DEVIL MOUNTAIN CHRONICLES: Don’t Forget the Vet

I joined the army,
They dressed me up in green
They issued me a rifle,
And taught me to be mean.

Luckily, I never fired a shot in anger, but I lost friends in the rice patties of Nam. They had sacrificed everything in the name of duty. Now, 50 years after the fall of Saigon, veterans are still feeling the dire consequences of that terrible war.

I went into the service in 1969 when I was 18. At that time I thought the army could save me from myself – or get me killed. I was spared, but over 58,000 Army, Navy and Marine fighters came home in boxes. And all those heroes’ names reside on the hallowed Wall in Washington, DC.

Many of those vets who returned upright brought the war home with them. And if you add the veterans of all our foreign wars since WW2 who are still living, the numbers are staggering. Thank goodness that all service personnel – and in particular, combat veterans – have the help that the Veterans Affairs provide. The VA is a godsend!

Runnin’ through the jungle,
Merical point-man
Had a tour of duty
Down in Viet Nam

My late, close friend, Michael J. Martin, was a war hero. He had been a point-man in the infamous Americal Division in Nam. A recipient of the Silver Star, Michael seemed to be made of steel. When he finally got back to Dallas in 1969, he was an angry man full of piss and vinegar. But he soon found that he wasn’t invincible after all. He eventually ‒ with great apprehension ‒ entered the VA system and never looked back. He was classified 100% disabled.

For the rest of his life Michael J. Martin invigorated veterans all over the country with his lush and powerful music. Known as “The Voice of the Vietnam Vets,” Martin soothed the savage breast. That’s how I met him, and those times together in his band and in the studio were magical. Sadly, in December, 2015, Martin died at the Nashville VA Hospital surrounded by his dedicated VA team.

He will not be forgotten by me, or by his thousands of devoted fans.

My other cherished veteran friend, Bill Lockard, knew Martin before I did. Bill is a Marine veteran who was a door gunner in Nam. He flew over 300 missions earning 14 Air Medals. (Thank God he was only shot down once!) Bill got back to Dallas in 1971 and I got back from Panama not long after. The three of us have know each other since the early seventies – definitely a special “band of brothers.”

(I could tell some tales, but I better not… )

When Bill got home from his tour of duty he was in denial and angry, suffering from substance abuse. He quickly got help at the VA. “They saved me… and I believe that in my heart.” Bill has been using the VA since 1972 and says, “It’s always been there for me.” He was finally also classified 100% disabled.

The VA is arguably the country’s largest bureaucracy. And one must know how to properly navigate it. Bill says he always uses the 4 Ps: Pleasant, Patient, Polite, and Persistent. Good advice for all of us veterans. One vital component is Bill’s ‘Nurse Navigator’ who is at the ready, guiding him through the systemic maze known as the Department of Veterans Affairs. He can’t praise her enough.

Unfortunately, last year Bill was diagnosed with cancer. He, with the help of his beautiful wife, Jill, endured an arduous 10 months of treatments. They were amazed at the team that quickly assembled for him. The dozens of experts kept Bill in the loop and were with him every inch of the way. I am delighted to say that Bill has beaten his insidious adversary. A testament to the dedicated professionals at the VA.

I was a late comer to the VA. I sought their help not long after moving to Pagosa Country in the early ’90s. Back then the closest VA Clinic was located in distant Farmington, NM. I had a wonderful female doctor there who actually listened to me. (How refreshing.) She prescribed the proper medication for my bipolar disorder. Later the VA opened the first clinic in Durango, a little old house on North Main.

Since then, they have moved twice finally settling into their latest digs next door to the Durango Public Library. One catch: We are in the Albuquerque region. At a time not too long ago I had to travel to the gigantic Raymond G. Murphy VAMC in South East Albuquerque. Now-a-days I still get my meds sent from the big city, but the VA now allows patients further than 50 miles from the closest clinic to sign up for VA care at your hometown hospital. I couldn’t be happier!

I have my third female care provider, sanctioned by the VA, at Pagosa Springs Medical Center. I’ve had two colonoscopies, my gallbladder removed and a hip replacement in the comfort of my own town. I can’t tell you how thankful things have turned out.

Just yesterday I received a letter from the VA in Albuquerque informing me that they needed confirmation on an appointment at Rocky Mountain Physical Therapy. I called them and was put on hold. I waited for a half an hour without result. I knew from years of experience that sometimes you waited a bit longer than others. But at about one hour I was ready to hang up. To my surprise, someone finally answered the phone.

The young man on the line sounded a bit frazzled. Quite unusual, as all of the workers at the VA are always cheerful and professional. I explained the nature of my call and he became a little annoyed. And then I remembered something and asked, “Are you guys understaffed?” He replied sarcastically: “Have you been watching the news?” I apologized and asked how he was holding up. “Not well,” he replied.

I’d forgotten about the enormous 83,000 person VA hatchet job inflicted by the present administration. I never imagined that our elected officials would decimate our VA! Have they no shame?

Usually all the VA staffers thank us veterans for our service. So I reversed roles and thanked him for his service, that I greatly appreciate the outstanding job he does for us each and every day. I also told him I would write an article and contact my senator. He thanked me and said, “Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?” I simply told him to hang in there, that we are all on his side.

What else could I say?

I guess it’s part of human nature that we ignore somebody’s problem until those problems – or policies – affect us personally.

Please. Don’t forget the Vet!