Broken

I used to teach paramedic school. In 2006, two of the students in my class were best friends. They had joined the Army together in 2001 under the “buddy” plan, they went through Army Corpsman training together, and were sent to Iraq together.
While they were there, they saw some pretty horrendous fighting. One of the young men, we will call him Steve, was awarded the Silver Star for running to another soldier’s aid during a fairly intense firefight, and shielding that injured young man with his own body. The other buddy, Sam, never came back whole. Sam had severe problems adjusting to the things that he saw over there.
They were discharged in 2005, and enrolled in Paramedic school. Sam had his demons, and was able to keep them in check with the help of his buddy Steve. They were roommates, and Steve was the steadying influence that Sam needed. Even though Steve got married in 2009, Sam remained their roommate, and was able to cope.
All of that came to an end in 2012, when Steve’s wife became pregnant. They asked Sam to move out, so they could have room for the baby. Six months later, Sam killed himself.
That is a common story. We are sending our young men off to war, and then we are punishing them when they come home broken. They can’t call for help, because they will be persecuted if they do, and still will not get the help they need.
Shame on all of us.