Bond during military life leaves veterans with a void

Camaraderie of military life leaves veterans with a void
'Ugh. I miss it.' Transitioning from war to isolation
The Washington Post
By Eli Saslow
Published: April 27, 2014

ROCK SPRINGS, Wyo. — The only light in the vast Wyoming darkness came from the lit end of another 5:30 a.m. cigarette as Derric Winters waited alone for sunrise on the porch of his trailer. He never slept well, not anymore, so he smoked and stared across the three miles of barren landscape that separated him from town. He checked his voice mail, but there were no messages. He logged on to Facebook, but no one was awake to chat. The only company now was the hum of the interstate behind his trailer, people on their way from one place to the next. He walked out to his truck and joined them.

His shirt read "ARMY," his hat read "10th Mountain Division," and his license plate read "Disabled Veteran." Five bullets rattled on his dashboard as he swerved around another car with his right fist pressed against the horn. "Come on," he said. "Go. Just go!" It had been five years since he returned from 16 months at war, and some days he still acted like he was back in Afghanistan. Many days, he wished that he were.

"The lonely process of overcoming combat" was what one doctor called it as he prescribed Winters the latest in a series of anti-anxiety medications. But what the doctor didn't seem to understand was that this was the place Winters was failing to overcome — the America where he felt discouraged and detached, and where his transition seemed like a permanent state. "What the hell am I supposed to do next?" he had asked his commanding officer when he was medically discharged from the Army, which had provided his income, his sense of purpose, his self-esteem and 15 of his closest friends in a platoon they called "The Brotherhood."

He had tried to replace the war by working construction, roughnecking in the oil fields and enrolling in community college. He had tried divorce and remarriage; alcohol and drugs; biker gangs and street racing; therapy appointments and trips to a shooting range for what he called "recoil therapy." He had tried driving two hours to the hospital in Laramie, proclaiming himself in need of help and checking himself in.
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