These are rough times we are going through. Many of us have lost
jobs; others have worsening job positions. Recently a relative
called with a harsh story of falsely being accused of
unprofessional activity which may affect his future. He was
demoralized.
These are rough times we are going through. Many of us have lost jobs; others have worsening job positions. Recently a relative called with a harsh story of falsely being accused of unprofessional activity which may affect his future. He was demoralized.
As I become 80 years old this year, I feel I have lived long enough to provide some wisdom. Life is full of set-backs; but each of us must overcome and achieve. Achievement is living life. Depression accomplishes nothing. So, hang in there and determine to do better.
Please take the following as life experience lessons, not braggadocio.
Some eight or 10 years ago, I called an acquaintance. In September 1951, he had been a platoon leader of our Marine Corps “D” Company, 2nd Battalion, 1st Marines, 1st Marine Division in Korea on Hill 749, where I was wounded by shrapnel. I asked this former platoon leader to help set up tables at the 1st Marine Division Association Reunion. He declined.
As the phone conversation ended, I had an epiphany, a revelation of the past. And, I began to cry. Can you believe, post-traumatic syndrome after 50 years! You see, this person had always been distant and never close. In fact, I never liked him during my Korean War experience.
Amazingly, I experienced immediate post-traumatic disorder from this singular phone call.
My epiphany, after the conversation, took me back to Korea, where I joined a machine-gun outfit on March 7, 1951. For the first few months, my buddies remained. Then they were wounded, killed or having served their allotted time, sent to the rear and replaced. I was one of the few left. Let’s face facts. There were almost as many casualties in the three-year Korean War as there were in the 10-year Vietnam War.
During this time when my buddies left the war by one means or another, I went to the field hospital as well as the hospital ship at Pusan to renew the skin on the bottom of my feet. During combat, I wore off several layers of skin by carrying two ammo cans, which weighed 20 pounds apiece, as well as a 30-pound pack. Unfortunately, I suffered from hyperhydrosis; too much water under the skin of my feet.
Three times I went to the hospital to grow skin back on my feet.
After my last hospital trip, there was no one left that I knew. No old buddies. No friends. I was an outcast. All the new replacements wondered, “Who is this guy.” I stood alone. Over the intervening years, I had forgotten the trauma. With the phone call, I remembered.
The “war-thought” flooded back.
After 50 years, I wept. I was never accepted by him nor the others. You see, I had outlasted all my short time buddies. And, no new guys understood. Yet, without friends, I had to undergo the mortar and artillery bombardment, emotionally alone.
Nevertheless, after 2 1/2 years into my three-year enlistment, I became a Staff Sergeant, an almost unbelievable achievement in the Marine Corps. In fact, I also was selected by a committee of officers to become a second lieutenant and attend Platoon Leaders School. Yet, I declined and took my discharge because, on the beach at Oceanside, I had met a girl to marry.
Subsequently, I went to college and achieved Bachelor’s and Master’s Degrees.
However, this strange “outcast” resentment from the past continued.
For years, I lived in Silicon Valley, and worked in the aerospace industry. How many times did I absolutely abhor my boss? I cannot remember. For 32 years I did not like what I did. Through good times and bad, I was not one of the group. I experienced being “outcast” all over again.
Being promoted to a supervisor and enjoying the interest of a friendly boss, I enjoyed life for awhile. Life turned when another boss was assigned the position and favored another supervisor. I transferred.
The next boss had martinis for lunch, daily. We dared not have meetings with him in the afternoon. On one occasion, I had prepared a letter to a subcontractor. I followed the company’s outline for a business letter. However, while meeting the boss after lunch, he crossed out three paragraphs and left one sentence untouched, then threw it at me. His sycophant, sitting in his office, said, “Burt, you really should do better.” The next morning, I submitted the same letter with no problem.
With a different job in the last few years before retirement, I made hour-long presentations to aerospace management and to the Navy. I verbally presented proposals to a crowd-filled room with the ubiquitous presentation boards. I was very good at what I did; but, I never enjoyed what I did.
After I retired from aerospace in 1992, I did what I had wanted to do since I was 20. I wrote a book, “WE CLAIM THE TITLE, Korean War Marines,” ISBN 0-9643110-1-1. See www.koreawarmarines.com
After several printings equaling 4,800 copies, I now am intent on selling the last 100. Additionally, having written 167 articles for newspapers and magazines over the last 11 years, I still try to achieve. These are my successes.
Nevertheless, that epiphany, that phone conversation with the lieutenant of long ago, revealed my deep feelings caused by war and brought to mind hurtful conditions of my past.
Obviously, this goes to prove that crying over the past does not solve anything. So, take the advice of an old man, an outcast. Get out there and achieve. And, hang in there. You may live to be 100.
Burton Anderson, Purple Heart Korean War Marine, B.A., M.A. degrees, junior college instructor, 32 years in aerospace industry, retired from contract negotiation in 1992. He can be reached at ba****@*ol.com.
