Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome is Not a Virus

Poem by Jeral Williams

Older men declare war. But it is the youth that must fight and die.

— Herbert Hoover

Age 18: enlistment
too young to buy cigarettes, too young to buy booze
old enough to be taught to kill
reveille, up early, tuck your corners,
march, jog, crawl, climb, sit-ups, push-ups, pull-ups, lift, throw
fly the drone, align the target, press the button
ready, aim, fire–guns, mortars, artillery, missiles, rockets, bombs
Yes, Sir Lieutenant! Hoorah!

Age 19: tour of Duty
too young to buy cigarettes, too young to buy booze
old enough to kill or be killed
targets shooting back
bombs, mortars, artillery, missiles, rockets exploding
IEDs, booby traps. suicide bombers
close calls, noises, smells, lost limbs, lost friends
etching images— engraving memories— imprinting emotions

Age 20: honorable discharge
too young to buy cigarettes, too young to buy booze
old enough to remember
sights, sounds, carnage, collateral damage
eyes, stench, children, cries, weeping,
images, memories, emotions
invade the day, stir the night
cannot un-taught, un-see, un-hear, un-feel what was real

Jeral Williams is a retired professor of psychology and fourth-quarter poet. His first book of poems, Sunset Without Dawn (Negative Capability Press, 2022), was inspired by the tragic death of a daughter. A cancer and stroke survivor, he enjoys writing each day despite the travails of a one-handed typist.