Page 437 - Total War on PTSD

I come from a long line of military men. There’s been a “Bradford” in every war since America started fighting in wars. I always felt like it was my duty to step up when this war started. My story isn’t much different from other soldiers in this war...but this is my story.
I grew up in Murphy, a small town in the mountains of North Carolina. In Murphy, guys love three things: women, beer, and guns. A good day is when all three are together. Now that’s a good time.
So there I was, five years old, hanging out at my Memaw’s house, when life would forever change. The phone rang and I answered. On the other end of the line was my neighbor telling me to go get my mom. Instantly, I knew something was wrong. My dad had taken his own life. As I began to cry and tried to grasp the reality of the moment, my uncle walked up to me and said, “Don’t cry, you have to be the man of the house now.”
As life went on, I got into the normal thing’s boys get into... in my case, mostly trouble. But my friends and I had a good time. As high school wrapped up, I decided it was time to enlist in the Army. I broke the family tradition of becoming an officer because I wanted to be “that” guy...the boots on the ground guy that hunted down the enemy.
While in the Army, I served in the 101st Airborne Division, 3rd Brigade, 3rd BLT, Iron Rakkasans. To any of you who don’t know what that means, Iron Rakkasans are the most highly decorated battalion in the 101st Airborne.
My first day in the Iron Rakkasans, I was told that everyone in the Army is a dinosaur and that we were the meat-eating dinosaurs. We hunt our enemies down and kill them.
437 of 1042