Reflecting on times gone by, I recall my Grandfather. He was a very quiet man who could "turn his hand" to just about anything. He came from that era of making do with whatever was at hand. For instance, I remember a wardrobe in his bedroom which he had built by hand from scrap timber. It was exquisite. He had many other skills too, such as shoe or boot repairing. Servicing clocks and watches was also one of his gifts.
All this from a man who, at the age of 19 was thrust into a war so frighteningly horrific, that it now seems like a black nightmare in our history books. In 1916-17 he was a member of the 2nd Battalion, East Lancashire Regiment, who were in the thick of the fighting in Belgium. Most of his Battalion did not survive the war, and those who did were scarred for life. Some bore psychological scars, some carried horrendous physical scars. My Grandfather had both.
On a cold morning in 1917, outside a Belgian village named Passchendaele, he, along with six of his mates, was blown to pieces by an exploding shell which ripped their trench asunder. He regained consciousness for a little while at least, finding himself under the remnants of his little group. Body parts and blood were everywhere. He recanted to me that his fear peaked when he thought he had lost his sight. He hadn't. His eye sockets were full of the congealed blood of his dead comrades. I cannot even imagine just how this young man felt at that moment. He himself was grimly wounded. Shrapnel protruded from neck, back and buttocks, some buried itself deeper. His boots had been blown clean off, taking with them portions of his right foot. His right knee was a pulp, the kneecap totally gone. He lay there bleeding and buried in this muddy nightmare of carnage for most of the day, until stretcher bearers came and carried him to a medical post.
This then was just the beginning of his terror. Forever after he was to suffer quietly what we now know as PTSD, or post traumatic stress disorder. I imagine that he relived that time of terror every single day of his life until he died quietly, with no fuss, in 1967.
PTSD is something which is better understood nowadays. Most people have heard of it, but what is it in reality? Here are a list of the symptoms:
- Frequently having upsetting thoughts or memories about a traumatic event.
- Having recurrent nightmares.
- Acting or feeling as though the traumatic event were happening again, sometimes called a "flashback."
- Having strong feelings of distress when reminded of the traumatic event.
- Being physically responsive, such as experiencing a surge in your heart rate or sweating, to reminders of the traumatic event.
- Making an effort to avoid places or people that remind you of the traumatic event.
- Having a difficult time remembering important parts of the traumatic event.
- A loss of interest in important, once positive, activities.
- Feeling distant from others.
- Experiencing difficulties expressing positive feelings such as happiness or love.
- Feeling as though your life may be cut short.
- Having a difficult time falling or staying asleep.
- Feeling more irritable or having outbursts of anger.
- Having difficulty concentrating.
- Feeling constantly "on guard" or like danger is lurking around every corner.
- Being "jumpy" or easily startled.
If you, or someone that you know can relate to all, or a group of the symptoms listed above, seek help. Feel free to contact me for an appraisal if you so wish.
