Did We Forget to Bring Something Home?

Nostalgia isn’t a word we often apply to the experience of war, but that was the expectation my husband and I had when we chose to watch the Amazon Prime film HEROES made in 1977. After all, the leads included Henry Winkler (our favorite Fonz), Sally Field (looking particularly sweet) and Harrison Ford in his young carpenter’s body. We expected to see a young woman as a helpmate for a lonely Vietnam veteran—a bonding both sentimental and romantic. We’d almost forgotten what those days felt like at the time.

The introductory mood of the film is comical as Winkler escapes a V.A. psychological hospital to seek out his former comrades with the goal of creating a commercial worm farm together. His creativity and determination accept no obstacles as being insurmountable. On a bus traveling across country to California, he’s accidentally thrown into the company of Sally Field who’s secretly reconsidering her upcoming wedding. So far, strictly Hallmark material with slapstick added. But Winkler’s resoluteness verges on the manic—our first hint of a shade of coloring frequently lacking in popular modern fictitious war films. As a vet, Winkler’s not beloved and respected by those he meets, but singled out as a handy victim and unwanted crackpot—the kind often bulldozed out of homeless encampments these days as being inconvenient and dirty.

As the film progresses, Winkler grows less practical and more vulnerable to the terrors of PTSD. Ford, one of his former war buddies, loses his bravado and ambition when confronted with stress. Winkler himself is eventually reduced to a weeping hulk by realities he can’t forget. In fact, viewers are left wondering if he’s capable of sustaining a healthy personal relationship with a woman, whether or not it makes a tidy romantic ending. My husband and I once encountered a Vietnam vet who was severely compromised by his PTSD—so much so that he was officially designated as a danger to those close to him. His fiancée was warned that he could commence a lethal attack on bystanders he suddenly perceived as enemy at any time. In addition, I had a student veteran in class who didn’t dare close his eyes because of his perceived risk—even though he was surrounded by fellow students. The people who discount the needs of veterans who’ve endured the physical and emotional torture of combat have no clue what they’re belittling. They should watch BORN ON THE FOURTH OF JULY, a 1989 film starring Tom Cruise.

Citizens such as our present leaders who’ve never experienced combat can easily shrug. Our current president commented, “I like people who weren’t captured,” when he was discussing the debilitating tortures former Senator John McCain suffered as a POW. More recently, he and his cohorts have reiterated disregard for the selfless sacrifice of veterans with derogatory comments and cuts to programs designed to aid wounded soldiers. Little wonder that such clueless bystanders have no intention of trying to compensate sacrifices and emotional damage he and his representatives view from a distance, comprehend not at all, and respect less. As in the case of the innocent legal immigrant deported to a brutal Central American prison, he has no intention of stepping in to help unless law and public opinion insist. The actual suffering being ignored exceeds description. The impending elimination of 80,000 employees by the VA after the organization was scandalized by records being doctored to hide 120,000 veterans who were left waiting or never received care represents betrayal of a trust that every warrior should be able to return home to adequate long-term physical, emotional, and financial assistance. A generalized and increasing loss of compassion across a spectrum of humanitarian programs that were once the pride of the United States indicates a deterioration of moral civilization.