My Watch Has Ended. Invisible Wounds of Modern Warfare.

Missile Warnings and Potholes. American casualties of the war in Ukraine. PTSD can turn daily life into a minefield.

// This is the first entry in the "War to Writing" series. 'W2W' chronicles noteworthy experiences of my Air Force career and retirement before beginning my Substack journey in November of 2024. //

When I began writing on Substack, I said:

I don't know exactly what this will be, but I will start by telling my story.

Well… I think I'm about as ready to tell this particular tale as I'll ever be, so here goes.

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Outline:
As far as I know, I was never shot at.
Missile Warnings
One Journey Ends, Another Begins
Wrap Up

As far as I know, I was never shot at.

Sure, I flew in “combat zones.” 13 of my 19 deployments were “combat” or “combat support.”

But I was never shot at.

On many occasions I sat at a small window for hours "keeping up foreign relations"¹ with aircraft who didn't like us much and enjoyed hanging out uncomfortably close to our wings.

I enjoyed ‘elephants dancing on our wings’ during unplanned “initial buffet”... then spent the next 9 months white-knuckling every take-off, landing, and airborne refueling around the planet. (In the debrief, the aircraft commander called our 3,000 feet of rapid, un-commanded descent, “a little nose tickle.”)

My recommendation once led to the shutdown of an operational squadron so they could do a test flight and confirm our landing gear did indeed require repair, as I repeatedly insisted. (My seat gave me a unique ability to feel what was happening with the gear)

The fear I experienced with that damaged landing gear unnaturally bouncing around for several flights, while my voiced and ignored concerns grew louder, rivaled anything else in my career life.

That experience also taught me an important lesson about trusting myself and speaking up to authority, even in the rigid military environment.

In my career there were plenty of times I experienced genuine fear, but none of them involved bullets or SAMs flying my direction... as far as I know.

I weathered those storms fairly well. My mental health (mostly) held, and I believe I may have survived my career still capable of re-integrating with society in fairly short order.

That changed with the war in Ukraine.

Sure, we basically avoided putting boots on the ground, but many of the mental rigors of combat do not reside solely on the kinetic battlefield.

I watched as Putin lined up his forces north of Kiev.

I was swimming in dire assessments of the impending conflict before the news ever mentioned it.

Like many of us, I sat in disbelief as the tanks crossed the border and began their invasion.

Also like many, I saw stories of The Ghost of Kiev and felt inspiration and hope as the brutal assault was somehow miraculously turned away.

As the conflict raged, battle lines shifted and daily briefings painted increasingly grim pictures, but most of that is not important to this article.

What is important: the missile warnings.

Missile Warnings

As the battle lines formed and carnage escalated, so did the tempo of the launch alerts.

The missile warnings were obnoxious. Loud. Annoying. ...but just noise, really. After a while, my biggest question was what part of the standard alert was worse: "Crater: Ukraine," "No mission impact," or "Maintain Current Posture."

At the time I thought all three of them were reassuring in some sense. At least they meant I wasn't being shot at or personally in any physical danger. It was just part of my job. The bombs were 2,000 miles away.

Looking back -- they're all bad - particularly with this simple "translation":

Crater Ukraine || No Mission Impact || Maintain Current Posture

Our friends, people and their culture, just got blown up || but they weren't 'us' || so just sit back and keep watching, closely.

Be unconcerned. Ignore the images of carnage blasted in to your ears and depicted by those little dots on your screen. Do your job: "Maintain current posture."

That doesn't exactly foster empathy.

I would submit the mandatory, obnoxiously high volume of the alerts, coupled with their sheer number and frequency, probably punched a lot of holes in my empathy tank.²

If you were to ask me why I write about empathy, I would probably say the war in Ukraine, specifically those missile alerts, is at least one major reason.

When I started writing, I did not expect “Empathy” to be a recurring theme.

My final shift was 11 months after the war started. The missile alerts always ebbed and flowed, but never fully stopped.

Once I was removed from that environment, I forgot about the missile alerts... for a while.

With all the chaos of retiring and moving my family across the planet to start a new life, I didn't even recognize those events as trauma, let alone see they were the straw that broke the camel's back.

At first, the missile alerts were quickly forgotten memories... like things locked in a box, safe and away from my real, current life.

... until they started jumping out in ways I never expected:

A pothole.
A doorbell.
A phone call.
A car starting.
A dog barking.
A lawn mower.
A social media alert.
A phone buzzing on "silent."
A spoon clattering in the sink.
A bird chirping to welcome spring.
A dryer starting a wrinkle-free spin.
A table being cleaned at a restaurant.
A cat reminding me diner was (supposed to be) an hour ago.
A timer I couldn't shut off that cost me a concert and a phone.³
A surprise light on my dashboard with a gentle tone that almost made me drive off the road.

Daily life became a minefield, with constant reminders of war.

But the “invisible wound” that got me the most?

A decade of near perfect dental health ... now suddenly a new daily challenge.

Quitting smoking and "doing everything right" for 10 years was supposed to make quality dental health a fight I could win. Nope.

Because of the war it became a new life-long struggle.

Watching that war build, start, and evolve - even far removed from the front lines - did more to me than I have yet to fully appreciate or understand.

Part of the reason I struggle with empathy is because it was forcefully beaten out of me... with my consent, slowly, for 23 years… then finally crushed daily over my final year of active duty.

The missile alerts are the best example, but the cumulative effect of so many deployments is also easy to under-value. I always did.

When we think about empathy, these types of things are insidiously draining. It's hard to be empathetic when you're frequently thrust back into your own head.

These PTSD triggers have done a lot to keep me in mine, but I’m starting to make some tangible progress in this fight.

If you or someone you know faces similar struggles, I hope my words provide some comfort or helpful perspective.

To my former colleagues still living this war every day: my heart goes out to you. /salute

May the odds be ever in your favor.

One Journey Ends, Another Begins

Our antiquated concept of wounded warriors in wheelchairs and missing limbs is incomplete. Invisible wounds are real, more prevalent than we think, and likely to increase as warfighters become more removed from kinetic action, yet still fully engaged in the fight.

When I joined Substack in November, I was not even close to ready to craft this article. Writing has improved my mental health tremendously, and I want to thank you, dear reader, for joining me along this journey. 8^)

We are just getting started.

As the phrase goes, writers should write from scars, not open wounds. Though these struggles are not going away any time soon, there are three big reasons I can write about them now:

• My watch has ended.⁴

• I have a decent grip on most of my triggers - the missile alert ones, at least.⁵

• I have accepted the fact my dental issue will be a lifelong challenge with no reasonable "fix.”

As I continue to learn, heal, and grow, I hope to have more “scars” healed enough to share with you… as odd as that looks on the screen… .. . you know what I mean. :)

Wrap-Up

There are a few ‘lessons learned’ and key takeaways regarding our veterans and the invisible wounds of modern warfare.

Lessons learned:

• "Triggers" or things that deeply upset us may not be obvious at first.

• Daily life can become a minefield.

• When we struggle with triggers (or really high stress of any form) we should leak-check our empathy tanks. ;^)

Regarding Vets:

• We have American casualties from the war in Ukraine.

• Invisible wounds are real, and will become even more prevalent. Greater awareness should follow.

• Take care of your buddies - not just on the battlefield, but at home.

If you are on active duty, my main piece of advice to you is this: if you haven't yet, give your mental health some thought. You know you won't wear the uniform forever, and not all of that ‘resiliency’ crap is total nonsense. :)

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Thank you for reading. I am honored you chose to spend time with my words.

I wish you a pleasant week and look forward to seeing you again next Saturday.

Take care,

- jofty 8^)

If you have questions, would like to share a personal thought or experience, please leave a comment below.

You can also reply to this email (if you are a subscriber) to reach me directly.

1. “Keeping up Foreign Relations”

2. I may write a missive discussing the concept of an "empathy tank," as I believe I've identified enough useful ideas around it to make a standalone discussion worth your time. Until then, the general idea is that empathy is a finite resource and when we try to pour it out and our tank is empty, empathy is not what actually comes out.

I touched on this a bit in my "Where do my Biases Come From" article describing how my attempts at empathy present as "blunt" and "judgmental" when my empathy tank is empty.

Those missile warnings drained my 'empathy tank' in a way I never anticipated and am just beginning to understand.

3. I wrote about “My Band Concert” here. While I couldn’t yet recognize or identify “missile alerts” as my key triggers at the time, looking back it is clear those types of things were at the top of my list to tackle.

4. Edd - We should burn the bodies.
Jon - You should.
Edd - What do you want me to do with this?
Jon - Wear it. Burn it. Whatever you want. You have Castle Black.
My watch has ended.

5. I am far from perfect handling the triggers thing. I am fully aware my triggers are my responsibility, and I am still working on ways to properly identify and combat them. I am doing a lot better than I was even a few short months ago when I first started writing.

If you share similar struggles, you may find helpful anecdotes in some of my previous articles, particularly:

A Note, Caution, and Warning for the Easily Distracted, Task Saturated, or Overwhelmed

or

Stoicism and Empathy - from a Recovering Military Mindset