Listen to Me, You Who Made It Home. Your Mission Is Not Over.
I didn’t survive home, will you allow another to fall?
Video credit: Wounded Warrior Homes
I’m reaching out to you from the silence. I’m one of the ones who made it home from the fight, only to fall to the enemy that followed me back. I’m a veteran who died by suicide. I was lost to the darkness that everyone pretended wasn’t there.
I am crying out in tribute to the fallen—for I am one of them now.
When I was alive, I was caught in that terrifying duality: celebrated as a hero, yet feeling like a disgrace as the guilt of survival was winning. I learned to survive explosions and gunfire, but what about the quiet room where the silence is deafening? Was I justified? Why did I make it back but not them? I wanted to live, but I couldn’t find the strength, nor the voice to ask for help, and no one saw me sink.
I’m calling you out, not from a post, but from a hole in the ground. Don’t let them forget you like they forgot me. This is a veteran’s plea from the grave.
This is a call to battle.
This is a veteran’s plea for EVAC.
I. The Cycle of Sacrifice: A Debt I Can’t Repay
They talk about sacrifice like it’s a clean exchange. But when you watch a brother or sister fall, you carry a debt you can never repay. You were trained to die for them, and when they go first, you feel like you failed the mission. That guilt, that unbearable weight—it’s the start of the spiral.
The soldier’s life is a constant cycle of preparation, deployment, and sacrifice. We honor those who were taken from us in the line of duty. They are etched in stone and memory. We will always remember their valor.
But You know the other debt, though you may not want to see it. You know the crushing weight of the life you were given when your brothers and sisters were taken. But the cost is paid by more than just the soldier. It’s paid by the family left behind, the children who see that empty chair and choose to take up the mission themselves. The cycle never truly ends.
II. The Wrong Side of Heaven: Alone and Unseen
I was still in my uniform when the world started to change color. Everything turning gray and cold. The sound of the traffic was a dull roar I couldn’t quite hear. I stood there, asking, Am I a good man? Did I do right? Was I justified? The heavy cloth of the jacket felt like lead, and the cold seeped into my bones, a cold that had nothing to do with the weather. It was the cold of absolute, singular despair. And the world just passed me by, a blur of faces and bright colors I could no longer process. I stood there, broken, on the wrong side of heaven, and they only saw a beggar. They saw the symbol, but not the sacrifice. They saw the shell, but missed the storm raging inside. After all, we are supposed to be the strong ones, the immovable object. So when we finally shatter, no one knows how to look down and see the pieces. We are supposed to be the strong ones, weren’t we?
III. Friendly Fire: My own worst enemy
I called too late.
I fell alone in the dark. Don’t let another.
To those on the edge, fighting the battles unseen:
Stop the telling the lies that kill. Stop saying “I’m fine.” Stop saying “I got this.” Stop saying “I’m okay.” That silence is lethal. Use your military training: call for reinforcements. We are the American Legion, and we are already on your frequency. We are ready to answer the call.
Your pain does not disqualify you from this formation. You are not alone. Reaching out is the ultimate sign of strength, not weakness. Right now, a Buddy Check is the most vital mission you can undertake.
Stop saying “I’m fine.”
Stop saying “I got this.”
Stop saying “I’m okay.”
IV. Your New Mission:
Signed: The Veteran Who Needed You to See
If you are struggling, please use the training you were given and ask for EVAC. We are ready to answer the call.
| Veterans Crisis Line | DIAL 988, THEN PRESS 1 |
| Text | 838255 |
| Chat | Veterans Crisis Line Chat |
| Post 86 Chaplain | |
| Call | 936-205-2230 Ext. 9 |
| chaplain@naclegion86.com |