I’m not really out of the WikiLeaks doc-dive yet, but I just got a chance to see this heartbreaking post at Tom Ricks’ blog about PTSD. Read every word.

We soldiers have been conditioned to never, ever admit we are hurt or suffering. But dealing with the aftermath of war, when you are no longer surrounded by the men who fought with you, when you are no longer working for a chain of command that can give you feedback from a position of authority, when you are alone — is a battle that far too many of us lose. When some of the bravest guys that I know can’t admit weakness, or do admit weakness, and then are subject to ridicule, then I posit that the narrative for the “after,” for the persistent battle that we veterans fight for the rest of our lives, should be distinct and separate from the Army’s normative weakness — ridicule relationship that is appropriate for combat.

There’s nothing weak about needing help. We all need help in our lives. Indeed, there’s something especially brave about admitting you could use some help when there’s a small-minded social stigma attached to seeking it.

I told Jonathan that he was brave when it counted. I said that when the chips were down, he faced the bullets and he moved forward, often at the head of the platoon. I let him know that I thought it was far more manly and heroic to admit weakness back here at home because it defies everything we have been taught in our culture that celebrates strength and filters out weakness lest it corrupt the unit.

After a long pause, he said, “Thank you so much for talking to me sir. I already feel a lot better.” He shouldn’t have to thank me, the nation should thank him. He should feel the respect and gratitude of the country every day by the way he is treated, not just in the popular culture that celebrates America’s service members, which all of us who have served appreciate.

Yes he should, as should all of our nation’s veterans, in ways both emotional and financial, subtle and obvious.