On 2 Mar 2017 08:31, "Gareth Rutherford" <rutherfordgareth@gmail.com> wrote:Hi Axel
Survivor Guilt...
I have for so many years cowered under the cloak of survivor guilt after being awarded a medal for bravery when i was undergoing my national service.
Guilt for having lived, when so many around me died..
Guilt for not having done enough..
Guilt for having basked in pride and honour as my brave compatriots lay dead and buried.
Guilt for having been the only one recieving the award when others unseen were worthy too.
Guilt for recieving continuous accolades every year after year.
Guilt for getting on with normal life as if nothing had happened.
But... this had to change..
because in hindsight, I have read the detailed accounts by many others who were there .. And I have written it all down comprehensively....in minute detail.
Together with reputable sources and respected historians.
Psychiatrists... military professionals.. and fellow medal recipients.. I have overcome the long afflicting debilitating guilts.
I would never boast, as it was never in my character...nor would I have any delusions of grandeur in my accounts of these actions..But its time to stand up and man up to life and its lessons.
Its gifts and its demands..Its fears and its blessings alike.
No picking and choosing..
To take graciously and to give generously...when its your due..Here below, is my absolution from that guilt.
.Your interest here ... thusfar .. is a great blessing to me.. and then too..If you would read a little further to the end of this page.
I was in awe of the official citation handed to me when i was awarded the medal for gallantry on the battlefield.. honorus crux. 1980.
As it happens...I did ok..I was seen doing the right stuff by many on the most savage battle zone...And most notably.. by the highest ranking officer on the operation that day.
I kept my head.. under fire.. I did not run away.. I challenged the savage enemy alone through their base with only my rifle and my wits.
I ran to the aid of dead and dying while under intense enemy fire and performed medical procedures to the book.. and it was right, and I was the only one doing that.
Initially all of our shocked responses caused further delays and confusion..This was not "supposed" to have happened and was not in any of our training manuals.
The burnt flesh..blood and shattered bone was real.
My medical training was good, but still never prepared me for the extreme dismemberment of my closest friends.Later others assisted me as I got the situation under a semblance of control.... and I never forgot them or what they did.
It was a great relief to have some help and not to be all alone.. with the dead and dying..I tore open shredded uniforms and severed hanging strands of skin and flesh.I cut off a leg below the knee and picked up a foot still inside a boot.
It belonged to my running partner.. Michael..I bandaged and tourniqued and vomited.. I applied heart massage and the kiss of life as my face was covered in chunks of gore coming out of my desperate and dying patients.. my close friends.
I inserted drips and injected morphine on the worst.. and ..I held their bloodless dying hands and boosted their morale.. alone.. and it was seen by all those terrified by the sight of so much blood and gore.
And it was right that someone noticed..this was not my nomination.
So.. I never got shot.. sniper bullets hit the body of the vehicle above my head as I worked.I should have been dead many times over.. as the others sat safe inside the machines and tucked low behind cover..as I ran around exposed, outside tending the wounded.
Was it By luck or chance or a guardian angel.? . I dont know how or why.? . but I survived those days.
They gave me a medal for that I think..?... whew.!!.A huge parade in Bloemfontein..centre city..They cut the bus stops out off the town square and layed out red carpets everywhere ..19 of us were honoured that day..spanning eight years of operations.My mom and dad were flown in by Defence hq.Pik . PW.. Magnus... and Constand Viljoen.. I met all the big wigs.. it was so scary for this little lancejack onderkorporaaltjie. It was a huge parade and I was anxious..I never smiled because I knew that the families of the dead and all my compatriots were watching..so naturally... I was pensive and sad.
And I felt then... so out of place... so undeserving.. a fraud.?
Yes of course I was proud of the great honour and recognition..but it was completely shrouded in sadness and confusion...and sealed by trauma that few would really know.
I was reserved..in respect for those that died under my hands... and My myriad of inadequacies.?
Today I look back and read the stories of all the others.. their accounts of great valour and achievement.. and I am so proud to have been there with those others.
Because of their actions.. their competent battle events.. I lived that day. It was such a huge team effort and I would have been dead if not for those other ratel platoons.. their fearless gunners and tenacious teams on the ground.
My personal actions were not only combative hand to hand, facing the enemy.. but included comprehensive medical procedures under fire ..and boosting of morale under the pall of death.
As it turns out today.. it is clear ..a good few of my comrades ran away in terror from the immediate contact zone. Some coming to further grief.. but thats another story that has no place at this stage.
So.. I look back today .. differently..my citation is well substantiated..I see now what others did so bravely.. so selflessly.. and what I did..And it was all right..Today I no longer cower in sadness and regret..and guilt... but I am proud ... that I did well ...what I was trained to do... compliments to my trainers...and when the chips were down ... I was on top form.!. coherent and efficient.
And someone saw me doing that.
So 1981..I was awarded a medal for gallantry ..along with a group of very brave soldiers from all over the country..who were on other daring operations..and who, in some way or other..had saved lives at great risk to their own.
.And I was one of them.
Im still here... thats what happened.And I have no guilt anymore.
Axel Wrote..
You already know what l think. I have seen other citations for gallantry in other wars. I know what you did, who you saw, how you felt. You should not have any guilt, because you survived. I do not worship what you did. I understand it. That is me. I have studied conflicts and heroic actions all my life. I see yours in a different light because l knew some of those you tried to save. They are with me still. Now, always. They died for this disgraceful country and its disreputable governments. And gave their lives for what we have now? For whom? For what? They are still finding soldiers remains in France, ploughed up for the winter. They are still identifying people who were shot to pieces 100 years ago. Brave men tragically killed for king and country for kaizer und der Vaterland an d all that. Our enemy us not the other, but inside ourselves, our ability to summon up hate when we should have learned to love. The curse of being a human being, holding the asses jaw for a sword when we should turn our hand to the plough and sow wheat for the next harvest.There it is.You will always be revered for what you did so selflessly, but will never be so arrogant to claim respect as your right.Here endeth the lessonAs always.APB.
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