Скачать книгу

the Armed Forces

      March 1945

      It is becoming increasingly apparent that AA is going to be called upon to perform a real job in aiding many veterans of this war during or, more particularly, some time after their reentry into civilian life. We believe, therefore, that the following piece, written for Grapevine by an AA who is himself in the process of undergoing this readjustment, following Army experiences that included participation in the invasion of Normandy, is extremely timely.

      -The Editors

      Becoming acclimated to a tailless shirt—assuming you can find any at all—is a small but symbolic problem that every veteran of the military forces encounters in making the transition to civilian ways of life.

      The tailless shirt is not the only reason for feeling shorn. The veteran also feels that a number of other things besides the tail of his shirt are missing. The Army—or the Navy, or whatever his branch of the service—is no longer taking care of him. The privileges and protection that the uniform provides, along with the responsibilities, have come to an end. Your assignment, whatever it may have been, has been finished. There’s no longer somebody on hand to tell you, whether you were officer, soldier or sailor, what to do next. You can’t even get cigarettes when you want them. You’re just another short-tailed civilian, mister!

      The dischargee not only misses the things he found enjoyable while wearing a uniform. Strangely, he also misses some of the things he disliked the most. He may yearn for the very things that used to draw his loudest and longest gripes. If he happens to be a veteran from a combat zone, he may even miss some of the gadgets and conditions that scared him silly while he was in the middle of them. When, for instance, in New York he hears the weekly Saturday noon air raid sirens and, after an involuntary tightening of nerves, he remembers that they’re only practice, he may wish momentarily (only momentarily) that they were the real thing. It’s not that he ever liked robots or enemy raiders; it’s that his nerves are still attuned to the excitement and tension that a combat zone produces in generous quantities as a daily and nightly fare. War in one phase or another has been reality to him. That has now been removed and what’s left seems, at times, unreal and even empty.

      Another void becomes apparent in topics of conversation in normal circles. What the veteran has been talking about morning, noon and night for however long he has been in uniform is scarcely suitable now. People just aren’t interested in what Sgt. Doakes said to Capt. Whoozit. And you certainly can’t blame them for that. Even when they are genuinely interested in hearing something of his experiences, the dischargee discovers that there’s a great deal he can’t express in a way that is understandable to someone who has not felt what he has. So he tends to avoid the subject—and he certainly does avoid it after one or two encounters with the occasional person who reacts to war anecdotes with a look in his eye that says, “What a line this guy’s got!” In such cases, the dischargee learns that what may be commonplace in theaters of war may sound fantastic and unbelievable elsewhere.

      All of these factors add up to an emotional disturbance involving lonesomeness, injured vanity, loss of poise and direction, fear of the future and resentments. For many persons, of course, relief at being permitted to return to normal pursuits offsets the other factors. But reconversion from the military to the civilian world calls for considerable readjustments for anyone. For an AA member, the readjustment may be especially difficult—and dangerous.

      Paradoxically, an AA who has had no or little trouble during his enforced separation from the group may be in greater danger during this period of readjustment than the one who has had an up and down fight all the way from enlistment or induction to discharge. If he has gone through military service without any slips or near-slips he has scored a real achievement. The military life imposes severe handicaps on an AA. It usually prevents him from practicing many of the steps on which he normally depends. It divorces him from group therapy, 12th Step work and inspirational talks. It precipitates him into circumstances that are upsetting and that tend to unbalance anyone’s sense of values.

      If the AA has survived all of that successfully, he’s likely to feel pretty strong when he returns to normal life. Certainly he feels that now, once again within his home orbit, among AA friends and within reach of all the help he could ask for, he is in much less danger, alcoholically, than he was in the service away from home. So he may very easily let down. He may drop his guard. He may become “too tired” to attend any meetings or do any 12th Step work. He may slack off in doing some of the little things that help to keep an AA growing along AA lines.

      If he begins to slide off in any of these ways, he’s heading for a tailspin and a tight inside loop. Whatever hazardous tendencies he may develop will be aggravated by the emotional disturbances which his military-to-civilian readjustment is bound to create for him even if he remains squarely on the beam. The fact is, he has need to double his guard and keep his defenses on the alert during this period.

      Those are facts which this AA had to learn the painful way. But in learning those, he also learned that application of the AA way of thinking will ease the transition for the veteran in many ways. Again I have seen how AA not only helps to overcome Personal Enemy No. 1, but how infinitely effective it is on many other human problems.

      Again too, I have been reminded forcefully that in AA one cannot stand still for long—he either goes backwards or he grows, and he grows only by using a gradually increasing amount of AA.

      T.D.Y.

      May 1948

      We hanker for Stateside voices, and Stateside letters is the plea to AA Grapevine from Guam. It is pretty lonesome out here, so some letters or recordings would be greatly appreciated by the group on the island. The islanders promise prompt reply to anyone caring to write. Letters may be sent to: M.K.K., c/o USED, Station 15, Guam, Guam.

      Guam

      June 1953

      Okinawa! To most people that is a word more or less unknown and to some, a reminder of war-torn days in the Far Pacific. But to 100 or so now happy men and women it brings but one quick thought: That’s where I found AA.

      These people are now reassigned to various other remote spots on the globe, in construction camps, war zones or military installations, and some are even in the good old U.S.A. To all of them the Pioneer Group on Okinawa sends greetings and best wishes for the continuation of the good work they started or carried on while here.

      A civil engineer from Florida, Woody W., got the group going here about six years ago and is still here, proving a solid inspiration for all of us in the group and giving unstintingly of his time and experiences in order to carry the message to any alcoholic who shows the least desire to do something about his own problem.

      Due to rotation of military personnel and short-term contracts for civilians there is a heavier-than-normal turnover in our membership, but the size of the group remains fairly constant as new members come in at about the same rate that members are rotated home.

      Grapevine has provided us with much food for thought; nearly every meeting includes subjects for discussion or quotes from one of the copies. We look forward to every issue with keen anticipation.

      As each member’s time draws near he begins checking up in the AA Directory to locate the group nearest to his home or new duty station. This is a good sign that he has found the AA way of life to be the solution to his problem and that he has hope in his heart for continued sobriety and peace of mind.

      If a member from Okinawa shows up in your home group, please give him an extra-warm handclasp for us and let him know that our thoughts and prayers are for him.

      Bob S.

      Okinawa

      (From: From the Grass Roots)

      May 1959

Скачать книгу