Watching televised news reports and human interest stories this past week on the 75th anniversary of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Dec. 7, 1941, immediately brought back memories of the many late nights my mother and I spent holding and listening to my father cry at the kitchen table.

My dad enlisted in the U.S. Navy at the age of 20, following the attack. He served aboard the USS Monitor, a landing ship vehicle-5, crossing the equator Oct. 11, 1944.

According to historical documentation, the USS Monitor joined the Third Fleet off Leyte, in the Philippines, in October, taking part in the landings at Leyte Gulf on Oct. 20.

The ship then transported the wounded to Morotai Island, Indonesia.

On Nov. 14, the ship returned to Leyte with reinforcements, then headed for Sansapor, in the former Dutch New Guinea, now West Papua, Indonesia, to reload troops and equipment to invade Luzon, in the Philippines.

Heading for Lingayen Gulf on northwestern Luzon, under constant air attack, the USS Monitor put ashore an attack force on Jan. 9, 1945, and then stood by in support, shooting down an enemy plane.

My dad “survived” the war, coming home, finding a job, getting married and successfully raising a family.

He never voluntarily spoke of his war experiences and, by outward appearances, the war had no untoward effect on his daily post-war life.

But even before I was old enough to remember the late nights supporting my dad emotionally, he would scream out from his sleep, with nightmares of seeing the kamikaze pilots dive-bomb his ship, killing his friends and fellow sailors.

Once, as the story goes, when my parents lived in a small apartment complex and I was just months old, my dad had one of his nightmares.

The neighbor lady awoke to his screams and came running over to my parents’ apartment thinking someone was being murdered in the night.

Another time, my youngest son, a toddler at the time, was taking an afternoon nap with his grandpa.

Suddenly, both my dad and my son starting screaming.

Grandpa, having a nightmare and back in the war, was choking his grandson.

This action against a loved one wore on my father’s mind heavily in the ensuing weeks.

For my dad, the war did not end Sept. 2, 1945, with the formal surrender of the Japanese.

The horrifying effects of the death and destruction continued in his mind, erupting only during his sleep, for the next five decades until his death in 1994.

During World War I, the lasting emotional effects of war were known as being shell-shocked. Later, the illness was called combat fatigue.

Now, men and women returning home from war with psychological scars are said to be suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.

Counseling and other help are readily available for veterans suffering from the disabling effects of PTSD.

Veterans should not repeatedly suffer the horrors of war for 50 years as my father did.

For anyone suffering from the ill effects of military service, help is available.

Veterans or their loved ones should contact the Wounded Warrior Project at woundedwarriorproject.org or the Allentown Veterans Affair Outpatient Clinic at 610-776-4304.

Deb Palmieri

editor

Parkland Press

Northwestern Press