What happened when an invisible wall stopped me

We thirsted for fresh cold water, but none was available.

I remember dreaming of a hamburger with all the trimmings on a toasted bun. Then I had pangs for an all-beef hotdog dipped in mustard and topped with sauerkraut accompanied by waffle fries slathered in ketchup. Finally, a moment came I would have gladly traded my soul for a slice of plain New York pizza dripping with cheese.

We often talked of our moms’ cooking and those special treats they prepared. And yet, we ate from cans, drank iodized water from swamps and river inlets, and lived in mud and slime for weeks, if not months.

It was all a hopeless dream until we returned.

But I was too ill to eat anything of which I dreamt. And when I finally visited the pizzeria and went to Nathan’s on Coney Island, my favorite hamburger place, everything tasted like sand, and what I swallowed, I vomited. Still, I consoled myself by returning home when more than 58,000 of my brothers did not.

I understood it was my life to lead and that PTSD was just another obstacle. I was wrong.

Yet, the universe sent me an angel to love and guide me, and she made all the difference. It came to some of us but not to all.

Read the first chapter of Vietnam Uncensored at vietnamjerry.com and receive insights and book launch updates.