Logan M Isaac - God Is a Grunt: And More Good News for GIs

W HAT IS A GRUNT?

According to Major H. Gene Duncan, a grunt is that tired, filthy, thirsty, hungry, footsore, ripped-trouser, camouflage-painted, lean, mean, son a bitch who has kept the wolf away from the door for over two hundred years. Dictionaries are more concise, with Oxford defining it as a low-ranking or unskilled soldier or other worker and Merriam-Websters as simply unglamorous. Unlike the latter two, Duncan intended the term to be one of affection and endearment rather than derogatory.

Why do grunts need good news?

If the military suicide rate is any indication, grunts could stand to be reminded that there is reason to live, reason to smile, reason to carry on. As I write this, one soldier and seventeen veterans will take their lives each day, or one every eighty minutes. Stable, dependable, unchanging. Like how I get asked if I am thinking of killing myself every single time I interact with the VA. With suicide, stability is the problem, not a solution. If we make only minor adjustments to the way we think about military suicide, we celebrate the shit out of minor improvements and take for granted that shit sucks just because.

The United States uses the NATO phonetic alphabet, which assigns a phonetically unique word to each letter of the English alphabet. Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, et cetera. Grunts love their acronyms, and Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (or Fox for short) is WTF in mil-speak. Whiskey Tango Fox is that thing in your head right before you do a double take, an unspoken Am I crazy, or? Its more than just a saying; its a gut feeling that conveys surprise and confusion as well as disgust and offense. I feel it every time I go to the VA, every time I get asked if I am having thoughts of suicide. Id rather feel pissed off than feel numb; Id rather feel a lot of something than nothing at all. Its a shitty choice, but its one that veterans have to make every day.

We need to fundamentally change everything we know about military suicide. If anything, weve talked about it to death. Ive got a dark sense of humor, a coping mechanism I acquired during my time in service. Just to see what happens, Ive thought about answering in the affirmative when, during literally every interaction I have with the Department of Veterans Affairs, I get asked, Are you having thoughts of suicide? It feels like that color-changing DVD logo bouncing around on a blank television screen. You just want to see it hit the corner. Just once, I feel like I should say yes, just to see where that morbid Choose Your Own VA Adventure leads. (Mischief aside, if youre having suicidal thoughts, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-8255 and ask for help.)

When it comes to mental health, my motto is Illegitimi non carborundum (Dont let the bastards get you down). Its not proper Latin, but neither is de oppresso liber. Grunts dont have time for propriety. Often they dont have time for emotions either.

I have cried in public exactly two times. The first was on March 16, 2007, at the National Cathedral in Washington, DC. Celeste Zappala, a cofounder of Gold Star Families for Peace, was speaking about losing her son, Guardsman Sherwood Baker, in April 2004. I had been invited to read a short reflection written by Sergeant Joshua Casteel, a Christian soldier I would later meet and befriend over our interest in theology and Scripture. I learned of Joshuas death, from cancer exacerbated by burn pit exposure, while on tour for my first book. The moment I lost it, when my eyes became firehoses and my face contorted beyond my control, was the moment Celeste said, A young vet wraps a garden hose around his neck and leaps away from the nightmares that beset him.