TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/032591/0325105.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 5.8 KB | 122 lines

                                                                                NATION, Page 21

After the Euphoria, a Letdown


For troops returning from the gulf -- and for their loved ones
-- battles loom in resuming normal family life

By JILL SMOLOWE -- Reported by Ann Blackman/Washington and Don
Winbush/Atlanta


    For the moment, there is giddy elation, as returning Desert
Storm troops touch down on American soil to a triumphal welcome
of balloons and bands, spouses and children. "As far as I'm
concerned, he is a hero," says Bonnie Cutts, 22, of her husband
David, also 22, a naval engine mechanic who is expected to
return to Charleston, S.C., in the next few weeks. "He'll be
a hero for the rest of his life."

    But when the hoopla subsides, many families will be left to
cope with a host of problems that may catch them by surprise.
"Reunion is much more stressful than departure," cautions Meg
Falk, deputy director of the Navy's family-support program.
Typically, the returning troops will career from euphoria to
a baffled recognition that time has not stood still in their
absence: children have grown, spouses have become more
independent. It's difficult to adjust. "We encourage them to
be an honored guest in the home for a while rather than come
charging in to take over," says Marine Chaplain J.S. Kirstein,
who oversees a homecoming-counseling program at the Marine
Corps Air Station in Cherry Point, N.C.

    Moreover, old, prewar problems have not disappeared. "When
the glow wears off, there will be exaggerations of previous
difficulties," warns Dr. Paul Fink, medical director of the
Philadelphia Psychiatric Center. "If the marriage was not too
good before, the return could precipitate the disruption of the
marriage." And even a solid marriage may need to be handled
with care. "Re-establishing sexual intimacy can be like going
through courtship again," says Falk.

    Many troops will experience postwar blues. They will feel
a need to repeatedly tell their war stories, describing the
hardships they endured. Some will be tempted to go on spending
-- and drinking -- binges. Military and civilian family experts
caution that returning warriors may feel dissatisfied with home
life. Many will be inattentive to or dismissive of family
problems. "People who have been on the battlefront have very
nearly faced death," says Falk. "Things that may be important
to the family may seem trivial to them."

    Many of those who were involved in ground combat or aerial
raids will reel from the shock of having killed people. Such
a reaction typically takes about six months to set in. But,
advises John Stein, deputy director of the Washington-based
National Organization for Victim Assistance, "for some, the
dichotomy between horrific memories and the sense of triumph
will strike them as being psychologically intolerable right
from the get-go."

    Trauma experts anticipate relatively few cases of
post-traumatic stress disorder, a condition that afflicted many
Vietnam veterans. "This war was quick, efficient, brilliant,
and every soldier can take credit for that," says Fink. "I
believe that will diminish the number of psychiatric
casualties." Still, families should be on the lookout for such
symptoms as depression, difficulty in concentrating and
distressing dreams.

    Spouses also face adjustments. During the war, husbands and
wives assumed new housekeeping and child-rearing
responsibilities, from monitoring the checkbook to tucking the
children in at night. They will expect appreciation and may be
reluctant to relinquish their new power. Says Kathleen Weihl,
27, whose husband Gary will soon return to Georgia's Fort
Stewart: "The guys are going to see that wives can get along
without them, and it's going to be a rude awakening for some
of them." Weihl, who endured a 14-month separation in the late
'80s when Gary was sent to South Korea, also knows the pitfalls
of overidolizing the absent loved one: "He may have sounded
like Cary Grant in his letters," she says, "but back home he
can still be a slob." Charles Figley, a family therapist in
Tallahassee, warns that spouses may compete for sympathy, a
phenomenon he calls I-had-it-worse-itis.

    The greatest tensions may surround the children. While the
troops were away, babies learned to walk, teenagers got their
driver's licenses, and children may have developed habits that
are distressing to the returning parent. The Navy, which flies
teams of mental-health workers to ships coming back from the
gulf, counsels patience and tolerance. "We tell them that if
their teenager shows up on the dock with long hair and a ring
in one ear, that isn't the time to say, `Hey, what happened to
you,'" notes Falk. Many children will have formed deeper bonds
with the parent who remained at home and become accustomed, for
instance, to the way Dad reads the bedtime story. Sleeping
arrangements may have changed: Lana Gorley's two daughters, 10
and 13, got in the habit of sharing their mom's bed while their
father, Second Lieut. Craig Gorley, was away.

    Not all youngsters will rush to greet the returning parent
with open arms. Children under age five often hold back or cry.
Teenagers are "unpredictable as ever," says Fink. Experts
advise that children be warned in advance that Mom or Dad may
act and even look a little different. Rereading letters from
the front can also help them prepare for the reunion.

    Over time, most families adjust. After putting her husband
"on a pedestal," Laura Root of Sterling, Ill., is looking
forward to the shock of gritty reality: "I can't wait to have
a fight and get back to normal." Military support services have
moved into high gear to alert families to the dangers lurking
ahead. Says the Navy's Falk: "We want them to understand that
all this is normal."