“No Fortunate Son” by Creedence Clearwater Revival (47th Post)

(Dear Reader, please keep in mind the events in this Post had taken place between 1969-1970. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) had not yet been discovered as a horrific and severe consequence of military combat. Therefore, the PTSD symptoms I witnessed were still a hidden phenomenon.)

Looking at Rob’s photo of a sunset over the Vietnam jungle Brough back memories of the loss of my high school friend Gabriel. (See the previous post.) My experience of the loss brought home the intimacy of war into my life. I had been a junior in high school when I met Gabriel. He had been a senior. After Gabriel graduated from high school he was drafted into the military. After completing boot camp he was sent to serve in the Vietnam War. His combat experience lasted only 45 minutes. He had just arrived “in-country” - as it was called back in the day. He had been riding in a helicopter. The helicopter attempted to land in a hot L-Z zone (a landing zone.) - otherwise known as an area active with enemy fire. Before the helicopter landed it was shot down by the enemy fire. The impact exploded the helicopter and turned it into a fireball. Consequently, there was no Gabriel to send home to be buried. My high school friends and I were devastated. We never had the opportunity to see him again or to say a final goodbye. His parents were so distraught they did not hold a memorial. For me, the war in Vietnam was no longer just an event overseas. The war had taken Gabriel’s life, invaded my life, and invaded my friends' lives. Now this was personal.

Meeting Rob had been my first experience with a Vietnam Veteran. It had turned out to be quite the experience . . .

Beginning in 1969, the US sent combat soldiers to fight the ongoing war in Vietnam. By 1969, my senior year in high school, many soldiers had been killed in the fight, and others seriously physically wounded. The number of deaths was climbing on a daily basis. Consequently, across the country, the military draft and the military occupation of Vietnam had become unpopular. Anti-war protests were taking place across the US, especially on college campuses. In conjunction with the anti-war protests, many Rock and Folk musicians had written anti-war songs. To name a few: “For What It’s Worth” by Buffalo Springfield, “War” by Edwin Starr, “Leaving on a Jet Plane” by Peter, Paul, and Mary, “The Fish Chant” by Country Joe and the Fish, and “Fortunate Son” by Creedence Clearwater Revival. 

“Fortunate Son” refers to the sons of parents who had connections. That privilege resulted in those sons not being drafted, or drafted, however, not sent to serve in the Vietnam War. The song is a lament by a combat soldier in Vietnam saying “It ain’t me, It ain’t me, I ain’t no fortunate son, no no no.” Whenever I hear that song I would think of Gabriel and Rob. Both were “No Fortunate Sons.” With Gabriel, I had been touched by the loss of life from combat. With Rob, I had been touched by the loss of a soldier’s heart and spirit from combat. Each resulted in the same things - grief, sadness, and anger. Both experiences changed my world. 

Today, in 2023, I know Rob had shut down his emotions in order to block the pain of PTSD from combat. In 1969, Rob did not know that closing off the war pain also trapped inside himself all the emotions necessary to create a happy life. Over the college semester, Debbie and Matthew had grown concerned by Rob’s slow, but sure, withdrawal from the emotional intimacy they offered him. Matthew also became angry with Rob’s mood swings and other personality changes for the worse. We all noticed Rob appeared sullen. At times, Rob had been incommunicative and had seemed lost in secret thoughts which had been hidden behind his vacant eyes. Rob drifted away from the three of us. I felt sorry for Debbie and Matthew. They had appeared to be suffering from his aloofness. They had also been frustrated and angry at Rob. Both had been burdened by concern and heartbreak. I felt helpless to help Debbie, Matthew, or Rob. The friendship bridges the three of us had built with Rob was crumbling and falling into an abyss none of us knew how to climb out of. 

New undiagnosed PTSD symptoms continued to manifest in Rob. He began to engage in reckless behaviors. At those moments I sensed something inside him had become untethered. At other times, the Rob I had to know surfaced, and, he acted with softness and kindness. I felt so sorry for him, as I knew what it was like to be untethered and stumble around in darkness with no beacon of light. 

One day, Rob announced he was considering joining a fraternity on campus. Debbie and I had thought this decision might somehow help him. However, days later Rob shared which fraternity he had chosen to pledge - and we were incredulous. The guys in that frat house were rude and crude. The frat house did not have a good reputation on campus. The majority of women students knew to stay clear of the frat house. Before Debbie and I had recovered from finding out his selection, Rob had informed us he intended to move into and live at the frat house. Matthew was furious, offended, and very hurt about Rob’s latest decision. We three had attempted to dissuade Rob from living at the frat house. Instead of responding, he blew us off. Rob made good on the pledge and moved into the frat house. 

All this time, distance, not love, had been growing between Debbie and Rob. Eventually, Rob let go of Debbie. I concluded the worst casualty of the war was relationships. I felt Debbie and Rob’s fairy tale had the worst ending….EVER.