David Shipula: Conroe, TX
Army Sergeant (E5) 52nd Engineers (Combat Heavy) attached to 101st Airborne Mosul, Iraq
I have always wanted to serve in the military. My dad was a chief in the Navy and being a sea cadet, I decided that is what I wanted to do. After graduating high school, I left for the Navy on July 11, 1990.
I was training to become a machinist and graduated at the top of my class. A year and a half later, I was promoted to E-5 Petty Officer, MR2, Machinery Repairman Second Class. By 1992, I was stationed aboard the USS LaSalle (AGF-3), which was positioned in the Persian Gulf. This ship was there because it supported Desert Storm/Desert Shield. It was a command ship. It coordinated all sea, air, and land support. I was a machinist and Damage Control Supervisor. I was also part of the crash and salvage crew.
The USS LaSalle was the first ship to Kuwait after the war started. We landed on shore and started to see the effects of the war. I don’t know what the bodies were in, whether it be a bunker or something else, but burnt bodies were just lying there. This is something I had never seen before, death and burnt bodies. The smell is something I have never forgotten. Not only did we see the effects of war on shore, but while stationed there, our ship was attacked by pirates. I know that sounds strange but it happened. They tried to take over our ship but were unsuccessful. I remember the large guns going off; the sound they made shook you from within. It’s hard to believe that at my first duty station, I experienced so much at such a young age. I never really thought about this in the sense that it might have some effect on my life. I only had control of what happened when I decided to join. After that, it was just a job. The decisions that were made were out of my control so I never felt any connection to them.
After my time on the USS LaSalle, I was transferred to the USS Holland (AS-32). This ship was stationed in Guam. I served three years on board in the nuclear repair department. In Guam, I met a girl and married her. This was my last duty station before I was honorably discharged in 1995. I returned to my hometown with my new wife. I became a heavy equipment mechanic in the Naval Reserves. I had the title of E-5 Construction Equipment Mechanic, CM2. During the next 3 years, I had a son, worked as a machinist part-time, and did my weekend drills. I was feeling a certain disconnect between my civilian life and my military one. I didn’t seem to be adjusting back into civilian life. I wanted to be on active duty again so I decided to join the Army.
In 1998, I joined the Army. While at Fort Lenard Wood, I completed basic training and advanced individual training. In the Army, my job was asphalt and concrete equipment operator. I would make and place concrete and asphalt. My first duty station was in Germany, Vilseck, and was part of the 94th Engineers at the Army base. At this time, my second son was on the way so my family had to stay in the States until he was born. I spent two years with them in Germany. Here, I deployed a second time to support another conflict. I spent 4 and a half months supporting the conflict in Kosovo. While there, my unit was paving an entrance to Camp Bondsteel. Some kids were running back and forth across the road playing with us. On this day, there had been a car that was driving down the road at a fast speed. He hit one of the kids. The guy’s car looked like he had hit a tree. I had never seen anything like that. The dead boy’s father showed up on an old tractor with a trailer to take his boy home to be buried. The military was taking a long time but eventually, the boy’s father was able to get his son and return home.
After Germany, I was able to return to the States. In 2000, I was stationed at Fort Carson, Colorado Springs, CO. I worked for the Battalion Maintenance Officer (BMO) and was the 52nd Engineers Battalion Master Driver. My job was to train soldiers to operate vehicles and all types of construction equipment. While at Fort Carson, my family continued to grow. We had a daughter on the way. I was excited about everything that was happening, but with all the good things bad things were waiting just around the corner.
In March 2003, my unit was deployed to Mosul, Iraq for 13 months. I was excited to go. My family went to Pennsylvania to spend some time with my parents. This deployment changed the course of the rest of my life.
In Iraq, I continued driver training and became the BMO’s driver. This meant I was responsible for the High Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicle (HMMWV) to the big trucks. However, I drove the HMMWV mostly. On most of these convoys, I was an escort vehicle.
Never in my life did I ever think I would be affected by the things I saw or experienced in the military. This is where it happened, the PTSD, my disability that the military doesn’t recognize because I am not violent.
I went on every convoy from March 2003 to about October 2004. Over 10,000 miles of convoys in an extremely hostile area, the vehicles were not armored and we didn’t have the new style of body armor yet. It seemed we were unprotected from what was happening at this time.
On this particular day, my captain told me “No more convoys until you get your paperwork done.” Five minutes later the battalion commander’s (BC) driver, Griff, asked me to drive an escort vehicle that day. I told him I couldn’t but if the BC wanted me to drive, I guess I would have to. I told Griff, “If you can’t find anyone else, I will drive.” He got someone else and I got started with my paperwork. I was not there but had I been, I don’t know what would have happened. Had I been driving this day maybe those involved would still be here today. Maybe something went wrong that wouldn’t have had I been there. I don’t know, maybe I would be gone. Either way, I had some control of this decision. I feel guilty for not being there. The HMMWV I was supposed to drive was hit by an IED. From what I was told, the driver had blood coming out of his eyes and the gunner was blown up. The HMMWV was brought back covered in green camouflage canvas. Had I been there, maybe I could have done something different. Life goes on in Iraq: living in tents, eating MREs, and burning shit. Life goes on. After this deployment, I returned to Fort Carson. This is when my family was no longer part of my life. My wife had left me and taken the kids. I went on leave in May 2004, to help my sister move her stuff from Las Vegas to Pennsylvania. She was in the Air Force and was going to be stationed in South Korea. I participated in my town’s Memorial Day parade. I was so full of energy. I had so much energy that for an entire week I worked on my vintage Covair, 24 hours a day. I had this burst of energy one more time when I returned to Fort Carson. The 52nd Engineers, my unit, deactivated. I was transferred to the 62nd Engineer at FT Hood, Texas, alone. The only family I had there was my older brother and his kids. In 2006, my unit deployed to Iraq. This would be my second year in Iraq and my 3rd in the Middle East. This time we flew into Baghdad. On the first deployment, we convoyed all of our equipment from Kuwait to Mosul it was 750 miles, a 4-day trip. This time equipment had armor, the bulldozers, HMMWV, everything. Our uniforms were different too. We had body armor as well. Everything was better this time, the food, water, and we even had showers. My second time in Iraq was almost over, two months to go. I volunteered to wash vehicles in Kuwait. I got to leave Iraq about a month early but would be deployed about a month longer. It was one week before I was to leave for Kuwait when I saw some old news footage from 2004 in Iraq. They showed the green camouflage canvas-covered HMMWV. I started to cry very slowly. I couldn’t stop crying and I couldn’t hide it either. The physician assistant (Doc) lived next to me and saw me crying one day. He sent me to mental health. The Lt Colonel there said I had PTSD. I went to Kuwait and then they sent me home to Fort Hood. I got out of Active Duty Army and joined the Texas National Guard hoping not to deploy as much. As time went on, the crying would come and go. I couldn’t talk about this for years. I went to the VA for help, but they couldn’t help. I had to be screwed up before they would help me. I think because I don’t drink, smoke, or do drugs it helps me control my feelings. I left the National Guard and joined the Army Reserves. I thought I would be treated better in the Guard but that wasn’t happening so I left. In the Reserves, I went in as platoon sergeant and then worked my way up to Warrant Officer. When I got there the slots were gone and I didn’t end up any better than I was in the Guard. Now I am an 88M truck driver, with the rank of E-6 Staff Sergeant. PTSD is not the disability I am getting paid for. I like to say I cured myself so the military doesn’t recognize it. I receive disability benefits from the Army because the muscles on my ribs were separated from the bone. I got this from Army Combatants Training—it’s basically wrestling. The person that I was having a bout with flipped me and caused this. When they reattached themselves they healed wrong. Whatever level of physical endurance I choose to keep my body at I have to maintain it. If I stop doing that I will be in extreme pain. I can’t take any medication for the pain, I just can’t stop being physical. For everything that has happened, time seems to help the most. It is a rare occasion that I cry about this anymore. It’s been almost two years. Telling this story now made me cry a little, but it will stop. I have served in the military for over 23 years and will be retiring soon. My children live with their mother in Washington State. I hope that someday they will be with me. They are grown up now and I missed all of that. I have since remarried and live in Conroe, Texas near my brother. It’s been 20 years but I am finally doing what I went to school for. I am working as a machinist full-time. Everything is good and getting better.
*Please note that these are the actual accounts of the event from the veteran’s viewpoint. These stories were written by them and I am only sharing them with the art that I created. To learn more about this project, read the Seeking Solace post.
Recognize the Symptoms
Here are some places to go to see if you or someone you know is struggling
https://www.mcleanhospital.org/essential/military-trauma