As a
medic, rogue assignments were becoming more common in the later part of the
Vietnam War, compared to the earlier activities by the American forces assigned
there from the end of the Indo-China War and the beginning of this conflict.
Being rogue was diverse from being a unit medic.
The role
differed extremely in many areas and was designed to keep you mobile and
unattached to anyone or anything you were attached to during the time of duty.
To some it was extreme and for others it offered them a false or pseudo
personality to hide behind a mask sort of speak.
Wearing a
mask, a term used as a metaphor for a different face, was never meant to
disguise or reveal your real identity but instead, it was created for an
instant of convenience to serve a purpose and then discarded, disposed of in a
manner of speaking, and move on to the next assignment.
No two
masks were the same and no job assigned was the same. I am not sure in
particular purposes, what mask I wore but I knew that I had put on a different mask
for different people and places.
One can
imagine how hard it is to match up your own traits to those of others but these
rogue assignments were meant to shape shift or change your role as the medic
assigned. Certain people may bring out certain traits, but that's because they
also have those traits, so there's a resonance. It's not hiding part of myself,
it's that part of me becomes a bigger part of my personality.
This was
a basic necessity to handle the role given. If I was assigned to infantry units,
I adjusted to their means and mode of travel, sleeping, eating, fighting and
movement. The same was true for being with the mobile armored cavalry and the
stationary artillery units.
Every
unit had its own behaviors. In the manner speaking, as a rogue medic, I had to
adjust my personality to theirs whether I liked it or not because I was the
temp and they were in command so this adjustment or adaptation was done so not
to cause an unwanted conflict or situational indifference to the mission and
roles demanded.
Which
mask I wore at the time was imagined to be somewhat or rather disconcerting,
when around people that emphasize different parts of my personality or in this
case, my medical skills or purpose of the assignment given. Luckily, I was more
or less not too “self-centered” as a person then, then I once was before
arriving in Vietnam, so it shouldn't cause an unwanted situation.
However,
there was a legitimate reason for the mask. A mask that I wear for a particular
role or person (I hate that mask), and another that I wear for a particular
situation. I'm going to focus on the situational one. As for what it would look
like if made physical... well, you could picture it as a role shifting ever
changing façade that was genuine but never really the true face I wore.
Whenever
I feel that I'm in a dangerous situation, whether physical danger or danger of
hurting someone's feelings or something else that I want to avoid, I stop doing
whatever I want and start simply watching, and reacting accordingly.
From what
I can tell, most people don't notice that I'm not reacting normally, so it's a
good thing it's not physical. It is fair to say that because my stay with them
hardly ever lasted more than two months if that long, they really never knew
the real me as I was constantly changing masks to fit the needs of the outfit I
was with.
I didn’t like
the poetry of my masks, by the way, I always felt it was fake. A stage of
pretending and flawed in design and purpose but being rogue, you don’t make
friends, you don’t get attached to individuals you want to socialize with and
you don’t ever reveal anything personal about yourself.
Anyway,
using the mask allowed me to deadens my emotions, which I can actually do
whenever I want. I don't like doing it, though. I like my emotions, and cherish
each one that comes along. It is useful to be able to dismiss them, but what
would life be without them?
However,
in wartime, emotions are considered weaknesses. The showing of your feelings
was strongly discouraged and the mask concealed many tears that I shed while
doing my job. Anyway, the only purpose for even using a mask was to help me
cope with the different situations faced with in combat, or while were standing
down waiting for the next set of orders.
I had a
couple masks simply for the purpose of field performance, and I suppose I also
had a mask that would manifest as a frame with puzzle pieces that were never
removed, while in the presence of others, allowing me to hide or show what I
want.
It was
never fun wearing the various masks -this type of concealment never allowed me
to show everyone exactly who I was. If you wear a mask, someone will eventually
call your bluff and then there is the deeper loss that comes from the inside of
you – the freedom to be who you really are.
But this
isn’t reality, because we do care. And because we care we’ve
developed habitual masks to satisfy and influence others who looked to you for
certain skills and duties, under the most stressful times in your life. There
came a time in the year while I was there I changed masks so many times by
habit, I didn’t even notice I was doing it.
There is
no doubt in my mind that I never stopped hiding behind a mask of some sort,
even after the war ended for my part of it. How I felt about my real face was
irrelevant. I was assigned to portray the role of a medic. As long as I was
true to myself and doing what I was trained to do, I felt that I was being me
and no matter what kind of situation the Army put me in, I adapted my face to
suit the role given.
There was
never a fear of the mask coming off and reveal the real me. My intent was never
to deceive but to remain anonymous and unknown to those around me. I am certain
that as sure as I was wearing my mask in front of them, they were wearing their masks in front of me. Imagine a strong wind
gust sweeps through the outfit assigned, blowing all masks off. It’s
mayhem, faces are exposed, and for maybe the first time for many, their real
personalities and features are now there in plain sight to see. Can you feel
the level of vulnerability if exposed?
Can you
see how you are encouraged to meet, and mingle and socialize with each other
and then lose them the next fire-fight or ambush engaged in with the enemy?
What is the emotional cost of such suffering and how do you endure than more
than once or twice in your life?
We were
all so afraid to be authentic so we wore masks. Even if our skin was
irritated by the mask worn, we could hardly take it off and relax or be
ourselves, as we would end up resisting the change in character or role being
played and expose the soft tissue of the belly sort of speak.
This epic
performance is a huge drain on our minds, bodies and souls. It’s a hard act to
constantly pretend to be, or feel like you need to be, someone else. Similarly,
it’s very draining to regularly act like you feel one way when you really feel
another.
However,
the stress was greatly reduced when the time spent was short and the need to
pretend was only a pseudo process to allow us to remain to be ourselves and
maintain our own personality traits, behaviors, values, beliefs and needs. It’s
having the courage to acknowledge our limitations, and embrace our own
vulnerability.
Wearing a
mask protects us from vulnerability. I fear that if I stand tall and exposed, someone
will perceive me to be “weak” in some way. But when you wear a mask you stand
in resistance to your true life and end up attracting realities that conflict
with who you really are but that protects you in the long run by the avoidance
of relationships and feelings for others. As a human being, we all perform all
of the time; we all pretend some of the time. As a medic, you have to reflect
the image or vision that we have it all together to give the men the confidence
they need to depend on you when they need you.
I often looked
at my own profile and never felt any shame for the roles I was portraying to
suit the needs of the men, the unit and the situation at hand. Trust me when I
say that my performance was focused on the role as a medic, not as a warrior or
anything else resembling another job or occupation within the team assigned to
at the time.
I
remember one time, while being assigned to a long range reconnaissance patrol
aka LRRP, how imperfect I was for their role and their needs. These men were
dare devils, skilled to fight, kill and dominate any situations encountered.
There was no room for weakness with them. They were nearly perfect and far more
superior than I was in my training but I couldn’t admit to them that I was a
lesser man to keep up with their needs. So I wore a mask to step up the game
with them. I was not going to admit that I was imperfect compared to their
level.
Although
I knew my imperfections made me human, unique and relatable, there was no such
purpose at hand to show such traits. I had to be like them and suffered a great
physical pain doing so. Life is life, it will never be perfect. But exposing
your true imperfections in a war, makes you more vulnerable to more stress and
anxiety and opens you up to a world of deeper, meaningful, and supportive
relationships that you could ill afford to take or make at the time of such
circumstances.
I learned
to cope with everything they threw at me without complaining. I pretended to be
as strong as them even when everything was falling apart inside my body and
outside as well. The fatigue, stress and wear and tear on the body and the
rigors of this kind of association almost killed me.
We all
get to the point too, when we can’t take another step. There’s no shame in that, and you don’t have to pretend to be strong
but let me warn you, once you show that weakness, your role has been compromised
and as a medic, you never ask for help for yourself but only for the treatment
of others. That’s the standard we were taught, that the training we received
and that’s the message that you make when you are assigned to a rogue
assignment somewhere in the middle of Hell.
So the mask I [you] wore was determined by the
circumstances demanded on me [you]. One could ill afford to throw that mask
away and let others into your life or mind when given the tasks assigned to be
the strong one, the smart one or the durable one. Hell, there were even times,
where you had to be the grumpy or the funny one if the situation called for it.
There
will come a point in life, when we are sick and completely exhausted of all the
masks we have been juggling in wartime or in peace.
For some
it’s when death is approaching, and at this time you realize the futility of
the masks. However, you do realize it was a matter of being practical and
necessity, although it was wrong to act that way, you survived it and it protected
your inner sanctum up to a certain point. I was very fortunate to be come down
with any sicknesses as it was realized that during such episodes, our minds can
be so tired that it no longer has the energy to create and hold up the
different masks we sought out and wore so often; so we finally appear in our
true being.
Some will tell you that masks are signs of
weaknesses. That it misaligns your true self and your own personality. For them
I would say, walk a mile in my shoes and tell me if the mask is a tool for
weakness or strengths. When you reduce your vulnerability to life, your efforts
are so much stronger and your confidence and your courage becomes
unquestionably your best assets to overcome adversity.
