Editor’s note: There is strong language in this article. The Daily World believes it helps capture the essence of the story of living with and healing from the wounds of war.
Battlefield wounds have become a normalized sight in America after two decades of conflict have seen members of the military lose fingers, limbs, eyes, snatched away by the devouring maw of the war, without even accounting for those who didn’t return from the war at all.
In that time, the country has also sought to better understand and attempt to treat the wounds that don’t stick out in sight, the missing limbs or the eyepatches that cause the eye to skip a beat and look again— the mental wounds, those carried inside.
Mike McNeley, a former soldier, veteran of the Gulf War, and son of Aberdeen recently rode across the country as part of an effort to raise awareness of those invisible weights and to raise money through GoFundMe for a nonprofit that seeks to help veterans connect with resources for treating those wounds such as post-traumatic stress disorder or traumatic brain injuries.
“The ride kind of came about — it kind of built up over a few weeks,” McNeley said. “Who picks the beginning of winter to go on an epic journey across the fucking country?”
McNeley said he began reaching out to possible places to stay before setting out on Oct. 12.
“I literally got an hour and a half down the road and I just got so emotionally upswept I had to pull over,” McNeley said. “Ultimately it was an adventure. Go on a trip, learn some things, make some breakthroughs.”
McNeley said he spent the trip reconnecting with members of his old units, such as David Salet and Robert Mills, both veterans of the Gulf War with McNeley.
“It’s a long ride on a motorcycle,” Salet said. “When I talked to him, he said ‘I’m super excited but scared shitless.’”
While McNeley said he’d kept in contact with many friends from his time in, he hadn’t physically seen them in decades. Salet said it was a little jarring, seeing McNeley after the passage of time.
“It was different. I hadn’t seen him physically for a long time. We hadn’t got to see each other for like, 30 years,” Salet said. “In person, in my mind, I was expecting (McNeley) from 30 years ago to show up. I was expecting 20-something-year-old McNeley to show up.”
That in-person contact can’t be emphasized enough, McNeley said.
“Some of these relationships you’ve maintained for 30 years, it’s good to get some flesh and blood between the texts and emails and phone calls, and a few shots of bourbon,” McNeley said. “It’s good to get some brotherly love, reconnect with who I was at that time. We all morph over time.”
McNeley said he took a meandering route, taking time to see the sights in places as he rode down the coast toward San Francisco and Las Vegas before dropping down south through Texas and the Deep South before terminating his ride in Georgia.
“I want to live, man. I don’t want to survive, I want to fucking live,” McNeley said. “One of the things I did on the ride was make myself pull off the road and go see things. I saw the biggest pistachio. I did the loop through the Redwood Forest.”
McNeley said he’d only ride for a certain amount of time each day, staying within the limits of endurance.
“I would stop a lot. I wasn’t trying to be a superhero on the bike. I was really only driving 6-8 hours of actual seat time on the bike (per day),” McNeley said. “On the bike you’re so heightened alert-wise, on such an elevated level of, holy fuck these guys are trying to kill me, you’ve only got 7-8 hours. And that’s in prime conditions.”
As he stopped with friends across the country, McNeley said he’d go out and explore the area, interviewing other veterans with a few basic questions about their time in the service, about their experiences with the military and with returning to life afterwards, as he gathered stories.
“We talked to some old timers. We’d roll into the VFW if there wasn’t one too far away.” McNeley said. “War stories are fun. The fish is always bigger than it was.” McNeley said he stored his bike in Georgia as wintery conditions made it less safe to ride, intending to return to it come the thaw.
“Less than 7% of the population ride motorcycles, much less make a trip of that epic proportion,” McNeley said. “I did something a lot people will never experience, ever. I’ve done a lot of things that people will never experience like jumping out of planes and rappelling out of helicopters.”
McNeley said he was able to visit a number of old friends from the Army as he made his way across the country, covering 5,100 miles before flying home in December.
“I plan to continue my campaign for awareness and education in mental health, and in essence paving a way for others that may find themselves in similar situations, will have a better map, and understanding of benefits and programs available to us, and how to actually achieve getting into them,” McNeley said. “I do plan on continuing to champion for DAV (Disabled American Veterans) and veterans alike for better recognition and treatment of TBI, PTSD, and mental health in general.”
Veterans and mental health
McNeley, like many veterans, said he was less than impressed with the military’s assistance in transitioning back to civilian life.
“They don’t do shit for you for the transformation back into civilian life,” McNeley said. “When I got out, I ran so hard from the military. I wanted no part of it. I had seen the ugly part of it.”
After years of dealing by himself with issues he was carrying around connected to his time in the military, to injuries and experiences in the service, McNeley said he sought help in dealing with those issues and the Department of Veterans Affairs.
“I’d been out of the Army for a while before I realized someone said you need to put in an appeal,” McNeley said. “It’s something you’ve earned through your sacrifice and your willingness to lay your body on the line for this fucked-up country.”
McNeley worked with Disabled American Veterans, a nonprofit that works to help veterans dealing with ongoing issues from their time in the service.
“DAV, the only reason I chose them is they’re a good organization, a nonprofit. They’re advocates for mental health; it’s one of the most overlooked aspects in the veteran community,” McNeley said. “It’s about the mental health and self love and care. Vets are horrible at taking care of themselves. They tend to do it in crisis only and that’s part of the problem.”
McNeley had worked with DAV to get connected with some of the resources that could help him and his situation.
“I am not ashamed of my mental illness. I suffer from PTSD and anxiety. A lot of this stems from my own struggles, my own battles,” McNeley said. “There are resources. There are opportunities. There are programs specifically designed for guys like for, for the situation I’m in, so that a temporary situation doesn’t become a permanent reality.”
Many of the issues faced by veterans, including PTSD, traumatic brain injuries and other combat or military-related conditions, can be difficult for regular medical practitioners to treat, Salet said.
“I was the medic. I stayed working in the medical field for a long time. I think making healthcare providers — the psychologists, the psychiatrists — better educated or more aware of specific issues with veterans … most don’t have a clue. It’s just something they learned from their book,” Salet said. “Clinically speaking, it’s not going to be any different diagnoses. The difference is the circumstances behind it are going to be different.”
Treating those conditions carried in the head and heart can be difficult, without a tangible malady to address, Salet said.
“Psychiatry is a very hit or miss … it’s not an exact science. It’s very frustrating, speaking as a patient. It’s a very frustrating process,” Salet said. “You can’t quantify it. You can’t take blood and say this is what you have, and this is what we’re going to give you.”
For those veterans carrying their war with them still, silent wounds bleeding still, Salet recommended reaching out.
“Seek help. If you think something is wrong, something is probably wrong. Go see somebody, go talk to somebody. Let somebody drive your bus for a while,” Salet said. “Don’t be embarrassed. People are often embarrassed to seek help.”
There are resources to help veterans in need, McNeley, and organizations like DAV and others can help connect those resources with the people they’re meant to help.
“That’s the message I’m trying to bring forward,” McNeley said. “You don’t have to be there. Choose different.”
If you want to contribute:
To contribute to McNeley’s fundraising, visit his GoFundMe at https://www.gofundme.com/f/dav-support-ride?utm_campaign=p_lico+share-sheet&utm_medium=copy_link&utm_source=customer
Veterans experiencing a mental health crisis can call 988, extension 1 or text 838255 for the Veterans Crisis Line.
Contact reporter Michael S. Lockett at 757-621-1197 or mlockett@thedailyworld.com.