The Heroic Journal  

  

 

"I will not give in to that darkness of war. I will not let war take away the fullness of life." Reverend Dr. Alan Cutter

 
 
The Reverend Dr. Alan Cutter understands Post Traumatic Spiritual Progression (what some would diagnose as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) better than most. He has his doctorate in theology, and the current head of the Presbytery in Southern Louisiana (New Orleans area) and has been in the ministry for more than three decades.  What really prepared him for the awareness of the spiritual journey after trauma was his personal journey after physically returning from combat.
 

"[War] is a journey into spiritual darkness." - Father William P. Mahedy
 

The first time I heard Alan Cutter's interview with Not Alone (story about Not Alone is included in this journal), I was riveted by his story. Anyone could hear that he was good at his calling when hearing his story. For someone who has given thousands of sermons and public talks, relating a story is part of his profession.  Yet, when he began to talk about his combat experiences, the elegant and resonant New Englander's voice gave way to that of wounded youth who had been thrust into the meat-grinder of war.
 

"At it's heart, war is a wound to the spirit." Jonathan Shay, M. D.
 

He reveals how it took him nineteen years to even BEGIN the journey home, emotionally and spiritually, AFTER physically returning from his 1971-1972 tour to Vietnam as a naval officer, with lengthy specialized training as a North Vietnamese interpreter, received while he was an enlisted man and part of the Naval Security Group. Cutter first noticed the rhythm of the "hero's journey" (as Otto Rank, Joseph Campbell and Michael Meade eloquently describe), or as Cutter noted "sub-hero."
 
Because of his unique skills as an interpreter, he was trained as a Naval Intelligence Liaison Officer and his first assignment was as Executive Officer on a mobile response team.  After several operations, Cutter made a conscious decision about survival. "If I am going to survive, I am going to have to live in anger." That anger may have saved his life repeatedly. That same determination continues to this day, although it takes a different form. He now says that "the war will not take another casualty."
 
Dr. Cutter stated in an interview, that he previously had a tripod belief: family - faith - nation - which war dismantled. There was a shattering of illusions, when he expected neutrality from the community, and instead, received hostility, even from his own community of faith. He had not even made it back home before he had the first experience with the unwelcoming.  When on a plane returning home, a woman and her child were to be seated on the plane next to the warrior in uniform. Cutter overheard the woman tell the flight attendant, "We can't sit there. I don't want my child to sit next to a baby killer." Although that comment was made more than three decades ago, it still causes Cutter's pastoral voice to crack.  As he tells it now, part of the pain of that is there was some truth in that statement.  An ambush ended with a 15-year-old Vietnamese female enemy soldier being killed. "Children are not immune to war...Children could be used as weapons." That incident was the moment of inception, the moment of the "tearing of my soul." 
 
Three things he has learned about returning from war:
 
People will misunderstand you.
People will ignore you.
If people can't ignore you, they can be cruel to you.

 

He doesn't hold grudges for he understands it is a human, self-protective mechanism when they are not capable of receiving the truths about the realities of the veteran experience.
 
Throughout history, as part of the training in preparing warriors to fight, to defend and be prepared to kill, dehumanization of the enemy has been essential. Cutter said he was never able to dehumanize the enemy because his job required him to learn the language of the enemy.  That took away from the dehumanization process learned in Basic Military Training.
 
During "Bush War I" (aka Desert Storm - 1990), Reverend Cutter stated that he officiated four funerals - three of them veterans in the span of a week. At that time his flashbacks were becoming worse and he found a brochure for the local Vet Center. But, that is when he began to (very reluctantly at first) enlist the help of others. He describes sitting in the parking lot for 4-5 hours, checking out "who would go in a place like that."  The first day he did not go in.  The next day, he calculatedly went toward the end of the day and asked if there was someone he could talk to. An appointment was set and that was when he began his return.  He did not want to go through the whole process and "all I wanted was someone to patch me up, a quick-fix."
 
During the process of working with a counselor at the Vet Center, he realized that the 40+ year old vet also had a "profane, angry twenty-five year old naval officer who couldn't understand why he couldn't return home.  The counselor said "Your mission now is to bring him home." This was a first step, a 'Crossing the Threshold' emotionally and spiritually.
 
Part of the spiritual journey of reconciliation was doing what he could professionally do for others, but not for himself. He describes he had "broken nearly all commandments" and seemed intent on keeping that part of him far from the clergy part of him.
 
Eventually, part of his healing would include joining forces with Father Phil Salois (Vietnam Veterans of America National Chaplain) and Reverend Jack Day to run groups to facilitate healing in others. ( www.vietnamveteranministers.org ) Their healing would follow. The return journey started a new journey which continues to this day.
 
As part of the Ultimate Boon - or the gifts from the process of returning emotionally and spiritually, he found he had a profound seeking for something more.  He slowly began to realize that God's wish for him what that he experience a fullness of life.  Amongst a life of death, destruction and war, he found, in the depths and darkness of the experience a great joy and a determination (angry determination at first) to not let the war take away the fullness of life. "I will not give in to that darkness of war."
 
Through this he began willing to take the risk - sometimes the risk was well-received and sometimes he was "kicked in the teeth" again. When he was able to accept the gift of the ability to talk about how deeply he had been wounded, he began to open up a part of himself to others that had not been open previously.  He soon found that connecting deeply to others became an adrenaline rush like combat. Until then, there had been an emptiness he tried to fill with many things.
 
As he went through the process of not telling anyone, to beginning to open up, to wanting to tell everyone and then developing boundaries of who could be open to hearing his story, he saw the importance of community in the healing.
 
Cutter described himself as "not a touchy-feely kind of guy." He says, the gift of tears is the grease to get a human being working again. The ability to cry saved his life.
 
The receiver of a story, as well as the storyteller, is essential in the healing.  As he began to tell his story, it resonated with others who had experienced trauma and it began to break their shame and isolation and gave them a sacred place to open their story.  The Reverend fully moved into the role of "wounded healer." This role as a warrior elder, gave others permission to share their despair and pain and to gain a sense of hope in healing.  His work in the devastated and healing New Orleans, has been particularly appropriate.
 
His healing has enabled him to learn how and when to tell his others about his experiences and with his children, and at what ages it is appropriate.
 
Between 1972 and 1991, Cutter did not tell any of his story for nearly 20 years even his parents, nor his wife. "I could not talk about it." The isolation and shame, even from his own self...Cutter never dreamed he would come back alive, in fact,  He describes he would keep going by toasting the sunrise with a bottle of bourbon, a 45 and the warrior's mantra "It's a good day to die." He never gave up his faith in God, but for years, he gave up his trust in mankind.
 
Fortunately, for all of us who have heard Reverend Cutter's story, we will be reminded of Wayne Muller's words on transformation:

Within the sorrow there is grace,
When we come close to those things that break us down,
We also touch the things that break us open,
And in that breaking open, we uncover our true nature.
 
 
Reverend Dr. Alan Cutter may be reached at cutter2658@bellsouth.net  
His powerful story is available in podcast at www.notalone.com - https://www.notalone.com/good-day-to-die-917.htm
To find out more about clergy helping veterans www.vietnamveteranministers.org 

 

 
"I lost my mother, father, sister and brother a long time ago so I don't know where to go after I go out of this school"...
--student at a boarding school for ex-child soldiers in Uganda

 

These words were spoken by one of my students in Gulu, Uganda during a music and art camp being held at a local boarding school just a couple of months ago.  I work for an organization called Invest in Children and our mission is to help bring hope, healing and coping skills to at-risk and traumatized youth in the US and Africa.   Uganda is the location of Africa's longest running war...and that battle is still raging today after 25 years. 
 
Imagine being abducted at the age of seven, given an AK47 and forced to fight in a war that you don't understand and didn't ask for.  Imagine seeing your mother, father, sister and brother murdered, raped or mutilated right in front of your eyes, while you stood powerless to stop it.   Imagine waking up to find that your child is missing and feared to be taken by the Lord's Resistance Army (aka LRA) and turned into a soldier or a sex slave...Imagine not knowing if you'll ever see them again.  In America, this is a difficult supposition because it simply doesn't happen.  In Uganda it is a common theme amongst many in the Northern region of the country.  The Acholi people have been traumatized for quarter of a century...So much so, that over 67% of all people in Northern Uganda suffer from depression and 54% suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.   (For more information on this war, please visit www.investinchildrenafrica.org). 
 
This battle has gone on for so many years that there are literally thousands upon thousands affected by it.  But I am here to tell you only about one....we'll call him 'Ronnie'.   Ronnie is a gentle, soft spoken and wise young man that was abducted at a young age by the LRA.  He was taken across the border into Sudan, trained to be a soldier and forced to fight under the direction of a man named Joseph Kony.  He told me that there were times that he never thought he would escape the horrors of what he had done, what he had seen or the pain that he endured while in captivity.  He had lost his mother, father, brother and sister to the very people that he was forced to become a soldier for.  Over time, he gained the trust of the leaders and he began to make runs into Uganda to get supplies and bring them back for the army...Finally, a day came where he had the opportunity to escape...and he took it.  Ronnie managed to flee the LRA by hiding in the bush during a battle of open gunfire and crossing a river that borders between Uganda and Sudan.   He spent many days in fear of being captured by the army again and sought refuge in the village of his childhood.  His homecoming was not welcomed by the villagers.  They were angry, unforgiving and shunned him because of his time spent as a soldier...Eventually, he learned about the boarding school for ex-child soldiers and war affected youth.  At least in this facility, there would be people like himself-a community of fellow ex-child soldiers that had shared similar experiences.  This is where I met him.  Ronnie was older than many of the students and it was clear that he held a leadership role amongst them. 
 
Our theme for this year was on hope and how to find it in the midst of life's trials and tough circumstances.  As you can imagine, this is a difficult concept for those who have suffered so much and continue to live in poverty and challenging times.  Our character study for the theme was Job...a man who suffered greatly and yet continued to have hope in God.   As we began to discuss the role of hope on survival, Ronnie raised his hand and began to share with some of his fellow students:

"When I was in the bush the only thing that kept me going was hope.  I would pray to God that it would somehow end.  I didn't know when or how it would happen.  But He gave me hope.  You should keep in mind that when Job lost his wife, his children, his livestock, his possessions, his wealth and his health, he still had hope in God.  When Job was covered in boils from head to toe, and was scratching his open wounds with shards, he had no indication that his suffering would ever come to an end.  He wasn't told by God that it would one day end...why?  Because it wouldn't have developed the character or faith in Job that God knew he had.   He chose to hope in God in spite of what he could see with his eyes.  We must also do this." 
 
I sat back in absolute shock when I heard this young man of 15 or 16 years speak with such insight and wisdom to his peers.  He spoke gently and with compassion to them and many were encouraged and strengthened through his testimony.  Ronnie went on to relay how he still suffers condemnation and judgment  from villagers, some teachers at the school and even some students...yet he has hope that this will one day change. 
 
Ronnie pulled me aside to tell me more of his story later that day.   He explained that after the holidays he would be leaving the facility because he is getting too old to stay.  He asked me for a pair of tennis shoes so that we could walk to where he needed to go (although he had no idea where he was going since he had no family or village to return to).  He told me that he has hopes of one day being a driver for people like us coming into Uganda...we want to help him achieve that goal.  I made sure to give Ronnie contact information for our people on the ground in Uganda so that we can keep up with him...and of course I gave him the shoes that he so desperately wanted.   I have great expectations for Ronnie's success in life, because he is such a wise and compassionate person.  He made a difference in the lives of those children by taking his experiences in the bush and using them to bless and encourage other ex-child soldiers in their daily struggles.  I sincerely hope that our paths will cross again when I go to Uganda in November....I would love to tell Ronnie what an impact he is making, not just in his community, but around the world.   His story is one we can all learn from.  
 

 

Dr. Dave Grossman, Lt. Col., U.S.Army (ret), Former Army Ranger, Former West Point Professor of Military Science 

 

 

 

 

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