INTERVIEW•TONY BLAKE
REFOCUSSED Vietnam War veteran finds peace from PTSD in pursuit of GKR gradings
M
ILITARY veteran Tony Blake is more familiar than most with the notion of the fog of war — the situational uncertainty associated with armed conflict. A former member of the 7th Battalion, Royal Australian Regiment, he served in the Vietnam War and experienced firsthand the alarm and confusion of closequarter combat. And while he personally escaped the bloody campaign in South East Asia physically unscathed, the fog failed to lift on his return home in March 1971 and he was left nursing deep emotional scars. “I found so many difficulties in everyday life when I came back from Vietnam,” the 72-year-old said. “I never wanted to have many people near me and I really struggled with loud noises. At home, I couldn’t even handle my two boys running around playing cowboys and Indians.” Revealing the root of his mental unrest, Tony described to Shimbun how he was haunted by memories of an incident that unfolded close to the end of his 12-month
operational tour. While returning to camp after ambushing a Viet Cong position, a member of his platoon — the soldier walking directly in front of him — stood on a landmine. “I was so lucky not to be injured apart from a couple of small hits by shrapnel,” Tony, who was 21 at the time, explained. “I was carrying the medical kit when the blast went off so, while everyone else probed for more mines, I used my rifle’s bayonet to prod the earth in front of me and reach John [the wounded infantryman] as quickly and safely as I could. “I splinted his legs with an unloaded rifle and secured it with bandages. Fortunately we all survived but I have suffered from flashbacks of that moment ever since.” Despite his harrowing experience overseas, Tony transferred to the Royal Australian Army Medical Corps and served a further six years before the psychological effects of his time in the jungle forced him to hang up his uniform. With a family to support he took a job as a brick burner in the Southern Highlands of New South Wales, working late afternoon
and night shifts. The unsocial hours suited his search for solitude from others but a little too well and, missing the camaraderie of the Services, Tony found himself feeling increasingly isolated. With very few friends to confide in, his mental health continued to deteriorate but it was not until 1997 — more than twoand-a-half decades after feeling the heat of battle — that he finally reached out for professional help. A diagnosis of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) duly followed and Tony, who was born in the UK and emigrated with his family to Australia in 1965, spent a month in a mental health hospital learning to manage the triggers that had tormented him for so long. World events, however, conspired against his treatment and when the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan began making daily headlines, his anxiety returned with a vengeance. Spotting Tony’s need for an enduring distraction, the Australian Department of Veterans’ Affairs advised the retired sergeant to pursue a sporting endeavour — guidance that would rekindle an old passion
“AT HOME, I COULDN’T EVEN HANDLE MY TWO BOYS RUNNING AROUND PLAYING COWBOYS AND INDIANS.”
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SHIMBUN
Issue #5
