Don't Tell Me It Don't Mean Nuthin'

        Josef Ratajkowski received his draft notice in 1968. He had never once considered avoiding the draft by faking an illness or a medical condition. He would answer the call to serve his country but only on his terms, he informed the Sgt. sitting behind the desk at the induction center of his non-negotiable offer to become a non-weapon carrying combat medic.

               At his first duty station in Vietnam, he forewarned the company clerk that he would only accept an assignment as an OJT (on-the -job training) medic. The clerk sent him straight out to the field to begin his short tutelage with a capable, seasoned 2^nd tour medic. He had been placed in the 3^rd squad along with AC (the high-strung ex-ranger), Stoney (eventual pointman, best friend and confidant), Lightning (a streetwise native of Harlem), Luis Domingus (seasoned combat vet) and the ever brooding, quasi-loner PFC Black. All of them considered the new medic, nicknamed Doc Coolbreeze, a tad crazy for his refusal to bear arms but welcomed him to their close-knit group and in fact became his protectors. He became a skilled medic and received praise and commendations for actions under fire out in the jungles, but there were guys intent on testing him and harming him for his beliefs. He witnessed war crimes and serial murder, he questioned his complicity and returned home a broken man.

               He turned to drugs in an effort to wipeout the flashbacks and nightmares that were crippling his attempt to return to civilian life. More than 30 years after he returned home from the war he was diagnosed with PTSD. With the help of therapy at a VA trauma center, the 12-step program of Narcotics Anonymous and the support of his beautiful loving wife he was able to come back to life and the love of grandchildren and friends.