Dimensions
155 x 236 x 23mm
"After returning from Vietnam, I kept my illness hidden for years with long hours of work, study, and sport: anything that produced total exhaustion and allowed me to fall into a bed and sleep. It was a successful ploy; in the early years I had endless energy and lived as a recluse. But I was wearing out - my resilience to the flashbacks and nightmares was weakening. I survived on two, sometimes four hours sleep a night, became hypervigilant, wary of crowded places, and my general physical health deteriorated. I was no longer able to hide Vietnam from myself. Then one night I collapsed, knew I was dying and, I now believe, welcomed the event. I had no strength mentally or physically but just a vague will that I wanted to live. Perhaps more important was that I didn't want to die that way - ever. It wasn't right or fair to those around me. I wanted to be me . . . whoever that was."
In an intensely personal account, Heard draws on his own experiences as a young conscript to look back at life before, during, and after the Vietnam War. The result is a sympathetic vision of a group of young men who were sent off to war completely unprepared for the impact it would have on them. In particular, this is a vivid and honest portrayal of the author's post-war, slow-motion breakdown.
It details the absurdity of military training and the horror of the war, but focuses on what happened to these men when they returned home to Australia,and their shared experiences of alienation, anxiety, depression and guilt. Heard's sensitive account of his long journey home from Vietnam is an inspiring story of a life reclaimed.
Told with gentle understatement, 'Well Done, Those Men' gives voice to a lost generation of Australian men.
