Many folks know Steve Forgey as a strong and lucky guy. Even his wife of 50 years says she has never seen him cry.
While the Vietnam War veteran says he treasures his Purple Heart above all of his other military medals, the 73-year-old Petersville resident admits he didn’t even know there was such a thing as an annual Purple Heart Day. However, most people were unaware of the Aug. 7 observance when it arrived last Saturday, because it has only been seven years since Purple Heart Day became an unofficial observance.
The observance was created to encourage residents to treat Purple Heart recipients with both respect and understanding. Folks also need to understand that many Purple Heart recipients never fully recover from both physical and psychological wounds they suffered, said Forgey’s wife, Brenda.
Like father, like son
Growing up near Freetown, Steve Forgey and other family members had a strong connection with the military. His father, Charles Ray Forgey (1923-2008) receive two Purple Hearts during World War II while serving under Gen. George S. Patton.
But unlike many combat veterans, Charles Forgey didn’t have a problem talking with others back home about ordeals he suffered while fighting in Normandy, the Rhineland and central Europe.
After Steve Forgey joined the U.S. Army and completed his training, the 20-year-old Specialist (E4) infantryman arrived in Vietnam for the first time on April 21, 1968 through Cam Ranh Bay, off the South China Sea.
He was stationed in the Central Highlands of Vietnam, not far from provincial capitals like Pleiku and Kon Tum. For most of May, he was stationed at a base called LZ (Landing Zone) Bingo during the month of May. In early June, his platoon was moved to LZ Brillo Pad, located west of Kontom.
On June 7, Forgey’s company set out to ambush a North Vietnamese Army enemy squad. His platoon was led down one trail when, at the last minute, their commanding officer ordered them off the trail after seeing NVA soldiers approaching them. The NVA was also on an ambush mission, and Forgey recalls that while the largest part of his unit was hit that day, he was uninjured.
For the next three days, there was no fighting. On June 10, he was with three other members of his platoon were in their bunker and listening to B-52 air strikes.
“We noticed the sound kept getting louder and louder until, the next thing you know, we started to get hit by mortars,” Forgey recalls.
Although the heavy barrage of shells lasted only a few minutes, two of Forgey’s comrades were killed instantly. While the third was picked up by a medical helicopter, he eventually died of his wounds at a field hospital.
“They were my friends,” Forgey said. “I saw them every day.”
Forgey, who suffered a shoulder injury, was also ordered on to the same helicopter. It would be years later that physicians discovered a small piece of shrapnel was lodged in the side of his head, he said.
The Freetown native spent nearly three weeks in the 71st Evacuation Hospital hospital at Pleiku, followed by two weeks in a convalescent center before being sent back to his unit.
He would have a number of other harrowing combat experiences until April 1969, when his tour of duty was up and he left Pleiku on a bus that took him back to Cam Ranh Bay for the transport home. As he was about to leave Vietnam, he learned that the base he had just left was hit hard by NVA forces, leaving several casualties.
Hiding the pain
Upon returning to civilian life in south central Indiana, Forgey was successful in appearing normal to friends and acquaintances.
“But his Dad knew what he was going through,” Brenda Forgey said.
After a mysterious rash appeared on his body, he underwent a lengthy treatment. Today, Forgey travels to the Roudebush V.A. Medical Center in Indianapolis for treatment of a melanoma skin cancer.
But after that, Steve Forgey would not see another physician for about 20 years, his wife said. However, Brenda Forgey says she has long noticed symptoms in her husband of what’s now known as post-traumatic stress disorder.
He has become short on patience, experiences anxiety and hypertension, is unable to drive in traffic, cannot stay within a crowded room, nor sit for a lengthy period of time. While it was understandable that he suffered nightmares after watching Oliver Stone’s 1986 Vietnam War film “Platoon,” Forgey said he’s also bothered by seeing shining lights on towers.
Brenda Forgey admits she’s worried about long-delayed consequences from his exposure to Agent Orange, which has been linked to tissue sarcoma, non-Hodgkin lymphoma, Hodgkin disease and multiple forms of leukemia. Although the evidence is not conclusive, the chemical used during the Vietnam War may also be linked to respiratory cancers, prostate cancer, bladder cancer and multiple myeloma.
Facing the problem
A common part of PTSD is survivor’s guilt, where someone feels guilty for surviving the traumatic events when others died, or for not being able to rescue others. The couple has tried to address that issue with a cathartic visit to the Vietnam Memorial in Washington D.C., as well as a trip to Rock Island, Illinois to visit the family of an army buddy who was killed in action.
Forgey is also enthusiastic about remaining a member of the Bartholomew County Veterans Honor Guard.
“He feels that’s the last thing he can do for the veterans,” his wife said.
Many combat veterans get messed up in the head when they can’t find support from either their government or family, Brenda Forgey said.
If there’s one thing that Purple Heart recipients — and those who support them — should keep in mind, it’s that nobody should have to hide their pain and emotions, and if they need help or support, that is not a sign of weakness, she said.
“Because if they refuse to seek support, it’s just going to get worse when they get older,” Brenda Forgey said.
