Justin Weis spent his days in Iraq serving in a Marine Corps mortuary affairs platoon, tentatively identifying and fingerprinting his fellow soldiers who had been killed in battle.

The experience left him with nightmares, mood swings, depression and anger. All symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder.

“A lot of the condition stems from survivor’s guilt,” he said. “Why did I get to come home and they didn’t.”

Everyday things trigger him.

“It took me forever to figure out why I was getting mad while I was doing dishes, but it was because I could smell the bleach from underneath the counter,” the 31-year-old from Huber Heights said. “We used it (in Iraq) to clean up after what we were doing.”

To cope, Weis meets with other veterans living with PTSD weekly at the Dayton Veterans Affairs Medical Center. In a roundtable at the Dayton Daily News, he and five fellow veterans shared their combat experiences in places like Iraq and Afghanistan and describe the toll it has taken on them emotionally, physically and mentally. Not everyone wanted to be identified because of the stigma attached to post-traumatic stress.

‘Normal’ doesn’t return

Life has never really returned to normal for Jack Choate, a Dayton man who spent a tour of duty as an Ohio Army National Guard convoy truck driver in Iraq during Desert Storm in 1991.

“Living one life and trying to go back to the life I used to know is kind of rough,” said Choate, 48. “Certain things I enjoy doing I can’t do anymore.

“I basically kind of keep to myself, and my dealings with friends are usually with friends in a group,” he said. “People that don’t know, it’s hard for them to understand us. We have to find things that take our mind off what we went through.”

In job interviews, when an interviewer learned Thomas Bush Jr. was a combat veteran, stereotypes arose, he said.

“All of a sudden you see a big change in people,” said Bush, a retired Air Force police officer with more than 30 deployments, including Desert Storm in the Middle East in 1991.

Bush, 54, of Riverside, hung up his uniform in 1996. Now, he volunteers at the Dayton VA. He’s in a wheelchair because of the wear and tear on his body while in uniform, he said.

“Unfortunately, I’ve had more than enough deployments around the world, including Desert Storm, and I know I changed. I can’t do things without being on alert. I still can’t do it.”

Weis still scans the top of buildings for snipers, even though he returned from war in 2004.

When he takes his 6-year-old daughter to a soccer game, he likes to stand near the edge of a crowd. He’s wary of screams. They remind him of what happened when he was in Iraq.

“It will be quiet then, bam, all of a sudden you’ve got screaming going on and it just takes you back to the point where you heard that stuff before,” he said. “It’s nice and quiet and calm and then all of a sudden there’s screaming everywhere. You don’t know where it’s coming from or why they’re screaming.”

Some of those with PTSD attempt to medicate with alcohol and drugs, bringing new personal battles, the veterans said. Some had thoughts of suicide.

“If you say you’ve never thought about (suicide), you’re lying,” said Mark D. Hawk, 53, of West Milton, an Army and Army Reserve veteran from the first Gulf war.

Bush said he once attempted suicide. “I had enough,” he said. “I lost too many guys in too many places overseas. I felt guilt over that. I didn’t want to deal with that anymore. I got frustrated with the job market. I just didn’t care anymore.”

Strained relationships

The stress of adjusting back to civilian life and coping with PTSD often can take a toll on relationships and marriages. Hawk had troubles in his marriage in 1993, two years after he served in Desert Storm. At that time, his wife decided to leave him, he said.

“When she said she was leaving, I just completely lost it,” he said. Hawk stopped at his brother’s house with a carload of guns. His brother calmed the situation, unloaded the car and got Hawk help, Hawk said.

“It was a terrible, terrible thing, but once I got home I had to rethink and redo all of my stuff,” he said.

“My wife and I are much better and much stronger than we ever were,” Hawk said. “We just celebrated 25 years in November. It’s just been an uphill battle the whole way.”

Weis nearly lost his marriage when he came back. He and his wife, Cheri, separated for nine months in 2008.

He was reclusive and stressed, he said. They took marriage therapy. They moved to Florida for two years to escape the “drama and stress” of life in Ohio.

They’ve stayed together, despite obstacles.

“I had to really force myself to put forth the effort to do it for her and for my daughter,” Weis said. “It’s really tough, especially for our loved ones to know us before and know us after. Complete turnaround.”

Support group saves lives

Circumstances sometimes make it difficult for service members to admit they need help, Weis said.

In his case, he said he and dozens of other Marines were asked when they returned if they needed help when they gathered in one room and a VA representative showed up.

Stepping forward in front of the others would be looked at as a weakness, he said. “It’s kind of hard for you to sit there and be like, well, yeah, I’m having problems,” he said.

Other times, veterans have to reach out to other veterans to convince them they may need help, they said.

“A lot of people don’t want anybody to realize they have a problem,” said David Meiring, 44, of St. Henry, an Army mechanic in Desert Storm.

The bond of watching each other’s back in war survives in the PTSD support group, veterans said.

The group, with 37 active members and more than 100 on the extended membership list, has had no suicides nor anyone arrested for a violent crime, they said.

“I’ve had calls in the middle of the night and I’ve called them in the middle of the night,” Bush said. “I’ve gone to their houses and they’ve come to mine. That’s how we reach out.”

Weis credited his comrades with keeping him on track, too.

“The group really saved my life a few times,” he said. “It’s a camaraderie.”

Contact this reporter at (937) 225-2363 or bbarber@DaytonDaily News.com.