What Inspired My Battle Buddy App

"What if there was a way to really help veterans that did not require any money to cross hands? There are so many organizations that help veterans but at what cost? Is it 100% non-profit or does a CEO somewhere get to line their pockets with seven figures? Believe it or not, this is very common. To consider yourself a charitable 501, only a small percentage of funds have to actually go to the organization."

Hi, my name is Chirs Walls, and I have PTSD because I am a serving Iraq War Veteran. I would like to start by sharing with you a couple of chapters from my book: (Skip to the bottom if you only want to hear about the App)

After 9'11 I was burdened with a heavy heart, I could not sleep well at night knowing that our country, some people friends, and family were taken too soon! The next day after it happened a fire lit inside me and at that moment I decided to join the military to go fight the war on terrorism. Before my decision was fully sunk in I was through MEPS on my way to be a fast track to the front lines. Basic training and AIT job training times were reduced to half so none of the new guys were properly trained.

While in the holding area before basic training, I went to the bathroom like any other bathroom break, you get in, take care of business and then move out. I heard a whimper in the stall next to me that sounded like someone quietly crying. I then listened to a disturbing clump sound and saw the kid in the next stall fall to the floor, and blood started spreading across the floor. What the F'''! I called for help, and a Sargent came running in and kicked the bathroom stall open. The young Asian American kid had crammed a #2 pencil up his nose.?

Killing himself almost instantly. He used the pencil to write his parents a note and then offed himself, right next to me. The letter was to his parents stating that he told them that he did not want to join the military, but they forced him to. Joining the military in some Asian families is mandatory. The military Sargent asked me if I was okay and asked if I needed to talk to someone, I mistakenly said no, Sir, realizing that he was a Sargent. Sorry I said, I mean Sargent. The Sargent looked at me and said, son, don't apologize.

After the incident, they made me talk to someone anyways. When talking to the Doctor, he asked me many questions and eventually told me that I could go back home. You would get an honorable discharge, of course, he said. No sir, I replied I better get used to this kind of stuff if I'm going to be a Dogface soldier and fight this war on terrorism. He commended me and sent me back to my unit.

Chapter 11 War

March 1 20,2003 through April 15,2004

January 2, 29,2005 through January 15, 2006

The sight of lights in the sky cast from overhead flying patriot missiles could only mean one thing. It had begun! The 2003 Invasion of Iraq (March 19 – May 1, 2003) was the start of the conflict known as the Iraq War" OIF." The order was sent down from the higher-ups that it was time to push forward across the Kuwaiti and Iraq border. I remember getting a kick of adrenalin followed by a stomach-dropping dose of fear. I was a part of the 123rd Signal battalion with the 3rd ID infantry division, supporting the 1st brigade TOC.

From here we would continue through the desert surrounded by darkness. Only being able to use NVG (night vision goggles) to guide us through the desert night instead of our vehicular headlights. Trucks were getting stuck in the sand right and left and all I could hear was explosions and gunfire off in the distance. Talk about heart-pounding, not knowing if you are going to get stuck in the sand or caught in an ambush or both. It was late night or early morning for those of us who were unable to sleep. As one could imagine, this simply intensified the feelings that most of us felt. It seemed like mass confusion driving off into the darkness, not knowing what was to come.?

Left and right trucks were getting stalled out in the deep desert sands. "Keep moving; we are told they will be picked up by the rear." A halt was ordered when shots were fired at our convoy. A few minutes in, we realized we were being ambushed. Our commander called over the coms for support and within minutes a Bradley came charging down the street. This Beast was sawing down anything that posed a threat. If you don't know what a Bradley is, it's a tank with a 50-cal turret mounted to the top. After a half-hour passed, we were given the all-clear. The convoy continued to move on!

After driving all night exhausted, I remember feeling exhausted, the sun rose to shed light on some of the previous night's devastation. Deprived of sleep and unable to eat due to the smells and sight of death and destruction. I then realized that the fear had passed, and I was in a zombie-like state.?An order came over the radio that women and children were to be considered threats. The ruling stated that Iraqi women and children were approaching our convoys, claiming to be hungry, and were said to be strapped with bombs on their chests. We were told to use our better judgment on assessing the situation. This became a big problem because there were hundreds of women and children approaching our convoy as the sun came over the horizon.

Pointing are weapons and yelling Kiff, or stop, in our language. Most of the civilians stopped and walked away. One kid ignored all orders and kept charging toward my truck, carrying what looked like an M.R.E. package. I could not put it past me to shoot a kid, so I used the butt of my weapon to shoo him away, accidentally butt stroking him in the face and knocking him down the embankment. I felt horrible at the time but was given a sense of relief when I saw the kid jump up and run. Night two was upon us, and still no lights to guide us, relying on M.B.G.s as we drove through the narrow streets of unknown cities.

The buildings were so close that one could reach out and touch them while driving. The same vision kept going through my head, what did someone set off an I.E.D. or start taking shots at us as we were passing through. At this point, my body became so deprived of food and sleep that it caused me to slip into a state of delusion.?At this point, one does not feel like oneself anymore, emotions slip away, and all that is left is anger.?"Anger for the lives that have been lost at war and the terrorist that supposedly caused it all."

Chapter 12, DAY UNKNOWN,

I HAD NOT SLEPT IN DAYS

??????????????The convoy splits up, and our unit is directed to keep heading north to rally point with another convoy. A few hours after we departed the convoy, our commander made the call to move forward through a small town. I knew something was a little off when I saw Marine choppers hovering over the city. Despite the apparent threat, the commander still orders to push forward. Halfway through the town, the heat was obviously too bad, so the commander finally ordered everyone to turn around. With gunfire and explosions around us, we finely made it back out of the city to safety and were given an alternate route.

Another halt was called, and enemy forces were spotted heading in our direction. A few moments later, incoming artillery hit a little too close for comfort, shaking the ground and covering the convoy in the dust. Before the call came over the radio, I had climbed over a sand burn to take a #2. As soon as I got comfortable enough, I started taking care of business. About halfway through, shit hit the fan, literally. I jumped up, scrambling, trying to get back over the burn. When the dust and smoke cleared, we noticed the several enemy vehicles were the actual targets and not us, still way too close for comfort. With all of the commotion, I did not even realize that I caught a small metal fragment in my right hand.

I remember someone telling me I should report it jokingly, that it would get me a medal. Ha, I said I don't ever want to be reminded of this, jumping over a sand dune with my pants around my ankles before I was even able to wipe my 4th point of contact. It started to get dark again, and we were passing through another small town. I was exhausted and was struggling to keep my eyes open. I drifted slightly off the road and hit a little bump. An eerie feeling rushed over me; whatever I had run over made a popping sound like a watermelon being dropped off of a building. I saw what appeared to be a burned body hanging out of a blown-up car in the rearview mirror. I had just run over a dead man's skull, I thought. To this day, the sound lingers in the back of my mind. To hear a similar sound instantly makes me nauseous.

Chapter 13, Bagdad International Airport

????We arrived at the Bagdad international airport, supporting the first brigade T.O.C. After setting up coms, several teams were tasked to secure the perimeter. While securing a building, a shot was fired, coming what seemed to be inches from my head, leaving a ringing sensation in my ear. Immediately I dropped to the ground. After my heart slowed down, S.P.C. Burgess and I began to look around to see where the shot was fired from. On a roof approximately two blocks away, we saw an American sniper posted up scanning the same field, I am assuming looking for the same insurgent as we were. The sniper signaled for us to retreat indoors and take cover, so we did. Another shot was fired shortly after, and we were given the all-clear. My next volunteer clearing operation ended in tragedy.

As I entered what I thought to be an empty room with 1st brigade T.O.C. members, the room was all clear, so we started to move out. These guys were all gung-ho, so I followed up the rear, I was a bit of a sham artist, and I really did not have the urge to kill anyone. As soon as I turned the corner, I heard something fall back in the room we had just cleared. When turning the corner, an insurgent was hopping down from a ladder leading up to the drop ceiling. He turned and pointed his weapon in my direction; without hesitation, I fired, striking him in the face. It was one of the most disgusting things that I have ever seen in my life. Everything was moving in slow motion, and the rest of the team moved in for support. I could clearly see that they were talking, but I could not hear anything but a muffle. I guess my brain was trying to piece together what had just happened.

It felt just like what you see in the movies when someone gets flash-banged. I was not wearing earplugs because I thought it would hinder my hearing and increase someone's chances of sneaking up on me. I remember the Sargent in charge saying nice shot like I was in some kind of competition. The Sargent then ordered us to keep moving forward as nothing had happened. The clean-up crew will take care of it, he said as he moved back into the hallway.

In the airport terminal area, there was a loud noise coming from the distance. The sound kept getting closer and closer until it was right above us. An armored-out truck with a fifty Cal mounted to it came bouncing down the airport terminal stairs. I think this scared the crap out of everyone. It happens to be a special forces team that had heard the shot fired coming to investigate. They apparently thought it was hilarious that they startled us so severely. Keep in mind the Special Forces are allowed to dress in civilian gear to fit in with the locals, so they are lucky no one opened fire.

After that, I did not volunteer for any more clearing opt's again. I never talked to anyone in my platoon about the incident and how I felt. Having to see these people every day, I did not want to be labeled as weak. I just figured that everyone eventually would have pulled the trigger, so I did not want to be the only person crying about how it made me feel inside.?The image of another man's brain being splattered across the room kept replaying in my head. When I made it back to my unit, I took over my shift with the coms equipment. I notice that some of the first brigade guys were driving around in civilian vehicles.

I had convinced my Sargent that we should get one as a support vehicle. All of our equipment was mounted to our trucks, so we were stuck without vehicles once we set up COMS. As long as I helped set up the larger mass, I was free to go find one. Once work was completed, I set out with a battle buddy to locate a vehicle. I found a new van that had an A.C. unit mounted to the top of it. This will be perfect; I thought I can take the seats out of the back and sleep inside. I hotwired the van and drove it back to our post. I did not think about it at first, but I notice that other soldiers were breaking down from running out of gas because no one had access to unleaded gas.

On my clearing op, I noticed a gas station near one of the hangers, so I went to investigate. At the station, the power was out, so none of the pumps were working. I then saw a man whole and found inside that the fuel station's insertion ports were unlocked. I remembered that inside one of the maintenance shops near our post, a handheld pump was lying on one of the workbenches. I headed back over to the maintenance building, recovered the pump, and then went back to the station. The pump worked great, and I now had access to plenty of unleaded fuel. While everyone else enjoyed their sauna tents, I lived it up in the A.C. (Sorry, battles reading this, lol).

I took the seats out and found a leather couch in one of the warehouses. I was determined to make myself at home. The next thing we knew, the 1st brigade was ordered to move out, leaving our V3 communication team stranded at the airport. "Ten common guys with no other support are we being used as bait? I remember asking myself."?We were left there for about a week before more support rolled in. Our next order came over the radio, informing us that we were to ride out with the next convoy to catch up with the rest of the unit.

We met up with our team just south of Bagdad and were directed to move forward to the "F.O.B. where First Brigade T.O.C. had set up their operations. Supporting them is where we remained until we received orders to go home. The danger continued every day; all around us were insurgents taking pop shots, setting off I.E.D.s and mortars regularly at and around our compound. I tried not to get too close to anyone else simply because I did not want to deal with losing any friends. After a year in Iraq, it was time to finally go home.

The My Battle Buddy APP

After suffering for 15 years I was able to finally overcome the control my PTSD had on me. This inspired me to want to share my story and help my fellow battles that were still struggling or spiraling out of control. God knows I have been to the darkest moments where I drowned myself in alcohol and marijuana just so I did not have to feel anything. I designed a blueprint for an app for Veterans Called My Battle Buddy. I would to find some kind of funding for it. It will create a social profile for veterans and give them a real-time option to get help.

It would be founded as a charity allowing Doctors, psychiatrists, and students to use recorded time as hourly wages for tax write-offs or volunteer credits for students. Just imagine all the time people spend on their phones. A doctor or psychiatrist in between shifts, logs into the app to see a request for medical or psychological assistance. They have an option to invite a student online seeking credits and start a video call. In this scenario, the psychiatrist and student join a video call with the stressed veteran.

They calm down from the edge and encourage that the veteran is important and loved. On top of this other veterans can join to help their fellow brothers in arms by confiding in one another. This could save thousands of lives! I have picked it for a few people but everyone seems to have their own agenda. I would really like to get it funded by the VA. I have personally had to call the VA hotline and they are terrible. To tell you how bad the experience was, I was put on hold for 45 minutes and then allowed to talk with an inexperienced person. It's a good thing I was not suicidal, just having a panic attack.

This is just an Idea, help me make it a reality. If you want to help call me and let me know in the comments. Or stage someone that you think could help.