Today I played harp for someone on hospice who had a hideous and gnarly job after the sinking of the Indianapolis in 1945. I didn’t ask him about it; I only know what I know from the social worker who made the referral. This gentleman is depressed and very contained. He’s had trauma, I was told. Well, indeed yes! I had not heard of the sinking of the Indianapolis so I just researched it. Oh my! She was carrying parts and the enriched uranium (about half of the world’s supply of Uranium-235 at the time) for the atomic bomb Little Boy, which would later be dropped on Hiroshima. She was gunned down by a Japanese submarine and sank in 12 minutes. It’s the single largest loss of life from the loss of a single ship in the US Navy’s history. Wikipedia states: Of 1,196 crewmen aboard, approximately 300 went down with the ship. The remaining 900 faced exposure, dehydration, saltwater poisoning, and shark attacks while floating with few lifeboats and almost no food or water. The Navy learned of the sinking when survivors were spotted four days later by the crew of a PV-1 Ventura on routine patrol. Only 317 survived. 
The gentleman for whom I played today was one of those who helped gather the dead bodies from the shark-infested waters after the sinking. How do you do such things and not experience trauma? When man’s inhumanity to man is so intensely horrible, it’s hard to go forward, yet this man did for 72 more years. That means he must be in his 90s. I am sure his Faith has gotten him through. Yet now, a troubled heart of trauma makes his end days sad. I imagine he never received the opportunity to download and process in the way one might now.
And I, a mere harpist, sat there trying to reach to my depths and his, trying to choose music that might touch him. Midway through, I realized that here I am playing for one of our older vets on Veterans’ Day – rather unplanned, except by God, I’m sure. All I could think was…. “Blessings; Peace; Blessings; Peace.”
“Old Rugged Cross” brought distinct fond reminiscences to him, as I hoped it would, and his gruff voice tried to sound some of the chorus from “In the Garden.” “Edelweiss” brought him a touch of warm sentiment, and before you knew it I was through. I felt that I should have stayed all evening to play for such a one. I promised to come back – he said, “Any time.” I left with my fervent prayer for him until we meet again: Peace.