Locals have come to know and appreciate Scott Stroh, a military veteran and resident of Niverville, for his satirical takes on social media in the guise of Scott Kermit or the Garbage Complainer Guy. For Stroh, making fun of life’s simple things is his way of keeping himself and others smiling.

Meanwhile, every day he is faced with the task of managing his post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) symptoms. Thirteen years out of the military, he says he’s made great strides and hopes to help other sufferers do the same.

This year, for the fourth year in a row, Stroh joined The Rolling Barrage PTSD Foundation in their annual event intended to reduce the stigma of PTSD. As well, the national not-for-profit organization raises money to support programs that assist PTSD sufferers.

The Rolling Barrage’s annual motorcycle event takes riders across the country, from coast to coast, over a 20-day period every July to August. It draws together thousands of Canadian riders in a nation-wide spectacle that attracts thousands and thousands more spectators.

It also provides a way for military veterans and supporters of all stripes to join forces in a common cause. The event helps build friendships and resilience for so many who live with the daily reality of PTSD.

Riders can join in for one leg of the Canadian ride or the “full pull,” beginning in St. John’s, Newfoundland and ending in Aldergrove, British Columbia.

Stroh’s participation has typically been local, although he hopes to join the ride from Manitoba to B.C. for the organization’s tenth anniversary two years from now.

On August 9–10, The Rolling Barrage paraded through Manitoba, with stops in Steinbach and Winnipeg. Much of the parade route was escorted by either a fire brigade or police patrol.

In Steinbach, the group gathered at Big Freight Systems to enjoy a lunch and camaraderie with one of The Rolling Barrage’s big sponsors.

“People that want to be a part of the full pull, but you don’t want to drive all the way to the [east coast starting point], Big Freight has a truck that’s decaled up with the Rolling Barrage [logo] and they will ferry your bike free of charge,” says Stroh.

Another Manitoba pitstop took place at Harley Davidson in Winnipeg, also a sponsor. A Winnipeg police escort guided the motorcycles through the city from there.

“The most exciting thing for us, aside from getting together and raising awareness, is the illegal left turn from Main Street onto Portage,” Stroh muses. “Newfoundland has the cliffs, New Brunswick has that long wooden covered bridge, and B.C. has the mountains. Winnipeg has Portage and Main, and that’s a highlight for us.”

While Stroh is a motorcycle enthusiast, he brings up the rear of the parade in his Ford Bronco, donning his signature car wrap which pays tribute to Canada’s fallen heroes.

“The whole purpose is to create a rolling tribute to those that we’ve lost,” says Stroh. “It doesn’t necessarily have to be in combat, but just through their service.”

It’s a moving visual aid that has given Stroh many an opportunity to connect with other ex-military PTSD sufferers. It provides a means for him to engage in his own personal awareness campaign.

It takes a lot of people to make something like The Rolling Barrage a success and Manitoba motorcycle groups are instrumental in making that happen on a local level.

Stroh recently began his own motorcycle group, called CAN-MB Veterans.

“I’m focusing on Manitoba-based veterans, or anybody that has put on a uniform,” Stroh says. “A firefighter, paramedic, police officer, or military. They are all under that umbrella.”

Addressing the Stigma

One of the ways in which The Rolling Barrage helps erase the stigma of PTSD is by changing the way it’s labelled. They prefer a more suitable moniker: PTSI.

“Instead of calling it a disorder or a disease, we want to recognize it as an operational stress injury,” says Stroh.

He says there’s primarily two reasons for PTSI to occur.

One is due to trauma connected to specific circumstances one has encountered, oftentimes horrific in nature.

The other is the result of being pushed beyond a person’s moral boundaries. He gives the example of someone who is forced to make a life-altering decision which may result in death. This can happen to those working in the military or law enforcement.

Much of the stigma attached to PTSI stems from the fact that mental injuries aren’t visible. Stigma often begins in the workplace itself where PTSD can be suppressed for years in order for a person to keep performing their daily work routine.

Military Start

Stroh joined the Navy reserves as a 17-year-old in 1996. After basic training, he was posted to a Canadian warship.

He was on an international exercise near Scotland in 2001 during the 9/11 attack in Manhattan. His crew, along with many others, went into high alert, preparing for potential attacks in other parts of the world.

Immediately his ship was dispatched to the Persian Gulf.

“It was the beginning stages of what they would refer to as the war against terror,” Stroh says. “It was not a war against a country with a conventional soldier. We were fighting a [new type of] narrative.”

While their position was defensive, providing safe escort for commercial ships and stopping weapons and information smugglers, their presence wasn’t appreciated by certain military groups in the Middle East.

During those years, Stroh operated the weapons systems on board the ship. Eventually he transferred to the intelligence branch of the Navy before moving on to air patrol reconnaissance.

In March 2010, Stroh was deployed to Afghanistan. His role included the use of drones and other unmanned aerial vehicles to watch the everyday comings and goings of locals in order to try and pick out people or circumstances of suspicion.

“You’re [watching for] weapons recognition—the difference between a guy holding a broomstick versus a guy holding a rifle. And from 10,000 feet, they can look identical.”

At the same time, Stroh kept a vigilant eye out for militants dressed as civilians, there to dig explosive devices into the ground along the paths of foreign troops.

Tough decisions occasionally had to be made, he says, when suspicion was high but not necessarily certain.

“That’s where a lot of PTSD comes into play, because you’re witnessing things that you shouldn’t have to witness, on top of the fact that you feel helpless. There were a lot of [successful] operations, but unfortunately a few bad ones outweigh them.”

Stroh began to show signs of PTSD shortly after. He took his military leave in 2013 and was provided medical disability coverage after being diagnosed with the injury.

“I had high levels of anxiety where I couldn’t function, couldn’t think.”

These symptoms were further exacerbated by people or events in everyday situations that took him back to those traumatizing moments of his military past.

Today he works as a sports photographer, which has helped him to hyperfocus and block many triggers. Mindfulness and other psychological techniques are also useful tools.

PTSD, he says, never leaves you. It can be managed, though, with the right tools, including therapy. Eventually you should be living with it more than you are suffering from it.

Thanks to organizations such as The Rolling Barrage, Homes for Heroes, Soldier On, and others, he says that strides are being made year after year.