Collateral Damage: Stress Disorder Adds to Human Toll of War
by Julie Jarema,
Columbia Free Times
February 13th, 2008
Serving
in Iraq for a brief time at the notorious Abu Ghraib prison outside
Baghdad, Bill Orr knows firsthand the stresses of combat.
“Our
first night there, we got mortared,” says Orr, an active-duty member of
the Army National Guard. “We were bombed. We were staying in the prison
itself for protection, because it’s concrete with steel reinforcement.
I can’t actually say who it was, but it was people that did not want us
there. It may have been terrorists from another country, it may have
been the Sunnis who did not want the government to come up because it
kicked them, but I can tell you they did not want us there.”
As
stressful as any combat situation is, when you don’t know who the enemy
is — or where they might show up — the anxiety is magnified.
“Even
the Iraqis that were working with may turn on you,” Orr says. “We had
Iraqi police inside the prison that we were training. One brought in a
pistol and gave it to one of the prisoners because it was his
brother-in-law, and he wound up shooting an MP right there.”
There are 26.5 million veterans in the
United States, according to the most recent Census. In South Carolina
alone, there are 420,971 veterans — almost 10 percent of the state’s
population. Among that group are thousands who have experienced trauma
that most civilians will never see. Dealing with that trauma is
something that both veterans and civilians will be grappling with for
decades.
“I’m able to cope better than ever,” Orr says of his battle with
post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). “I haven’t had a drink in
three-and-a-half years. I’ve gotten closer with my two children. I’ve
learned to do things I used to like doing. Counseling has helped, a
12-step program, and finding a God that allows me to find peace in
myself. [But] every once in a while, I still have the nightmares.”
As
of Feb. 6, the death toll among American forces in Iraq was 3,949,
according to The Associated Press. Many of the soldiers who are lucky
enough to get home suffer tremendously with severe depression and PTSD
more so than any other war, including Vietnam. The collateral damage of
the war in Iraq isn’t just the number of civilians killed in Iraq, but
also the quality of life American soldiers and their families have as
civilians once they return from the war.
Orr, along with many
soldiers returning from Iraq and Afghanistan, suffers from mental
distress, mostly PTSD. Estimates vary as to how many soldiers have
PTSD, but several studies put the figure between 17 and 25 percent.
“Real
heroes don’t talk about it,” says Vietnam veteran Walt Musan about PTSD
at a Jan. 29 meeting of the South Carolina Disabled Combat Veterans
Group. He has PTSD, too. “If you are a career soldier, that is the end
of your career if you let someone know that you have PTSD. So most
people keep it secret.”
PTSD wasn’t even diagnosed as a
psychiatric illness until 1980, at the urging of Vietnam vets. Known by
many names — such as “shell shock” during World War II and “combat
fatigue” in Vietnam — PTSD is a relatively new name for an old
condition among soldiers.
Rachel Rossman, director of mental health at the Dorn VA Hospital
in Columbia, says causes of PTSD include being in life-threatening
situations or having a brush with death. Symptoms include hyper-arousal
or being not able to relax; sweating, shaking and not being able to
concentrate; re-experiencing situations in a flashback or
hallucination; sleep disturbance; and avoidance symptoms such as
staying away from people or feeling numb.
“PTSD is just freezing
yourself in a moment,” Orr says. “You have one moment that stays and
you keep reliving up to that moment. The biggest thing to get over PTSD
or get help with that is to realize the moment is gone. You’ve lived
through it.”
With this war — much of which is being fought in
highly stressful urban environments — the military and VA hospital
system are learning more and more about how to diagnose and treat PTSD.
They’re also learning how expensive PTSD is to treat long-term — and
some veterans say that has led to dangerous shortcuts.
Every war
has its traumas and its casualties — not just the dead, but also among
the living. South Carolina alone had 1,581 casualties, including dead
and wounded soldiers, in World War II. Nationally, 58,193 soldiers were
killed in Vietnam.
The Iraq war is different: There have been
fewer deaths than in World War II and Vietnam, but higher rates of
trauma and suicide among soldiers, according to the Washington Post. As
many as 121 Army soldiers committed suicide in 2007, a jump of 20
percent from the year before, the Associated Press reported Feb. 1. In
addition, The New York Times has reported on an increase in crimes
being committed by soldiers with PTSD.
Veterans say the
problems stem from the trauma they experience in combat, especially
going door-to-door in urban warfare like in Iraq, and the great shame
of being considered too weak or lazy to fight if they admit they have
problems.
Walt Musan, a Vietnam veteran in the South Carolina
Disabled Combat Veterans group that meets once a week for breakfast,
says the violence of any war is tough on soldiers. “We’ve seen friends
of ours get blown up in front of our faces,” Musan says.
Veterans
returning from Iraq have had to face not only the after-effects of
battlefield and urban warfare trauma, but also a Veterans’
Administration system poorly funded and poorly equipped to deal with
it. While the VA says care is improving, others say the military is
still doing less than it should for soldiers. And in spite of what
level of care is available, it isn’t always taken advantage of.
“I
believe it is the whole experience [that causes PTSD],” says Lester
Phillips, an Army veteran from World War II, Korea and Vietnam. “Many
things that happened during that time that triggered it, but it was
there after World War II. Maybe I was hiding it. Mainly because people
with PTSD were considered nuts.” Phillips did not get diagnosed with
PTSD until after Vietnam. “In Vietnam, birds were eating out of the
heads [that were blown apart], picking at the bodies. It’s very
stressful when you think about it later.”
However, although
there are traumatic experiences of war for any soldier, they differ
from one war to another in terms of political support at home and
combat conditions. In World War II, American soldiers were considered
liberators of Hitler’s dictatorship and hailed as heroes when they
returned. Not the same story in Vietnam, a war much of the American
public was against. And although many Americans support the troops
today, many Americans feel the Iraq war was started under false
pretenses. And with a high level of urban warfare, where there is no
frontline or safe base, combat conditions are taking a high toll.
“We’re not fighting a country,” Orr says. “There is no safe place.”
Lanette
Atkins, a psychiatrist at Columbia Area Mental Health who does contract
work for the VA doing disability evaluations, agrees. “The rate of PTSD
is higher with this war because they go back and have repeated tours of
duty. There’s no real safe area in Iraq, unlike other wars where there
were base camps or frontlines. In Iraq, you’re never safe from roadside
bombs, suicide bombs, incoming mortars. They don’t get rest and
relaxation like they did in Vietnam. There’s no place that’s safe in
the country. Terrorists don’t recognize the army. There’s not a group
of people you’re fighting against; it’s not the same as in Vietnam.
Kids with bombs were relatively uncommon.”
Wade Fulmer, an Army Vietnam vet who serves on the veterans’ care
committee for Military Families Speak Out, says returning soldiers are
in dire need of follow-up aftercare. “The VA is short of people.
Because of multiple deployments within a five-year period, there is no
time to readjust. By the time a family understands what is going on,
it’s time to go back. The spouses and the children suffer anxiety and
depression with the stresses they’re under because their loved one is
in a war. They have to wonder, ‘What’s he going to be like when he gets
back? What can we do to get help?’”
Fulmer says percentage-wise
and numbers-wise, there are more cases of PTSD in the Iraq war than any
other war in the country’s history. He is also quick to charge that
with the high rates of PTSD has come an effort on the part of the
government to treat PTSD on the cheap. Fulmer says the government has
been diagnosing some soldiers with personality disorders instead of
PTSD so it can dishonorably discharge them and avoid responsibility for
their disability insurance. He also says soldiers not getting the
prompt follow-up care they need are contributing to the high rate of
suicides.
In an April 2007 article in The Nation, Joshua Kors
looked into claims similar to Fulmer’s regarding the diagnosis of
personality disorder: “A six-month investigation has uncovered multiple
cases in which soldiers wounded in Iraq are suspiciously diagnosed as
having a personality disorder, then prevented from collecting
benefits,” Kors wrote.
According to ABC News, the Defense
Department discharged more than 22,000 soldiers under a personality
disorder diagnosis between 2001 and 2007.
The military maintains the discharges are warranted and necessary.
“Personality
disorders that interfere with military service and are incompatible
with the soldier staying in the unit, it is usually best for both the
soldier and the unit for that soldier to be discharged,” Col. Elspeth
Cameron Ritchie, a psychiatry consultant to the U.S. Army surgeon
general, told ABC.
As opposed to PTSD, Dorn VA Director of
Mental Health Rossman says, “Personality disorder is lifelong — there’s
no medication. The symptoms are so disruptive that they interfere with
social functioning, inability to get along on the job, self-care. Their
baseline function is very poor long before they get into the military.
Borderline personality disorder — they cut themselves, drive
recklessly, threaten to kill themselves on a regular basis. They are
people who have been in an alternative academy, Department of Juvenile
Justice, never been able to adapt.”
Many veterans disagree. “I
think that’s a cop-out on the part of the military because they don’t
want to acknowledge PTSD and have to pay benefits for the rest of their
lives,” Musan says. “Rather than acknowledging this guy’s had three
tours of combat.”
“They’re misdiagnosing them,” says Raymond
Ortiz, a Marine veteran from Vietnam. “Personality disorder is just
describing PTSD — it’s like saying ‘I’m a garbage man’ versus saying
‘I’m a sanitary engineer.’”
Atkins has a different story to
tell. “There’s definitely not enough resources,” she says. “It’s gotten
where everything is based on numbers. It’s more of a numbers game than
the quality of evaluations and care. I’ve gotten a $25 pay raise since
1999 and there are no other MDs doing psychiatric evaluations at the
Dorn VA. They’re replaced by psychologists. The [disability] pay for
evaluations is based on numbers. I might do an eight- to ten-page
evaluation where they might do two pages. Then they [the veterans with
PTSD] don’t get their disability or a very minimal amount.”
Atkins
also criticizes the VA’s medication recommendations. “They always use
the cheapest meds. Trazadone is a commonly prescribed sleep med — it’s
not a good sleep med, but it’s cheap. It’s other medications, too;
they’re going to use whatever is cheap.”
However, Rossman says conditions are getting better.
“The
funding for VA and mental health has drastically improved,” Rossman
says. “It’s a matter of trying to hire enough people like
psychiatrists, psychologists and social workers.”
Rossman also
says it’s not the VA’s fault when soldiers don’t get treatment: It is
their own pride and fear of a mental illness stigma that keeps them
from seeking help. “People think they’ll be seen as weak,” she says.
“They think, ‘If I just ignore it, it’ll get better with time.’”
Orr admits it wasn’t of his own free will that he got help with PTSD.
“I
got injured over there [in Iraq],” Orr says. “A couple of incidents
that came up, I got injured. So they had me on a med hold out at Fort
Jackson and they were helping me through therapy for my physical
ailments and everything like that. As a matter of fact, when they gave
us the briefing on PTSD, I went off on the psychiatrist because he was
holding me up from seeing my family.”
Orr says he was irritable, angry, depressed, having excessive mood swings and drinking “like a fish.”
“I
was either angry or withdrawn,” Orr says. “There was no in between. The
only time it even seemed that I would let anything off was when I was
at a bar drinking because there was a couple of people who were on med
hold with me that knew where I was at. Nobody else knew.”
Orr
says that only through the urging of an ex-girlfriend did he go into
therapy. “I could be mentally abusive. My commander got me into
counseling at the fort. That’s where I got diagnosed with PTSD. I saw a
psychiatrist and a psychologist. I got diagnosed with PTSD in June of
’04, two months after I got back.”
Willie Fuller, a Marine
veteran who served in Vietnam, says he got help only after he almost
got arrested at his civilian job for assaulting a co-worker. “I was at
the copy machine and the guy walked up behind me and grabbed me,
playing. But, I didn’t realize he was playing and I beat him up pretty
badly. They should have put me in jail, but they didn’t. I knew I
needed to get some help.”
Musan says a lot of people returning
from Vietnam had no idea what PTSD was. “But they began to have
problems with flashbacks and other indications of the illness such as
nightmares,” he says.
Larry Smalls, an Army veteran of Vietnam, says the collateral damage of combat is hard to forget.
“It’s like someone putting a gun to your head and threatening your life 365 days a year,” Smalls says.
Rossman
says war experiences are very difficult to process for soldiers
returning to civilian life. “In order to be safe and not get killed,
you have to suspend any feelings. You have to be so focused and get rid
of any kind of feelings. They have been doing that for months and
months as part of the job. You’re asking people to be tough enough to
go into Fallujah and kill people — the mental mindset is totally
different from sharing feelings. Nobody has a clue what they went
through.”
“Everybody needs to be in a support group and learn
what PTSD is so they can understand it’s treatable,” she says. “A lot
of people think they’re the only one and that they’re going crazy. They
have to understand that they can get help.”
Orr says it was the
constant fear for his life in Iraq and not being able to trust people,
especially the Iraqis — as well as some specific incidents such as a
violent riot — that triggered his PTSD.
“When you have 26
mortars hit your area in one night, they don’t want you there,” Orr
explains of his time at Abu Ghraib. “When it gets to the point when
you’re laying in your cot and you can tell how big that mortar is
that’s hitting your roof and making bets whether it’s going to come
through or not and kill you, you don’t care who’s doing it. When you’re
walking through an open area inside of a prison with walls on it and
somewhere in an apartment complex that is taller than you, they start
sniping at you. You’re walking along all of the sudden the sand starts
kicking up and you hear zings, you don’t care who’s doing it.”
Orr
says PTSD affected him in Iraq, but he just lived with it and turned it
into a joke. “It gets so bad that it doesn’t bother you anymore, you
get numb,” he says. “I would lay in my bunk when mortars started coming
in wondering if one was going to come through and blow me apart and I
wasn’t afraid … actually, over there, it was a joke between me and my
roommate because I’d woke up in the middle of the night one night
screaming they’re coming down the hall and he jumped up, grabbed his
M-16 and opened the door and there was nothing there. He saw me sitting
up, screaming. He said, ‘You son of a bitch!’ People think it’s a
weakness or you’re trying to get out of something.”
Orr and the
other veterans interviewed for this article have all gotten help for
PTSD, and they know well that the symptoms and nightmares are no
laughing matter. But as the war in Iraq drags on to the five-year mark
in March, there will be no shortage of soldiers returning with similar
problems. Add in an economic downturn that will only put a tighter
squeeze on employment opportunities for returning veterans and the need
for treatment only increases. But because some symptoms of PTSD don’t
manifest themselves until months after soldiers return from abroad
— and many soldiers don’t seek help despite an initial briefing they
get on PTSD when they return — it’s clear that many cases will go
untreated, perhaps until a crisis brings attention to a soldier’s
condition, which will sometimes be too late.
The Army has found
that failed relationships, legal and financial problems and job stress
are the main factors in soldiers’ suicides — and that stress increases
with time served in Iraq in Afghanistan, according to the AP. Some of
the veterans interviewed for this article know other soldiers who have
taken their own lives or been put in jail because of not getting the
right treatment, care and insurance for PTSD. And for those soldiers
who have survived both combat and PTSD — they don’t deserve to be
called crazy, they deserve a medal of honor because they are, indeed,
real heroes.