Update

I thought I'd make a post so anyone who is still interested will know I am still alive and kicking.  A lot has happened since my last post and I'm sure I won't be able to do it justice in this single post or even recall it all.  I will share a very emotional experience that I had a couple months ago.  As you know from my posts, I have a service dog.  That dog was raise in a prison in New York.  Puppies Behind Bars, the organization that sponsored the dog, flew my wife, Pax (my dog), and I to NY to meet the woman that raise my dog.  We went into the Prison and spent the day.  I was in uniform at the request of Puppies Behind Bars and the entire thing was filmed by a crew hired by Glenn Close.  The evening before, I attended a Cocktail with my wife and Glenn.  Glenn is such a wonderfully genuine woman.  She made me feel very comfortable, as though I knew her for years.  After going to the prison, Glenn took us to her house for a brief visit.  The whole visit in NY was a whirlwind 2 and a half days but it was one of the most memorable experiences of my life.  Glenn is currently producing a 30 minute video of the visit which she will post online.  I'll post the link once I have it.  Sorry for the rambling Post.  Have a nice day. :)

Screwed Again

I am fearful that my stories may come across as whining. It is, after all, the eternal song of the enlisted man to complain about their plight. My hope is that I have advanced enough in years to know the difference between complaining for complaint's sake, and critically examining events without judgement. Once again, I will tell a tale which I should have every right to complain about. The fact is, I've already done my share of complaining about this situation. I re-tell the story here to educate others on how returning National Guard soldiers may be treated, as well as to document the event for my own benefit.

As I have previously said, I re-enlisted for one year knowing I would be Stop-Lossed while in Iraq. In total, I served nearly two years. As a result, when I returned my contract with the military had expired. When I was released from active duty, I was re-assigned to the National Guard. The National Guard in-turn scheduled our first weekend drill for two months after returning home. As ordered, I reported for duty two months later. At this drill we were given a series of briefings that were designed to help us transition back to civilian life. I was also given another psychological evaluation. I was ordered to attend the drill the following month. It was more of the same. We sat through a lot of briefings but did little else. We couldn't really do a lot more since we left most of our equipment in Iraq for troops that replaced us. The weapons we brought back with us were taken from us and were being completely refurbished.

On the second day of the drill, I was told that since my enlistment expired in Iraq, they said they may not be able to pay me for the up-coming drill. Since there was an important briefing being given by the Commander, I decided to attend knowing I may not get paid. As it turned out, I didn't. In fact, it was at this drill that I was told that I had been honorably discharged. I stayed the remainder of the day but that was my last day with the National Guard.

About 6 months later I received a letter from the Department of Defense. The letter indicated that I had been overpaid by almost $400.00, the amount paid to me in the two drills after returning from Iraq. The DOD was demanding to be repaid. I contacted my National Guard Unit and told them about the letter. The Sergeant in charge of dealing with the pay problems of soldiers told me he would look into it. After a few days he tells me that the orders that released me from the National Guard had been back-dated to the date I was released from active duty. As a result of the change, the two drills I had attended, and was paid for, occurred after I had been released from the military. The Sergeant told me he would take care of it and not to pay anything. It was a stupid thing, but I believed that it would be taken care of and totally forgot about it. Another 3 months later I received another letter. This time, the DOD was threatening more severe action. I contacted my unit again only to find out that the Sergeant I spoke to previously had transferred. I was again told it would be taken care of and not to pay. This time, however, I decided to pay and hope I could recover the money if it was resolved.

I thought the issue was taken care of and I would never hear of it again. Wrong.

Another 6 months pass and my divorce is finalized, thank god. I go re-finance my house to payoff my 'X.' In the process of refinance, I'm asked, "What is this 'Serious Delinquency' with the Department of Defence?" The Army had reported me to the collection agencies for not paying them back. It is the only negative thing affecting my credit score. Unfortunately, it just so happens that serious delinquincies are one of those things that severely reduces your credit score. I had to write a letter explaining the situation in order to re-finance. It continues to cause me problems today. Who would have thought that the military would affect a soldier is such a way?

Looking Within

This whole event really pisses me off when I think of it. Even though I do think the Army screwed me regarding the back-dating of my release date, I view that problem of the 'Serious Delinquency' as primarily my falt. It is my credit score. I should have been a little more proactive. On the other hand, I can't help but think about all the problems I was having at the time. I was in and out of the hospital, dealing with presribed drug issues, working through problems at work, and dealing with a seperation leading to divorce. I don't think I really cared that much about my credit score back then.

Question

I have a secret. If you will, I would like your advice. I know I have sought your advice before; that's the cool thing about blogging. You build a relationship with people, far and wide. Here is my current issue. I know a veteran that is being treated within the VA system that, in my opinion, has been severely mistreated. I would like to tell his story, and I in fact have his permission, but don't know how to do so without the possibility of implicating the players. Implication of those involved is something that the veteran involved absolutely does not want exposed. In my opinion, most would say that this issue should not be concealed in the interest of protecting the well being of other veterans. Nonetheless, I am compelled to preserve that confidentiality of the veteran. The question is, should I take the risk and tell his story even though the identity of those involved may be exposed?

I have already written the text describing what happened between the veteran and the VA employee. I made every effort to conceal identity while preserving the integrity of events. Nonetheless, there may be someone with VA who can identify the VA employee or veteran based on what I have written, unbeknownst to me.

I think think this is a severe violation on the part of the VA employee. What do you think? Should I post my text knowing it may lead to severe consequences for some involved?

Looking Within
I've been thinking about this for many months. It is something that is somewhat anxiety producing. All I want is to table it, of forget it. Actually, I don't know if I can forget it.

Post or Not to Post, That is the Queston.

Busy Stuff

I've been a little out of touch lately. It seems like a lot has been going on. I'm not sure if I mentioned it but I had a New York Times videographer at my house. This has started a sort of media frenzy that don't think is over yet. NBC with Brian Williams did an article using the NYT video. Then Glenn Close, the actress, asked me to participate in a project she is involved in regarding dogs. She is a big dog lover and works to raise money for dog related charities. She heard about me and my service dog Pax and wanted me to participate in order to raise money for 'Dog Tags.' Dog Tags is the program that provided me with a service dog and will provide a dog to any Iraqi Freedom or Afghanistan Vet suffering from PTSD or TBI so long as they meet a few small requirements.

The other thing that has been going on relates to the woman who raised my service dog. She is an inmate in a New York correctional facility. She is serving 25 to life for the murder of her husband. When the NYTs video came out, she was featured in it, just as I was. After seeing her in the video I became very curious about her and looked her up online. As it turns out, she was abused by her husband for years and the circumstances around the murder call into question her guilt. No one disputes that she did not shoot her husband. The question is, did she hire the teenager that did shoot him. There are many websites that advocate her release, or at least a new trial. Most view her as a victim of domestic abuse. It was such a compelling story there was even a movie made about her and the events leading up to the murder. As it turns out, this is the woman that raised my service dog. I have come to feel a connection with this woman. I feel we have shared the experience of abuse and have been linked by a service dog. Not only that, she has also been diagnosed with PTSD from her abuse. How unlikely is it that a woman in New York and a man in Washington would ever be brought together is such a way. I think it is amazing. I wrote her a letter. All she knew about me is I was a veteran with PTSD. I wanted her to know a little about me and how I saw similarities in our past. Really, the only difference is she made a mistake. It was nothing but random chance that I wasn't in a similar position. I've been told many times by psychologists that they are amazed that I turned out fairly normal. If anyone had a reason to loose a sense of reality, to the point of committing some kind of terrible crime, it was me. I don't know how I made it this far.

The charity that provided my service dog is going to fly me to New York in September. They are going to arrange for me to get into the prison to meet, not just the woman that raised Pax, but all the women that are involved in raising service dogs. They're also going to arrange a meeting with Glenn Close. I've already been asked if I would mind it terribly if Brian Williams interviewed me when I came to New York.

There's been more going on, of course, but this stuff has tended to muffle a lot of other things.

Looking Within
For the most part I have felt ok with this new media activity. I have really enjoyed working with Glenn Close. She is very nice. I hope it does work out that I get to meet her in the fall. I've had mixed feelings about the woman who raised my dog. Generally, I've felt really good about it but it has also brought up some issues associated with my childhood. That makes me feel uneasy. I have felt more depressed lately, I think because of my childhood.

PTSD

PTSD is one of those things that can really mess with you. I suppose that is kind of a ridiculous statement but it's true. I take a fair amount of medications to address problems associated with it so a lot of the time it's in check. But, you never know. A sound, a smell, a situation, can create within me a whirlwind of issues. All of a sudden, in the midst of relative calm, I'll start having hallucinations. I'll become very sensitive to a sudden sound or movement. At night I'll have nightmares. I won't always know what triggered my response. Sometimes I can figure it out, but not always. It's sometimes hard living with those ups and downs.

TBI exacerbates the problem. It is a source of tremendous depression for me. Unlike PTSD, it is always with me, I never get a break. There are never highs and lows. I do the best I can with lists, voice recorders, etc, but it's frustrating and painful on a daily basis. Every time I forget where I am going, drive past an exit, leave home without my wallet, etc., seeming small things, but cumulatively, with such frequency, it hurts. I was never this way before. I do it every day, many times a day.

Lately, I have had significant problems in both these areas. I don't know why. Maybe it's the stress of my wife being out of town. With her gone, I really don't eat much. Not because I can't cook or because I'm lazy, but because I don't have a hunger response. For some reason, I just don't get hungry. I get thirsty, just not hungry. I've lost 11 pounds in the past month while she's been away. I only weight 159 pounds at six feet tall. I don't have a hell of a lot to loose. I've always wondered if my lack of a hunger response was a skill I developed when I was a child. My parents used to feed us 5 kids quite well for the first 10 days of the month until my dad's paycheck ran out. The rest of the month we ate Mac and Cheese and foraged for what food we could find. We were always hungry.

My problems with PTSD are kind of bothersome. I remember when I was working how my symptoms affected me when around others in a social environment. I know in my heart that I would be the same way if I were ever to find myself in a similar situation. I could not deal with the people, not for even one day.

I have in front of the most recent copy of the VFW magazine, June/July,2008. In it there is a small article that refers to a RAND study that looked at 2,000 Iraq and Afghanistan veterans who survived bomb blasts. The study estimates that 300,000 of the 1.6 million troops who had been deployed to the two war zones suffer from PTSD or depression, about one in five. The study also estimates that 320,000, or 19%, may have suffered mild to severe head injuries. Currently, VA is treating only about 120,000 Iraq and Afghanistan veterans for PTSD. There is likely a large number of undiagnosed, and untreated veterans walking our streets.

I obviously have my problems. Can you imagine the magnitude of the real problem? Not just now, but what about by the end of the war? I was deployed once. What about these guys that have been deployed multiple times? I know it would be difficult for me to endure the experience I had again.

Update:

If you are interested in the RAND study I mentioned above, it can be found, free of charge, by following this link to rand.org. If you are interested in purchasing bound copy of the study, and I don't know why you would if you can get it for free, you can get it here.

Looking Within

This was depressing to write. Whenever I think about my memory problems, I get depressed.

The Hated

I had what most would consider an incompetent, annoying, ass of a supervisor in Iraq. He was an E-6, Staff Sergeant, a weaselly little bastard. Since he loved the sound of his voice so much, he assumed everyone loved it. The guy would never shut up. He also thought he was gods gift to the Army. The outfit couldn't possibly function without him. If it weren't for him, the FOB would be over-run by insurgents and we'd all be on TV getting our heads cut off. He was a real piece of work.

My supervisor was NCOIC during the day shift. I typically would relieve him at 1800. He liked the day shift because there wasn't a lot that really happened during the day and he got to hop-nob with all the staff. He was a big socializer. Just before 1800 he would brief me on anything that was going on that concerned me. Frequently, there would be Bolo vehicles that both myself and tower guards needed to keep an eye out for. Bolo vehicles were cars or trucks that had been spotted earlier that day. They either looked strange or were engaging in some kind of suspicious activity. I would be given a description of the vehicle, license plate, description of the driver and passengers, whatever information was available. I passed the information on to guards as they were posted throughout the night.

On one particular afternoon I was briefed as usual and went on duty. About an hour later, about 1900, I was called back to the area where my hooch was located. When I got there my platoon leader was waiting for me. He begins to tear me a new ass hole. He's yelling and screaming, I don't know about what. Finally, I figure out that a General had come through his area to look the place over. If you know anything about the military, you'd know that when a General goes anywhere, everybody else wants to know. Nobody wants a General just walking in the door and surprising you. This particular General belonged to the 3rd Infantry Division and was visiting the FOB as part of an inspection tour prior to the 3rd IDs occupation of the FOB in the coming months. He General and a Full Bird Cornel had just walked in on my Lieutenant. Not a good thing.

The Lieutenant continued his rant. He was insisting that if a General had driven onto the FOB the CP should have been notified immediately. He was right. Even though I had not been notified by the guards at the gate, I knew that I couldn't use that argument. I was ultimately responsible for the guards. If they failed to notify me, I failed to train them properly. After being beaten about the brow for a little longer, I went to the front gate to instruct them to notify me the next time an important person like the General enters the FOB. When I got to the gate, I asked the guards what time the General had come through. They said he came through the gate at about 1730. I said, "What?" The General had not even come through the gate on my shift. He came through on my supervisor's shift. I hoped in my Hum-V and headed back over to my hooch. When I got there my supervisor was there waiting. I told him what I learned at the gate. He said,"We can't really be sure exactly what time he came in, can we?" Then he told me that the Lieutenant had directed him to write a letter of reprimand to go in my file. I said, "Bullshit." That's a quote. I was pissed. My supervisor said, "If you stay clean, it will be removed from your file in 3 months." "This is Bullshit," I said "the guy didn't even come in on my shift." If I stay clean? I was never dirty.

People knew that he was an ass. When we were packing to leave, my Lieutenant told me to stay in the hooch area for a baggage inspection. I stayed as directed even though I was on duty at the time. After a few minutes, my supervisor, made a personal assessment of the situation, and decided it would be awhile before the inspectors got to my bags so he sent me off to do a few other things related to my job as NCOIC. About 10 minutes later, the inspectors wanted to look at my bags and I was nowhere to be found. The next thing I know there's all kinds of radio traffic with people trying to track me down. When I get back to the baggage area the LT asked me, in a not-so-nice tone, why I left. I told him my supervisor told me to leave. It was his turn to get an ass chewing. But this time, it was very public. I think the LT purposefully made it public to take him down a notch or two.

Looking Within

This post made me feel upset and bitter. Writing this I am reminded how much I hated my supervisor. How much did I hate him? Let me put it this way. Of all the pictures I took in Iraq, I think I have two with him in it. I can't bare to look at them. I would prefer to look at photographs of the dead rather than look at his face again. My memories are bad enough.

The picture is of a stuffed Elmo that belonged to my son that I brought from home. Out the window of my Hum-V is the Al-Izdehar Palace.

101st Airborne

I've mentioned before that when I arrived in Baghdad I was assigned to 1-161 Infantry Battalion. This Battalion was assigned to the 1st Cavalry Division. It was common for various combat elements to be assigned to others but rare for individuals to be assigned outside their own units. Commanders prefer to keep groups of individuals together. While I was in Baghdad, the 1-161 was re-enforced with a couple of squads from the 101st Airborne for a short time. Their presence made for some interesting times.

The 101st Airborne has a long and broad tradition that stands on its own. There is no question that the 101st is known for producing some of the best hard charging, ground pounding Infantry men ever known. Better yet, they have wings. The men that were assigned to me were on their second tour in Iraq. They had been in Baghdad once before, on the push into the city when it was first taken. They were no different that any one of us though, except in one sense. They felt they owned everything. They would frequently talk about the worthlessness of Iraqis. They spoke about what was their was theirs. If there was something they wanted, they would take it. Spoils of war. The war had changed since they had been there previously, but not for them. It was this kind of talk, not just with the 101st, but with many Americans in Iraq, who influenced my opinions. It becomes ingrained into you.

One night there was a couple of 101st guards manning Tower 10. It is a tower where almost nothing ever happens. You could say it is pretty boring being posted to this tower. These two guards decide to spice up their lives a little bit by throwing pieces of concrete at passing cars. It didn't take long before they hit one in the windshield. They were as happy as could be. The car didn't stop. It just kept going and it was never reported, of course. The next day, guess who shows up at the gate? A senior diplomat with the Iraqi government driving a car with a smashed windshield. Of course the shit hit the fan and we had to track down these guys. It wasn't easy finding them, but once I did, all they could say was they were bored. Nothing happened to them because they were outside our chain of command. The 101st had re-enforced us with a couple squads but had not re-assigned them. Because of this, they remained under the authority of the 101st command structure. We ended up paying the Diplomat, in cash, for the windshield.

Because the men with 101st working as guards for us belonged to the 101st command structure, they returned after duty each day to their own units outside the FOB. We didn't know it, but, when they left each day, they were making observation reports to their commander. The next thing I know, I get a request from the 101st to conduct a raid on a home just off Tower 9. "What the Hell?" Tower 9 is located right next to our command and control building. Immediately to the front of this tower is several homes of some pretty wealthy families, by Iraqi standards. There is also a large generator near the homes that is used to provide power during the many power outages. Apparently, the 101st guards had reported "suspicious" behavior. They had only been on the FOB for about three weeks and didn't have enough experience to know what was normal yet. Our guys who had been up in that tower for months saw nothing out of the ordinary. The only thing that I could think of is they were confused with the activity centered around the generator that would continue throughout the night, even after curfew.

Our commanders, caved to 101st commanders, and said "What the hell, go ahead and raid 'em, what do we care." So the 101st, gathered up about 10 guys and climbed up to the top of the tower. They tossed repelling ropes over the side, and down they went, one at a time. Of course they could have taken a Hum-V, but that wouldn't have been nearly as fun. Once on the ground, they darted across the street and into the courtyard of the house. Lined up on either side of the door, one stood in front of the door and kicked it in. The others rushed in. It wasn't very long and the 101st exited the building. They seemed pretty pleased. They had recovered an AK-47 and a pistol. Of course, everyone in Iraq has weapons of all kinds, including fully automatic AKs. But hey, at least the 101st got a little practise in an beat down that boredom. Nobody had been arrested.

As a military man and a cavalry scout, I wanted to serve with a combat unit that I would be proud to wear their combat patch on my right shoulder. I am very proud to wear that of the 1st Cavalry. I have wonder what a member of the 101st Airborne would feel about wearing a 81st Brigade combat patch. My guess is, they would hate it.

Looking Within

I guess there was two things about this post that come to mind. The first was the concept that we were all the same. The 101st on their second tour, and the 161 Infantry, a National Guard unit, on their first. At that point, we had all been in country way too long and knew what it was like to suffer hardship. We all had the opportunity to see terrible things. It's why when we get home, we become a band of brothers. When your in country, you get no comfort out of it, but once home, it extremely valuable and should be embraced.

The second thing that comes to mind is this notion of status. Back then, it was so important to get the right "patch." Don't get me wrong, I am immensely proud of serving with the 1st Cav. But back then, there were so many guys that went over with the 81st Brigade and came home with an 81st Brigade combat patch and I thought, "That's aweful, I would hate it if that happened to me." And it's true, I would. But that is all about status, and it's silly. But at the same time, if I were wearing an 81st Brigade combat patch, I would have considered myself to of somehow failed.