The Anger of Women Warriors
Kate Dahlstedt
One of the blessings of my life has been the opportunity to meet and sit with veterans, active duty troops, and their family members. I never would have imagined creating an organization to do such things when I was a young woman protesting the war in Vietnam back in the 1960s. But, when the opportunity became apparent in 2006, I found myself passionate and excited.
My husband, Ed Tick, had just published the book, War and the Soul, which, based on our work with veterans, is a groundbreaking look at the true impact of the military on one’s heart and soul. Both psychotherapists in private practice, we were flooded with email and phone calls for help from veterans of all wars, people serving in Afghanistan and Iraq as well as stateside, parents, spouses, siblings, adult children, and other loved ones. It was then that we founded our non-profit organization, Soldier’s Heart, the name used during the Civil War for what is now called post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
Our first war healing retreat in 2007 included mostly veterans from the Vietnam War, and only a few from our recent wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. There were also a few wives who came with their husbands and some interested community members. But there were no female veterans. I was curious about why, but had little ability to be in contact with them. It wasn’t until a few years later, when they began trickling into our war healing retreats and sharing their experiences, that I understood their disillusionment, mistrust and anger. I determined, then, to create my Women and War project.
Having specialized in college in the study of female psychology, I naturally focused on servicewomen as well as female family members, who seem to carry the brunt of the post-military care of loved ones. Not surprisingly, it is often military family members and loved ones who first reach out for help. Thus, I began offering specialized retreats for female family members.
Despite having studied the issues military family members face, I was walking in uncharted territory. There are no models or templates for the healing process for family members of those who are serving or have served in the military. This makes the process especially difficult, as there are many stages families must go through when one of its members joins the military. Each stage (enlistment/draft, boot camp, advanced training, deployment—before, during—and return home/reintegration) brings forth a variety of issues that are often handled differently by each family member. There are also a myriad of circumstances that can influence how family members feel and react.
Many military family organizations tend to “do” things to support the troops, such as sending care packages and meeting returning troops at the airport. Rarely, if ever, do they discuss their personal fears, concerns, or anguish with one another. I began to focus on the person of the caregiver. What is it like in their hearts, what hurts the most, what was most angering, what has helped the most? I started a weekly teleconference support group for female family members from around the country and eventually started to run weekend retreats for them as well. What I found was that wives, mothers, girlfriends, daughters, and sisters were most profoundly helped by sharing their stories with one another and providing each other heartfelt support for self-care.
Shortly after my first military family members retreat, female troops and veterans began coming to our war healing retreats more frequently. After spending personal time with each of them, I had enough rudimentary understanding of the complex nature of being a woman in the military to decide to conduct separate retreats for military women and veterans. Again, I knew I was on uncharted ground. Although we have records of how cultures around the world and throughout time have brought their male warriors home and helped them reintegrate, there are few examples that refer to the unique needs of women.
Again, I found that having the chance to talk with a room full of interested women with similar experiences and concerns has been a major step for the women at my women veteran healing retreats. Because of the competition among military women in the field, they do not usually bond with each other the way male troops create “a brotherhood.” Any sign of weakness would likely be detrimental to one’s career. Consequently, the natural feminine urge to bond and be social and supportive is undermined. After military service, many women isolate and do not have ongoing relationships with former comrades. By coming together in the unthreatening atmosphere of a retreat with other women, they can open up in new ways.
I am extremely grateful for the events that have made it possible for me to meet and know the veterans and their family members and be privy to their stories. I have a particularly soft spot for the wonderful women, some of whom are in these pages, who have taught me so very much about the military, about being female, about speaking the truth, and ultimately about grace. In the following pages I will share a few of their stories to illustrate some of what I have learned. To preserve confidentiality, all names have been changed and some of the ancillary facts have been altered. However, I have consciously kept the integrity of the illustrations intact.
Women Warriors
During the Revolutionary War, a woman named Mary Ludwig Hays joined her husband on the battlefield to provide food and water to the troops. During the battle of Monmouth, New Jersey, Mary was given the nickname of Molly Pitcher for the endless buckets of water she carried. When her husband then fell to exhaustion from his cannon post, Mary put down her bucket and took his place at the cannon, where she remained the rest of the day until the battle was over. The name Molly Pitcher quickly became the term given to all of the women who, like Mary Hays, provided food, water, medical care, and solace to the Continental army.
Women have always participated in war, as family members tending from the sidelines, or taking up arms as Mary Ludwig Hays did, and yet it is only very recently that they have done so officially as members of the armed forces. In 1942, the Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps (WAAC) was established as the women’s branch of the U.S. Army, but it was still considered auxiliary. The Women Accepted for Voluntary Emergency Service (WAVES), also established in 1942, was a division of the U.S. Naval Reserve. Both provided a variety of supportive duties in roles such as secretaries, switchboard operators, mechanics, cooks, and drivers. However, it wasn’t until 1948 that women became a permanent part of the military and, by 1950, they represented only 2% of the military population.
Today, women in all branches of the military comprise about 15% of the total female armed forces population in the United States. Out of high heels, nurses’ caps, and secretarial pools, they are now on the ground, in combat boots, and trained to kill with their bare hands. They serve in war zones side by side with male troops where there is no clearly delineated “front line.” Improvised explosive devices (IEDs) are everywhere and mortar attacks take place regularly on military bases. All of our troops are at risk. The Department of Defense claims that two-thirds of today’s military women are exposed to combat. And yet, despite these realities, women were not officially allowed by government policy to be in military combat units until 2016.
On the home front, women veterans are four times as likely to be homeless as their civilian peers. Their suicide rates are higher than their male counterparts, as are their rates of depression, substance abuse, chronic health problems, post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and military sexual trauma (MST). And their sense of betrayal cannot be overstated (Boyd, Bradshaw, & Robinson, 2013).
Donna is a tall, slightly overweight woman who served in Iraq during the Gulf War. As part of the engineer corps, she and another woman were assigned to a job a few miles from her base. They each set out in construction vehicles to the vast emptiness of the hot desert.
Once they were at their coordinates, they began working, each operating a different machine. Donna glanced at her companion’s bulldozer and suddenly saw an Iraqi man who had “appeared out of nowhere” heading toward it with a machine gun. She saw him leap up on the bulldozer, about to kill her comrade. Out of instinct, Donna grabbed her own gun and shot the man dead.
Shocked and in horror of what she had just done, Donna could barely speak. She and the other soldier held each other in stunned silence. Aside from the pain of taking another life, Donna knew that, as a woman, she was not allowed by military regulations to fire her weapon without an order to do so. She could be court-martialed even for saving the life of a fellow soldier. Both women knew what it would mean if they told command what had happened. After much consideration, they decided that the only option was for them to bury the Iraqi man and tell no one.
The pain of that moment has stayed with Donna ever since. She agonized for many years about who the man was and who he may have left behind. She knew that his family would never know what happened to him or where he was buried. Maybe he had a wife and children who suffered because of his death. Maybe they had hopes and dreams as a family that would never be realized.
Donna also agonized because military regulations had prevented her from acknowledging her part in his death. If she had been allowed to fire her weapon, as her male counterparts were, she would not have had to bury him. At least his friends and family would have a corpse to bury in their own religious tradition. She may have even been awarded a medal. But the double standard of the military at that time caused her to violate her own heart. Although she has come to peace with herself for her actions, she is still angry that the military put her and her partner in such danger without legal means to protect themselves. Her sense of being disposable, marginal, and unworthy in the eyes of the military has never left her. Neither has her outrage.
The 2008 documentary, Lioness, which traces some of the first American women to be sent into direct ground combat, is a moving portrayal of the deep divide between military policy and practice. Faced with the potential for Islamic women to be combatants, the military needs our female troops to do the “pat down” to detect weapons. They must accompany male troops in house-to-house searches, which often result in fierce firefights (McLagan & Sommers, 2006).
The women in the film went on several such raids. Yet none of them were eligible for awards or promotions or combat pay for their actions. One of the missions, in which they were instrumental in the successful outcome, was reported on national television, but they were not even mentioned. Such invisibility under such horrendous conditions is demoralizing at best. Most of the women in the film seem resigned to their plight, but the anger and betrayal they feel is palpable (McLagan & Sommers, 2006).
In my work with female veterans I have heard other stories about not being believed when they tell civilians about the combat experiences they have had. Because of military regulations excluding women from combat, many people have a hard time accepting that, in practice, the current policies are not upheld. Whether this is attributed to a reluctance to believe that women can be effective fighters or to the wish that they are not put in danger is hard to say. In any event, the truth is denied and the women who have served in combat are often alone in their suffering.
Feeling alone is common for female veterans in today’s military. Unlike the WAVESs and the WAACs, who lived and worked together, military women today serve on bases where they may be one of a handful of women with several thousand male troops. Often, on large bases, they are separated from each other and rarely come in contact. One would think they would seek each other out for support and camaraderie. But there is another factor at play that keeps them apart.
Servicewomen and female veterans tell me repeatedly that to be successful in the military, they have to work twice as hard as their male counterparts. They are generally more likely to be overlooked for promotions and special awards. Although these are issues that are prevalent in the civilian workplace as well, the rigors and dangers of the war zone make them ever more distressing. The desire to fit in, to be accepted as a full member of the team, creates an extremely competitive environment for women.
Instead of bonding, as often happens in the civilian workplace, servicewomen often become competitive with one another. In the military, women have to put aside their more feminine instincts—compassion, relationship, emotional vulnerability. They need to adapt to the “man’s world” they have entered. Their success is measured by how well they can conform to the masculine norms around them. Being “one of the guys” becomes all-important and being “the girl” is anathema. Seeking out other women for support or friendship could undermine their efforts.
Trust is also a huge issue for women in the military. Telling a female confidant about vulnerable feelings may not be wise if she is competing for the same promotion or task. Any sign of vulnerability or “weakness” is shunned. Betrayal of confidences is not at all uncommon in such an environment, especially for those in the underdog position that many women in the military face.
To further complicate a woman’s identity, their male compatriots often refer to them only as whores, dykes, or bitches. I have heard this complaint from several of the women I have worked with over the years, especially those who have served in Iraq and Afghanistan. Apparently, if you agree to a sexual encounter, that makes you a whore and if you refuse, that makes you a dyke or a bitch. The catch-22 here is that you can never be seen for who you are. Your identity is defined solely by your sexual behavior, and for no other reason than that you are a woman. Your ability as a soldier and as a person is not a consideration as it is with male troops.
Male veterans commonly talk about the importance of the brotherhood that forms between troops who are facing challenges together. This kind of brotherhood is so strong that troops will give their lives for one another. It has been written about since Homer’s time (see Shay, 2002; Tick, 2014). Many veterans state that the brotherhood among troops, which is often stronger than family ties, is what kept them going in the hardest times. Knowing that someone has your back at all times is a crucial reassurance that those on the battlefield rely on. And pledging the same to another is experienced as a sacred oath.
Many servicewomen do not have that kind of bond with those with whom they are working with side-by-side in life-and-death situations. The lack of such bonding leaves them much more emotionally vulnerable than their male peers. It cannot be overstated that the lack of trusted comrades in the war zone leaves troops, male or female, psychologically isolated, putting them at greater risk for breakdown. Feeling marginalized as well, women troops also sometimes fear for their own lives.
Allie was an officer in the infantry in Kandahar, Afghanistan. Because of her proven leadership skills, she was made team leader. Out on a mission, she gave an order to one of the men under her. In an act of insubordination, he refused. With no time to waste because of the danger involved, Allie did the task herself, asking only to be “covered” in the event that she was fired upon. It turned out to be a treacherous undertaking. When she returned, she discovered that her team member had fallen asleep, and would not have been able to help her had she taken fire.
That incident left Allie feeling totally alone, with no one in her platoon to watch her back. It reinforced her sense of being “disposable” in the minds of her fellow troops, for no other reason than that she was a woman. She reports being on guard at all times for fear of her fellow troops.
Despite such feelings, Allie held on to the knowledge that she was a very good soldier. She did her job as ordered and did it well. She knew she could have been a good Ranger, but women were not allowed to be Rangers. When she received a promotion, others accused her of having “slept with the right people.” Although she was angry for some time, she states that she eventually became desensitized to such slights.
Already suffering from the toll of the war zone, with no showers for days on end, often not able to eat for days at a time, extreme heat and humidity, constant vigilance, being responsible for the lives of others, going out on dangerous missions, using her weapon when needed, Allie was also raped by one of her officers. Afraid that her commander would dismiss her claims, and possibly blame, demote, or transfer her, she chose not to report it.
When she returned home and shared her combat experiences with others, she was shocked to find that she was not believed. Although she suffers from PTSD, MST, and traumatic brain injury (TBI), she is not seen by others as having a disability. When she goes to the Veterans Administration (VA) for medical services, she is assumed to be the wife of a veteran, not a veteran in her own right. She had risked her own life and had saved the lives of other troops, but her own community does not acknowledge her role.
When Allie was serving, she felt she had a purpose. She knew she was good at what she did and felt proud and important, even if unrecognized. Once home, she no longer felt that confidence. She tried college, but found that her TBI prevented her from keeping up with the work, and the college offered no accommodation for that. Feeling betrayed by the military and by her community, she has difficulty trusting anyone. The anger she felt in the military is still with her and she finds it harder to “just deal.” She states that her most rewarding relationship now is with her dog.
Allie’s experiences in the military are not uncommon. She experienced what many other women have shared with me as well. Sarah, a tall, attractive woman, served on the Korean border between north and south in the late 1970s. She was young and alone, but confident and prepared. She was an obedient soldier who looked forward to using her military benefits to go to college when she was discharged.
One evening, after her watch duty, Sarah’s team leader invited her for a drink. Being young and relatively innocent, she had little experience with alcohol. However, she was flattered and wanted to get to know him better. Later in the evening when he began making sexual advances, Sarah told him that she was a virgin and asked him to stop. However, he continued to insist, and eventually he overpowered her.
Shaken and disoriented, Sarah didn’t sleep for the rest of the night. She didn’t know where to turn or who to go to in order to report the incident. When she finally worked up the courage to tell her commanding officer, she was told to “suck it up.”
Later that day, there was a skirmish. Sarah’s team leader, who was also her rapist, ordered her to a dangerous spot below their position. Although she had a weapon, because she was a woman she was not allowed by military regulations to have any ammunition. Her team leader knew this but ordered her anyway. Alone in a very dangerous situation and with no useable weapon to defend herself, Sarah felt as if she were being sent to her own execution. She managed to take some protection lying flat behind a few rocks long enough for the shooting to stop.
That incident was formative for Sarah. She felt totally helpless to prevent her own death. She believed that if she continued to pursue justice for being raped, she would likely be “accidentally” killed. She got a clear message, as Allie did, that no one there had her back. She was alone and the enemy was everywhere! Her rage was so intense that she was afraid she would do or say something that would get her in trouble. She responded by clamming up and going inward, avoiding eye contact and only speaking when spoken to.
When Sarah was discharged, she began drinking heavily as a way of trying to control her anger. She managed to hold down a few menial jobs, but college proved too much for her. Like Allie, she too felt invisible to her community. No one believed that she had been in combat, especially in Korea. The VA had no special provisions for female veterans. Support groups there, as well as at the Vet’s Center, were all-male, and she did not feel safe or comfortable sharing her story.
Sexual assault is a rampant problem in the military. Current statistics from the 2014 Department of Defense (DoD) Annual Report and the RAND Military Workplace Study indicate that there were 20,300 reported cases of sexual assault that year. Although slightly more than half of these were male victims, because women represent only 15% of the overall military, their rates are obviously statistically much higher.
Further, 76% of women who did report were assaulted at least twice, making the number of incidents much higher. Of those who did report, 62% faced retaliation and the majority of them faced reprisals from superiors and commanders. The report indicates that the vast majority of victims (86%) did not report the assaults, and it is easy to understand why. The report further states that 1 in 4 women (compared to 1 in 14 men) experienced persistent, severe sexual harassment or gender discrimination, much of which lasted several months (Rand Report, 2014).
The very informative documentary film, The Invisible War, gives a vivid picture of what military women who are sexually assaulted are up against (Ziering, Barklow, & Kirby, 2012). Unlike the civilian world, the military has its own “military justice” system. Consequently, any infractions have to go “up the chain of command.” However, commanders are reluctant to report cases of sexual assault to those higher up, because it reflects badly on their unit and, consequently, on them. If the perpetrator happens to be the commander, which is not uncommon, reporting is not even an option. It is most common for commanders to dismiss reports of sexual misconduct, or worse, to blame victims and tell them to “suck it up,” as in Sarah’s case.
To “suck it up” means to go back to your work and act like it didn’t happen, to go out on missions as a “team” alongside the perpetrator, to possibly have to follow the perpetrator’s orders, and to possibly ride in the same vehicle, eat meals, and sleep next door to the perpetrator. Under such conditions, how could anyone ever feel safe? How could anyone feel protected by fellow troops? How could anyone not feel terrified and betrayed?
As is documented in The Invisible War, it is also common for women who report sexual assault to be transferred to a different unit, where they don’t know their peers and have to start a new job and new relationships after such a traumatic event. Or they are referred to Military Behavior Health, where they receive a mental health diagnosis, which can sometimes lead to being discharged with no benefits (Ziering, Barklow, & Kirby, 2012).
In one of the worst cases of apparent assault, 19-year-old LaVena Johnson was found dead on her base. Her face had been battered, her genitals doused with acid, and she had been shot in the head and burned. The army labeled it a suicide (Democracy Now, 2008).
Women veterans who survive military sexual assault often take years or a lifetime to recover. They often feel depressed, anxious, and ashamed. They find it difficult to trust anyone when they return home. They can have nightmares and flashbacks and often feel helpless and numb. It is not unusual for them to develop chronic medical problems and eating disorders as a result.
Once home, when friends and family don’t believe their stories, when they are not recognized as veterans by the VA, when they have no military comrades to turn to, many women deal with their anger and despair by turning to drugs and alcohol, which, in turn, can unravel their lives. Or, worse, they turn to suicide. They report feeling isolated, mistrustful, despairing, and alone. And they feel betrayed by the military, betrayed by their comrades, and betrayed by the country that they served.
My retreats for women troops and veterans always include community witnesses. Interested and compassionate women represent the larger community as they embrace the lives and experiences of our military women. In the circle of women, half of whom are veterans or currently serving in the military, and the other half of whom are civilians, the discussion quickly gets personal. The issues of discrimination for being women, the cultural assumptions about who we are and what we are capable of, and the expectations of how we should behave, come pouring out. So does our outrage. But such feelings are compounded by the military environment with all of its constraints.
Civilian women gain an insight into the gruesome conditions in which our military sisters are often put. Although the issues may be the same, civilian women have many more options and protections. Employers must conform to labor laws. Corporations are sued for equal pay. Sexual harassment and assault are taken seriously, treated as a crime, and legal assistance is available. Civilian women usually have the freedom to get away from a perpetrator, to get to safety. But military women are trapped and have no recourse. For many, our retreat is the first place they feel safe enough to share their stories and their rage.
Civilian women are frequently moved to tears upon hearing these stories. We join our military sisters by grieving and lamenting with them for ourselves and for the human race. Together we all find what is common between us, the landscape in which all women live. That is when the healing begins, a bridge is built, a hand is extended … in both directions.
Women Family Members
“When my brother enlisted, I didn’t know I was enlisting too.” Jean is the 32-year-old sister of an active duty soldier who has been serving for 15 years. She has been one of his chief supporters. Barely making ends meet as a restaurant manager and living and caring for her mother, she feels like she has given her entire adult life to the military. Preparing and sending weekly care packages, arranging and rearranging her schedule to attend deployment and homecoming events, emailing uplifting notes and waiting patiently for a word or two in response, checking out social network sites to find out what is happening in his unit and worrying, all the while being there for her mother who does the same, Jean is tired of war.
Having grown up in a liberal community, Jean shunned the concept of war. However, after her brother’s stormy adolescent years, she was happy for him when he enlisted in the military. She hoped it would calm him down and help him mature. She never imagined that he would be sent on numerous deployments and very dangerous missions. She had no idea how it would impact her life. Believing that the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were unnecessary and not justified, Jean is also angry that her brother (and she herself) had to sacrifice so much for what she called “no good reason.”
Dora, a single mother, has survived her son’s five deployments serving in the Middle East. Although she is very proud of her son’s accomplishments, as a peace advocate like Jean, it has been difficult for her to reconcile her son’s involvement in the military. This is a complication that many family members face. They want to support their loved one and yet they are not supportive of what he or she must do as a member of the armed services.
Many, if not most of their friends are also peace advocates and therefore unable to give the kind of non-judgmental, empathetic support they need. Military family members who do not support war cannot justify the sacrifices they and their loved ones have to make. They do not have the comfort others may have of believing that their loved one is serving a noble and honorable cause. In fact, just the opposite is the case. They feel betrayed by a government that seems to not care about them or their loved ones, that uses and abuses their troops for questionable ends.
Always concerned about her son’s safety, Dora is very careful about placing any requests on his time and focus when he is stateside. She knows he needs to train and stay sharp to prepare for the next deployment. She doesn’t want to burden him with family obligations or concerns. Whenever she has the occasional visit with him, she takes her cues about what they do, and when, from him and his needs. She does not feel resentful, but rather offers this kind of support as her motherly responsibility to protect her son.
Dora knows the stress of preparation for deployment very well. Her son becomes super-focused on his training and withdraws emotionally even more than usual. She knows this means he has to stay sharp and focused on his work. Like most troops, he does not want to risk “softening” emotionally, concerned that would be distracting. His primary focus has to be on the next mission. His life and those of his comrades might depend on it. Not knowing for months exactly when he will be leaving, Dora is always on high alert herself. At least when he is on home soil, she knows he is safe. Anticipating another deployment has at times been torture. Then there are the unexpected delays in departure dates, requiring that she change airline and hotel arrangements so that she could be at his new departure point, as well as cancel and rearrange other plans.
At one such juncture, her son yet again packed up, moved out of his apartment and put all of his things in storage. However, the deployment was then postponed. Because he was not yet divorced from a woman who lived several states away, he was not eligible, by military regulation, to live on the base. With nowhere to go and unable to afford to continue to live in a hotel, he began living out of his car. Dora and her daughter (who were also several states away) were outraged at the military’s ridiculous regulations. They couldn’t bear to let him do that and ran up their credit cards to give him a bed to sleep in and a place to cook a meal.
Eventually Dora realized that she was going to her son’s deployment ceremonies more for herself than for her son. The ceremony is usually boring and overly patriotic for her tastes and beliefs. Her son, who also does not enjoy such events, is just one of a very large crowd and doesn’t have much time to be with her. Any personal time they might have is stilted because of his emotional distance and her fear of distracting him with her emotional needs. But it affords her one more time, one “last time,” before he departs. She knows it may really be the last time she sees him, and it rips her heart open each time. For military family members, each email message, text, letter, Facebook post, or occasional phone call “could be the last.” Each time, family members have to once again experience letting go of their loved one who is in harm’s way and may not return home.
Stories like Dora’s are all around us. Our government sends people off to foreign soil to fight an even more foreign “enemy.” To most of us, war is another world, although we have movies and literature that help us comprehend, as well as stories from veterans themselves. We have some idea of the sounds and sights and terror of the battlefield and the boredom and loneliness of camp life.
However, the families and loved ones who our troops leave behind are with us here, on our own soil. They are the cashier at the grocery store, the hygienist at the dentist’s office, the college student across the street, the mechanic, the accountant. They are making sacrifices every day right next to us, and yet we have no idea what their lives are like. They are invisible to us, and they know it.
Cassandra’s son also served a tour in Iraq. When he was discharged, he went home and settled right down. He got a good job that he seemed to enjoy and saved enough to buy his own house. As a counselor, Cassandra was aware of the emotional problems troops can come home with. She had been on the lookout for them and was very relieved. However, a few years after his discharge, her son began to break down physically as well as mentally.
Cassandra stepped in to find help for him, but his condition continued to deteriorate. He became isolated and could barely get out of bed. He lost his job and his house. Unable to even drive himself to his doctor’s appointments, he moved in with Cassandra and her husband. What she thought was a serious depression turned out to be much more. He began having several different bizarre physical symptoms. After 12 years of medical appointments, tests and retests all over the country, fighting for his military records, fighting for VA medical assistance and benefits, Cassandra is exhausted. As his only caretaker, she has files that stack up over two feet. Eventually it was determined that most of his medical problems are linked to his service in Iraq and exposure to toxic materials.
Cassandra is filled with grief for her son and the life that has unfolded for him. Proud that he selflessly wanted to serve his country, she is enraged that neither she nor her son were told that he was risking a life of endless medical problems if he deployed. “There was no informed consent,” she laments. She has since discovered that a significant number of veterans face such medical problems. As with the defoliant Agent Orange, which, according to the National Vietnam Veterans Foundation has contributed to the deaths of two-thirds of our veterans who served in the war in Vietnam, her son is facing an early death. She, like many of us, assumed that the military would, of course, protect him. She calls it “criminal” that they didn’t.
Valerie is a physician at a VA hospital and the mother of a young man who has recently returned from a tour of duty in Afghanistan. While her son, who was an excellent soldier, was deployed, he sustained a foot injury during a routine exercise. Although he reported it to his commander and asked for permission to seek medical assistance, he was told to “stop whining and tough it out.” When the injury did not heal and he could barely walk, he again asked his commander for permission to obtain medical attention and was again admonished for being a wimp for displaying behavior unbecoming a soldier and was accused of being a slouch just attempting to get out of his duties. Finally, when a dangerous infection developed, he was cared for. Valerie was furious.
Not only had the military refused her son necessary treatment, but they also put his life and the lives of his comrades in danger. Had he been unable to perform well because of his injury, others could be at risk. As a mother, Valerie was naturally concerned about his health and angry that he had such difficulty getting the attention he needed. As a physician, she was appalled that commanders in charge of soldiers’ welfare would be so inept and unconcerned about the physical health and wellbeing of their troops.
Valerie’s situation is unique in that she also works for the VA. She sees veterans all day long and laments the great inefficiencies and frustrations present in the system, for patients and caregivers alike, that lead to veterans experiencing difficulty in gaining timely access to care and caregivers experiencing great stumbling blocks in being able to provide the high quality care they wish to give veterans. She describes the hospital conditions as chaotic and inefficient. She states that although the clinical staff people are hardworking, talented, and devoted professionals, the overall working conditions are very frustrating. Deficient ancillary support in clinics often impedes the type of effective, efficient, and comprehensive care of veterans that they justly deserve. Because of her experiences, both at the VA and with her son’s injury, Valerie has seen a side of the military that she regards as inhumane and disrespectful of the soldiers, veterans, their families, and their health care professionals. As a concerned citizen and taxpayer, she is outraged at our nation’s policy makers for their treatment of our troops and veterans. First they ask them to do unthinkable things at great personal sacrifice to themselves and their families, and then they don’t take proper care of them when they are emotionally or physically broken.
Valerie, like so many family members, also had difficulty with the loss of control to the military. Just as our troops soon learn that “the military owns me,” family members must quickly adapt as well. Johnnie and Jane are at the mercy of the military, and so are their families.
As any typical mother of a soldier whose son is in a war zone, Valerie worried about what her son was being asked to do and how safe he was. However, because he had gotten married just before deploying, it was his new wife who was kept informed about news of their soldier and his unit by the family readiness support group. Valerie and her family felt completely left out of any and all news about their loved one. Her new daughter-in-law was not friendly and did not share information with her. Valerie was reluctant to put pressure on her son and upset him in any way while he was deployed and always in imminent danger. And she didn’t want to appear to be a “whining mother” to the military command. Valerie and her family were left to worry in silence during his lengthy deployment, only to gain news about her son and his unit on the rare occasions he was able to e-mail or phone them.
From the time her son left the country, Valerie felt like a persona non grata to the military. Parents, those who lovingly and carefully raise our children and make great sacrifices for them, are expected to just turn them over to the military and walk away. Like the old adage says, “If the military wanted you to have a family, they would have issued you one.” For Valerie and her family, that was a very difficult pill to swallow.
Most of the family members I have worked with express this same loss of control to the military. This is true whether or not they lived on a base. However, military bases do provide many more supports for families and, of course, families have each other. But in the post-9/11 wars, most of our troops do not live on bases. This means that families are often totally alone with their experiences. They complain that their friends are focused on other things and have little tolerance for listening to them or giving real emotional support. And family members often have difficulty talking about the trivialities of life with others when they have a loved one serving in a war zone. This sometimes gets so frustrating that family members give up and stop socializing, which furthers their isolation.
When they reach out to family member groups, many women have shared that they find the encounters superficial and more focused on supporting the troops than on supporting themselves and each other. They feel conflict behind the faulty but common refrain that “if you don’t support the war, you are not supporting our troops.” Dora and many others know this is not the case. She feels caught between those who think she should support the war because her son is serving and those who considerate it hypocritical to have a son serving while advocating peace. There is no place for her and others like her.
Denise was a short perky young woman who, in the late 1970s, fell in love with a local boy in her community. This boy enlisted in the Marines and was eventually sent to Vietnam as a helicopter machine gunner. When his helicopter was shot down he was lucky to have survived. However, his best friend, his “battle buddy” riding next to him, was not. Believing he had caused the crash tortured him. From the time he recuperated and returned home he began devoting himself to atoning for his actions in the field. Helping other veterans became his life’s mission, so much so that he was rarely available for Denise and their children.
Although Denise knew that her husband was doing good, important work with other veterans, she felt jealous of his devotion to them. His sense of the “brotherhood” seemed to be impenetrable. His experience had been so horrendous and formative, it seemed like he was permanently “stuck” in the rice paddies with his comrades. He was not the same man Denise had fallen in love with. Needless to say, there were many conflicts over the years about his loyalties. Denise, whose anger and disappointment were always just under the surface, almost left him on several occasions. But, as a Vietnam veteran who had been exposed to Agent Orange, he was the one who ended up leaving her by an early death.
The health and medical problems our veterans have to contend with are astronomical. Even when they are not physically wounded, the toll that living and fighting in the war zone takes on them, their bodies, souls, and psyches, often last a lifetime. Family members inevitably become the primary caretakers for them, and yet the rest of us are usually oblivious.
In a time when endless war seems to be the future, it is more important than ever that we, as a nation, pay attention and listen to those who serve in the military and to their families. Their stories alone are enough for a nation to no longer consider war an option.
References
Boyd, M. A., Bradshaw, W., & Robinson, M. (2013). Mental health issues of women deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan. Archives of Psychiatric Nursing, 27, 10–22. Retrieved from http://www.psychiatricnursing.org/article/S0883-9417(12)00149-5/abstract
Democracy Now. (2008, July 23). Suicide or murder? Three years after the death of Pfc. LaVena Johnson in Iraq, her parents continue their call for a congressional investigation. Democracy Now!. Retrieved from http://www.democracynow.org
McLagan, M., & Sommers, D. (Producers); McLagan, M., & Sommers, D. (Directors). (2006). Lioness [Motion picture]. United States of America: Room 11 Productions.
Rand Report. (2014). Sexual assault and sexual harassment in the U.S. military: Top-line estimates for active-duty service members from the 2014 RAND Military Workplace Study. Rand Corporation. Retrieved from http://www.rand.org
Shay, J. (2002). Odysseus in America: Combat trauma and the trials of homecoming. New York, NY: Scribner.
Tick, E. (2014). Warrior’s return: Restoring the soul after war. Boulder, CO: Sounds True.
Ziering, A., Barklow, T. (Producers), & Kirby, D. (Director). (2012). Invisible war [Motion picture]. United States of America: Cinedigm/Docurama Films.