Treating War's Toll on the Mind
Thousands of soldiers have post-traumatic stress disorder. Will they get the help they need?
Last year, for instance, Platoni spent four months in Ar Ramadi, near Baghdad, where her battalion was under constant attack by insurgents. "They were watching their fellow soldiers burning to death and thinking they might be next," says Platoni. When a break came, one platoon was removed from combat for 48 hours so they could rest, shower, have a hot meal, and talk to psychologists about what they'd been through. "When they returned to the fighting," says Platoni, "they were able to deal with their fears better and focus on what needed to be done."
When soldiers do return home, the true emotional trauma of war is often just beginning. They go through a cursory post-deployment medical screening and a quick interview with a healthcare worker, who may or may not specialize in mental health. And returning soldiers are far more likely to downplay emotional problems for fear of being shifted from the "go home" line into the "further evaluation" line and being prevented from seeing families and friends.
Macho warrior. Three to six months after they return-the time when PTSD symptoms are the most likely to start becoming obvious-troops are given another mental health screening and may be referred for further evaluation, although the chances are slim. A GAO report issued in May, for instance, found that of the 5 percent of returning veterans between 2001 and 2004 who tested as being at risk for PTSD, fewer than one quarter were referred for further mental health evaluations. William Winkenwerder, assistant secretary of defense for health affairs, took issue with the study: "We're doing more than any military in history to identify, prevent, and treat mental health concerns among our troops. It is a top priority for us." Even with a referral, many veterans and active-duty soldiers will not seek help for fear of being stigmatized. To help break down the barriers, the DOD has begun encouraging high-ranking soldiers to openly discuss the effects that combat and killing can have on a person's psyche. Even so, the military remains dominated by the image of the macho warrior who sucks it up and drives on. According to the VA, the number of PTSD cases has doubled since 2000, to an all-time high of 260,000, but fewer than 40 percent of veterans from Iraq and Afghanistan have sought medical treatment. "This is the military culture," says Schrumpf, who now gets regular therapy and takes medication to help with his PTSD. "If it gets out that you even went to see the medical officer, and it always does, then you're done as a career marine."
In a surprising admission, former Georgia Sen. Max Cleland, who lost three limbs in Vietnam, announced in August that he is being treated for PTSD in the hopes of encouraging other vets to do the same. One of the biggest problems for Vietnam veterans, for instance, was that their psychological wounds went unrecognized and unattended for so long that, by the time they got treatment, many were past of the point of being helped. Cleland is one of a growing crowd of Vietnam vets who are finally seeking help-and competing for VA services-as a result of long-buried feelings stirred up by the Iraq war.
advertisement
