Surviving Invisible Wounds from the "Elusive, Silent Enemy"

With Chris on my mind, I read the following NYTimes article about the difficulties soldiers face in returning home:

For a year, they had navigated minefields and ducked bullets, endured tedium inside barbed-wired outposts and stitched together the frayed seams of long-distance relationships. One would think that going home would be the easiest thing troops could do.

But it is not so simple. The final weeks in a war zone are often the most dangerous, as weary troops get sloppy or unfocused. Once they arrive home, alcohol abuse, traffic accidents and other measures of mayhem typically rise as they blow off steam.

Weeks later, as the joy of return subsides, deep-seated emotional or psychological problems can begin to show. The sleeplessness, anxiety and irritability of post-traumatic stress disorder, for instance, often take months to emerge as combat veterans confront the tensions of home and the recurring memories of war.

In their new normal, troops must reconnect with children, adjust to more independent spouses and dial back the hypervigilance that served them well in combat — but that can alienate them from civilians.

“The hardest part for me is, I guess, not being on edge,” said Staff Sgt. Francisco Narewski, a father of three who just completed his second deployment. “I feel like I need to do something, like I need to go on mission or I need to check my soldiers. And I’m not.”

For the First Battalion, 87th Infantry out of Fort Drum, N.Y., which recently finished a yearlong tour, leaving Afghanistan proved as deadly as fighting in Afghanistan. In the first 11 months of deployment, the battalion lost two soldiers, both to roadside bombs. During the next month, it lost two more, neither in combat.

~~~

Specialist Jeremiah Pulaski, who had returned from Afghanistan in February, was shot and killed by a police officer after he shot and wounded a man outside a bar in Arizona. He was 24.

Both soldiers were considered among the best in the battalion. Specialist Wade, a whiz with a soccer ball, was a member of the elite scouts platoon and on a fast track to promotion. Specialist Pulaski could be quick to use his fists in an argument but was revered for his fearlessness on the battlefield.

Specialist Pulaski was awarded a Bronze Star with Valor for dashing across an open field during an ambush in December, drawing enemy fire away from his platoon. Later that same day, he killed several insurgents as they were trying to ambush his unit near a village called Haruti.

Captain Bonenberger, Specialist Pulaski’s company commander, said the soldier saved his life twice that day — and it gnawed at him that he had been unable to return the favor.

“When he was in trouble, he was alone,” Captain Bonenberger said. “When we were in trouble, he was there for us. I know it’s not rational or reasonable. There’s nothing logical about it. But I feel responsible.”

I was curious to know more about the circumstances surrounding Pulaski's death at the hands of a police officer, someone, like Pulaski, trained to protect and serve society. What I found was just sad:

It all started at a Glendale bar where, police said, Army Spc. Jeremiah Pulaski and his friend were talking outside.

That's when Jason Taylor, a total stranger, came up, and made a seemingly innocent comment that almost cost Taylor his life.

“He is a miracle,” Mandy Taylor said of her husband.

She has a hard time talking about what happened to him.

“I was actually there that night,” she said.

But Mandy Taylor is the one facing these difficult questions because Jason simply doesn't remember.

“I don't remember the accident. I don't remember the head trauma,” Jason Taylor said.

“I heard the gunshot and looked out the door and saw him lying on the ground,” Mandy Taylor remembered.

According to police, Jason Taylor told Pulaski that if he had to choose he'd join the Marines.

Pulaski reacted by pulling out a handgun and shooting Taylor in the back of the head, police said.

Pulaski took off. He later got in a shootout with the police and was killed.

“For me to focus on that, I'm focusing on the wrong thing,” Jason Taylor said.

Taylor's attitude is amazing.

His recovery is unbelievable.

It's been less than two months since a bullet exploded in his brain.

“He still struggles with short-term memory, but it's better and it gets better every day,” Mandy said.

With the support of his wife and his daughter, Jason looks towards the future.

“I'm the type of person that will get better, will be 100 percent,” Jason said.

His wife smiled, knowing someone was watching over her soulmate.

“You think of all the things that had to happen just right for him to survive something like that. And he did,” she said.

Glad Taylor survived and appears to be on a good track to recovery. But what of Pulaski and those returning vets like him who are at risk of “not surviving” when they are off the battlefield? Are Taylor and Mandy aware that the man who shot him is a war hero? The officer who had to end his life so ignobly? If not for the NYTimes piece, I would not have known that there is more to the man than his criminal act.

Wounded Times asks:

How many people read about the end of his life and thought he must have deserved it? Honestly? Had I not been so involved in tracking all of these reports for this long, I may have thought the same thing because it is so much easier to just figure this guy was a criminal and the world is better off without him walking around terrorizing civilians. But I know too many of their stories to ever think that way again.

How do we save our soldiers from the mental effects of war? Innoculate them from committing suicide?

Losing good men and women on the battlefield, at the hands of a physical enemy, is tough. To lose them back here at home where they should be safe…

…how can we do better?