The Broken Soldier

A few weeks back Sarah and I were holed-up in an “E-town,” KY hotel room recovering from the Army’s latest knee-slapper - sending us about 900 miles roundtrip so I could have an MRI, and riding out a winter storm that would have made our trip home difficult and dangerous. In spite of our frustration and the physical pain the trip caused, Sarah and I were enjoying each others company. The “Cloud Nine” bed, the candy, G2, soda pop, and snacks were nice too. We watched TV, checked email, and Sarah did some remote work while I did research on home improvements we’d be able to afford once I had positive income again. We both tried to spin it as a short vacation. This is an example of turning a frown upside-down: A useful and health-enhancing talent when one is forced to tolerate the impact questionable decisions by Army and Guard personnel have on one’s life.

During our ‘vacation’ I got an email from Sheila Marolla relaying information she received from the Guard speaking to an authorization for consult with a neurosurgeon. Awesome! It only took them 10 months to respond to this request, but better late than never I suppose (though there’s a good chance the damage to my nervous system cannot be repaired now). We found out today the Guard lied to Ms. Marolla, and not in a 9/11 conspiracy theorist sense - that is to say, confusing making a false statement innocently with a false statement made deliberately with deception in mind.

An authorization for medical care is a document. One either has it or one doesn’t. If there’s no document, there’s no authorization. There was no document. Therefore, there was no authorization. The Guard knew this when they gave this info to Ms. Marolla in attempt to influence her opinions of how the Army and Guard are handling this matter. Sarah brought this to Ms. Marolla’s attention today. I’ll bring this to Ms. Winters’ attention on Monday. Ms. Winters is the contact Archbishop Bruce J. Simpson gave me with the Michigan Bar to retain pro bono representation in federal court for writ of mandamus action. The legal action I promised them I would take if they did not respond to their legal obligations to fully treat me.

A person or group with minimal reasoning powers is capable of pattern recognition. In this matter there has been a rather obvious pattern. The Army and Guard fail to do what they are supposed to do. I explain to them the action I will take if they don’t respond. They fail, and I take action. With each failure the action in response becomes more complex and more serious, and for the Army and Guard almost certainly more messy. The Army and Guard misconstrue alerting them to my intended action (as a matter of courtesy so as to not take them by surprise) as idle threat motivated by, as one Guard member involved stated, “an attempt to stir up fuss to get what I want.” Though this person failed to grasp what it is I want, in spite of having been very clear about that from the beginning. I want full, prompt medical care for the injuries I sustained on active duty. I want full and fair consideration for incapacitation pay for the time I’ve been unable to work because of this injury. And when medical evaluation and physical evaluation boards convene I expect and want to be treated fairly, or as fairly as DoD guidelines prescribe. In other words, I expect and want the Army and Guard to meet their legal obligations to me. If they don’t do so, they will reap what they sow.

My condition leaves little choice in activity. Sleep. Write. Lay down. Walk to the bathroom. Shower. Every few weeks maybe get out of the house for more than an hour. I have a lot of time alone to think. Today I got the thinking about a buddy of mine at White Sands Missile Range, Ritchie.

Ritchie was a bit older than the usual military man. He had one enlistment active Navy and he had three more four year commitments to the Navy Reserves under his belt. He wasn’t exactly sure about the reasons we were at war, but felt it was important to win. He thought he could help. He went back to the military, assuming that because he’d done very well in the Navy he had a chance of doing well in the Army too. In these ways Ritchie and I were very much alike.

I met Ritchie in Physical Therapy and Rehabilitation Platoon (PTRP). At the time I wasn’t very seriously injured, just really ill. Ritchie was seriously injured. He had hurt his back during field training. Cadre, the instructors appointed over him, thought he was faking it to get out of doing PT and whatever else. As punishment they forced Ritchie to fill sand bags all day. He injured himself worse.

The Army put him on narcotic pain medications, sent him to physical therapy, and basically left him in PTRP for over a year. In that time Ritchie became addicted to the pain medication he was taking. For most of that year Ritchie had been given 90+ pills each month unmonitored by cadre or medical personnel. Ritchie begged to be sent to rehab. He was denied. He was sure if he didn’t he would have died. I don’t doubt that for a minute. Ritchie later went AWOL to get drug rehab for Percocet addiction.

Ritchie was given an Article 15 for his ‘crimes.’ Last I talked to him he was facing a less than honorable discharge. His body broken, addicted to prescription drugs, and completely unable to perform his old job (air conditioning/heating repair) he was to be put out of the Army with nothing.

I haven’t heard from Ritchie in almost 10 months. I wrote him some letters, but didn’t hear back from him. For all I know Ritchie was put out on the street. Maybe he was sent to prison. Maybe he died of an overdose. Maybe he took his own life - as he talked about doing many times during our short but intense friendship.  What I can be sure of is that Ritchie, like so many of us, was treated unjustly by the Army. Use em up and thrown them away. Another broken promise. Another broken patriot. Another broken soldier.

I usually don’t write when there’s nothing new to write about. It’s been a few days, so I figured why not?

I’m still in terrible pain. I still have difficulty walking. TriCare is still sending me bills for medical care they’ve authorized. I still haven’t received a neurosurgery consultation. I still haven’t received an explanation of prescription benefits. I still have only been approved for one month of incapacitation pay. My wife, my friends, and I are moving forward with our plans to hold a press conference with other injured service members. We’re still working congressional staffers. The Army and Guard continue to deny wrongdoing, clinging to the idea that no paperwork is a good justification for crippling, drug-addicting, and financially ruining me. Nothing has changed.