After the Civil War, it was known as soldier's heart. Following World War I, it was called shell shock. In World War II and Korea, the name was combat fatigue.
Post-traumatic stress is a soldier's natural reaction to the horrors of war. Left untreated, or suppressed, a returning combatant's response to this stress can manifest itself in post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
Symptoms can include a feeling of detachment from others or feeling emotionally numb, an inability to fall or stay asleep, irritability or outbursts of anger, hypervigilance, shame or survivor guilt, substance abuse, alienation and a feeling of being alone.
In 1979, a federal law was passed making combat veterans living farther than 50 miles from a Veterans Administration hospital eligible for free counseling services.
Grass Valley clinical and forensic psychologist Page Brown has been working under contract with the VA since 1997 to offer therapy to local combat veterans experiencing PTSD.
“When I started, I knew something about PTSD, but I didn't know anything about the military culture,” Brown said. “Initially, I worked with mostly Vietnam vets, but also WWII and Korea vets as well. I had to learn about these various engagements and different branches of service and all of the military jargon.”
It turns out that not all wars are the same.
“My learning curve was slow and steady. Just at the time where I really felt like I ‘got' Vietnam, we had these current wars,” Brown said. “Now I have these younger ones coming in from Iraq and Afghanistan and I'm on a whole new learning curve about what they experienced over there, which is really pretty different than what happened in Vietnam.”
Brown says that soldiers, both old and young, have a true appreciation for what each sacrificed in order to serve the country.
“The big difference between these wars is jungle versus desert,” Brown said. “The Iraq and Afghanistan vets look at the Vietnam vets as their heroes because they were involved with this real front-line kind of war, a hand-to-hand combat kind of thing, while the older vets look at the younger ones as their heroes because they have nothing to hide behind, they're in the desert, there's no trees, they're doing this house-to-house raid kind of thing, which is really terrifying and they're doing the multiple tours.”
It's hard to imagine what it's like for a soldier who believes his time at the front line is finally over, to learn that his stay is being extended. Add in multiple deployments and one can begin to understand why, according to Brown, there are 18 suicide attempts a day.
“There's something called ‘stop loss,' which is an involuntary extension,” Brown said. “I've had several young men come to me, who were told on the day that they thought they were going home, that they were being kept another four months.”
Brown says that PTSD at its core is a chronic anxiety disorder and, though there is no known cure, her job is to try and help the vet make things better and readjust to civilian life.
Not an easy thing for soldiers who for many months have dealt with the reality that their lives could end at any moment.
She works to gain the vets' trust and make them realize they are not the only ones with issues related to PTSD, that their experience is not abnormal. She teaches coping mechanisms and ways of dealing with anger. After working with a vet individually, Brown tries to get them into group therapy where other vets can serve as mentors.
“A common symptom is hypervigilance,” Brown said. “This is a life-saving thing. If you're in a war zone you need to be very vigilant about what is going on around you, because there could be an enemy, a roadside bomb, or whatever, you have to pay attention. When you come home you don't lose that. It was life-saving while in war and the returning soldier can't just say ‘I don't need that anymore.'
“What I'm noticing with these young ones is that they are driving crazy. They see a dead raccoon on the road and swerve around it because it could have a bomb planted in it. Rationally, they know that doesn't make any sense, but because they were trained for that, they do it anyway. Potholes filled in with fresh asphalt, same thing. They straddle the white line, not choosing a lane because they don't want anything beside them, or in front of them, or directly behind them. Overpasses terrify them. It takes months or even a year or so for them to get calm about driving here.”
The VA contract that Brown works under allows for only one year of subsidized counseling. Because of this, Brown, along with Marriage and Family Therapist Mark Thielen, has formed a non-profit organization they call Welcome Home Vets to help “provide an additional layer of treatment.”
Formed approximately a year ago, Welcome Home Vets has an all-volunteer board of directors, most of whom are former vets, or spouses of vets. Veterans and their family members are able to enlist Welcome Home Vets as a way of helping them deal with life after military service.
“The family is sort of the black hole of nontreatment,” Brown said. “If, for instance, a vet commits suicide, there is no place for the spouse to go. We've opened up Welcome Home Vets to all of the needs of the family, whether it be a spouse, a parent or the children.”
Tom Kellar is a freelance writer living in Cedar Ridge. He can be reached at
thomaskellar@hotmail.com.