Peter Maslowski and Don Winslow

BY
Peter Maslowski and Don Winslow
Valor in battle is determined by camaraderie and fear
management. But do genes top character in steeling
the bonds of battlefield brotherhood?
How does God differentiate
between cowards and heroes?
That was what Civil War veteran Robert
J. Burdette asked in “The Coward,” a chapter in his memoirs. Based on his extensive
combat experience, Burdette agonized
over questions having no easy answer
because “courage” can be enigmatic and
malleable.
One of Burdette’s fellow soldiers repeatedly ran away from combat but whenever
the next battle occurred he moved forward
with his unit, intent on performing courageously, only to flee once again in terror.
Was this man a coward because he fled? Or
was he courageous because he kept trying
20 • VFW • June/July 2009
despite the demons that made him quail in
the face of danger and the personal disgrace he experienced as he sped from the
fighting?
Other questions concerning courage
are equally difficult to answer. Was Audie
Murphy courageous? In the sense of doing
incredible battlefield deeds, of exhibiting
physical courage, the answer was obviously yes. But Murphy admitted he was deficient in moral courage. Sometimes he
refused to act sensibly because “I lack[ed]
the guts to take being thought a coward.”
He was so fearful of cowardice, of being
shamed, that he did “brave” things.
Vietnam veteran and novelist Tim
Editor’s Note: This article is a
section from Chapter 7 of Looking
for a Hero, a biography of Joe R.
Hooper, a Medal of Honor recipient
and widely acclaimed as the
Vietnam War’s most highly
decorated soldier. Details on the
book appear at the article’s end.
O’Brien knew he went to war only
“because I was embarrassed not to”; not
going meant shame for himself, his
family and friends.
Acting bravely because an individual
feared disgrace or ridicule hardly fulfilled the heroic image of valor. Aristotle
thought shame-inspired courage was far
less commendable than pure courage, of
being courageous because it was a wonderful thing to do.
On the other hand, it took guts for a
man to reject society’s pressure to conform, to say, “No, I will not go to
Vietnam. Consider me a coward, call
me a sissy and a faggot. Send me to federal prison. But I will not go.” Here you
had a fearless coward. Perhaps more
men would have been “cowardly” if
they had had more courage.
Thin Dividing Line?
GIs of C Company,
16th Infantry, 1st
Infantry Division, draw
sniper fire near Bien
Hoa in October 1965.
What distinguishes courage from rashness, madness, stupidity and a host of
other less desirable traits? Does passionate impulsiveness count, or must
courage be cold, calculating, deliberate,
dispassionate? His fellow soldiers often
said Joe Hooper was nuts, that he had a
screw loose. He was certainly not crazy,
but what if someone on the edge of
insanity performed heroic deeds? Was he
loony or courageous?
Where was the dividing line between
courage and what Vietnam combat vets
called “John Wayne fever,” that is, a bout
of stupidity?” If a dimwitted (or ironwilled) individual did not perceive the
danger realistically, were his actions valorous? “There’s a hell of a difference
between courage and bravery and foolhardiness and stupidity, and that difference is no fine line,” William Aronow
wrote his wife. Perhaps, but the lieutenant did not indicate where to draw
the dividing line.
Was courage always gloriously
assertive single combat in the Homeric
mode, the gallant charge, the grand gesture in the nature of Pickett’s Charge—
or could it be endurance and fortitude,
simply doing one’s duty? Gen. Dwight
D. Eisenhower, for example, considered
“real heroism” to be nothing more than
“the uncomplaining acceptance of unendurable conditions.”
June/July 2009 • WWW.VFW.ORG • 21
Camaraderie in Combat
In American culture, courage and manhood were inseparable. Proving one’s
courage by surmounting physical danger
and hardship was a rite of passage for
males. As one Vietnam veteran put it, he
feared society’s censure if he did not go
to war, feared weakness, and feared “that
22 • VFW • June/July 2009
CONGRESSIONAL MEDAL OF HONOR SOCIETY
“I could say every man in the Delta
Raiders [D Co., 2nd Bn., 501st Inf.,
101st Abn. Div.] was a hero,” said Raider
Grady Towns. “Every man in that company performed his duty.” Can something as mundane as not complaining
be heroic? Is every soldier who does his
duty equally courageous?
What about a person who quivered
uncontrollably at the prospect of offensive operations, but fought furiously on
defense? Coward, hero or both?
Were courage and character synonymous? Was courage a character trait, like
being an introvert or extrovert? Before
the 20th century the formula was simple:
character=bravery. Men of upstanding
character, embodying virtuous self-discipline, made a conscious choice to act
courageously. A deficiency in courage
indicated a fundamental character flaw;
cowards lacked character.
Some modern observers suggested a
different model, one indicating that
every man, no matter how sound his
character or how self-controlled, had a
breaking point because courage was an
exhaustible resource. A man’s courage,
like his bank account, was expendable.
He might be very courageous one week,
acceptably courageous the next, then
marginally so, and finally, his account
depleted, a coward. Thus the same individual exhibited courage and cowardice.
Does weaponry affect the definition of
courage? In an era of short-range, manpowered weapons such as spears, swords,
and arrows, unrestrained aggressiveness
made sense. Similar “courageous” behavior against chemical energy weapons,
such as machine guns, artillery and
tanks, was all too often not bravery but
suicide.
Although most questions about
courage resist definitive answers—as
Hooper once said, “It’s hard to define
bravery, courage, valor”—two things
are certainly influential: camaraderie
and fear.
MEDAL OF HONOR
Staff Sgt. Joe R. Hooper
ON FEB. 21, 1968, NEAR HUE,
VIETNAM, Sgt. Joe Hooper was
serving as a squad leader for D Co.,
2nd Bn., 501st Inf., 101st Abn. Div.,
when his unit encountered heavy
fire from the NVA. He rallied a few of
his men to overrun several bunkers.
He then pulled back the wounded to
safety while under intense fire,
despite being shot himself.
As the battle raged, Hooper then
single-handedly stormed three
enemy bunkers with hand grenades
and rifle fire. A sweep of the area by
his unit drew sniper fire from three
buildings. Hooper destroyed them,
and also attacked a fourth house,
killing three machine gunners.
Hooper led his squad to the final
line of resistance—four enemy
bunkers in a row. With an armful of
grenades, he raced down a trench
behind them, tossing grenades as he
went. He next silenced three other
enemy bunkers—one with incendiary grenades and two with rifle fire.
Hooper then braved enemy fire in
an open field to rescue a wounded
comrade, coming face-to-face with
an NVA soldier whom he killed with
his .45 pistol. Finally, he eliminated
the last pocket of enemy fire by
killing three NVA officers.
In the end, Hooper suffered wounds
from a bullet as well as grenade fragments, but refused immediate medical treatment. He wasn’t evacuated
until the next morning.
to avoid war is to avoid manhood.”
Another vet “wanted to prove to myself
that I was a brave man. ... No matter
what happened out there, I thought to
myself, I could never retreat. I had to be
courageous.”
Boys both longed for and dreaded the
combat test, being eager to prove they
were tough and manly but also anxious
that they might fail the test, revealing
themselves as unmanly, soft, womanish.
Research indicated soldiers entering
combat for the first time worried more
about acting disgracefully than they did
about death or maiming. However,
after their initial exposure to battle they
feared death and mutilation more and
being a coward less.
The compulsion to not display cowardice was especially imperative in the
presence of a soldier’s buddies. One of
the most compelling answers as to why
men fought so willingly was comradeship. Ideology, patriotism, training, leadership, even personal character exerted
some influence, but they were husks concealing the meaty kernel of comradeship.
That is the special bonding among young
soldiers intent on proving their manhood, each one determined to obtain and
retain the respect of the others.
A platoon leader recalled one of his
soldiers who was scared of being killed,
but “was more scared of letting his
friends down than of getting hurt.”
When this soldier was KIA the platoon
leader asked, “What could I say? That he
was brave because he was afraid to be
afraid?” Yes. And that was true for many
young men who died trying to display
their manhood.
Male camaraderie in combat units
was intense, accidental, fragile and at
times emotionally draining. “Vietnam,”
wrote Raider Paul Grelle, “can best be
described as ‘lack of.’ The lack of sleep,
the lack of clean clothes and lack of
water and food. However, the one thing
that was never lacking was the ‘bonding’ between grunts.”
Another Raider, Dave Gray, recalled
the furious monsoons, the leeches and
the onerous humping in the boonies,
but would happily “do it again, just to
be with such good warriors.”
And Capt. Charles W. “Mac”
McMenamy never recalled “anyone
seriously wounded or dying saying, in
essence, in their last words ‘God bless
America.’ The final words before being
medevaced, or dying, always expressed
concern for their fellow Raiders, and
the unit as a whole.
The intense bonding occurred even
though a soldier had no influence over
whom higher authority assigned to his
squad, platoon or company. So his buddies were accidental, with no common
heritage. Nonetheless, these accidental
“brothers,” sharing a quest for mutual
survival, created a brotherhood, a family
with its siblings knitted together as
tightly as the Hatfields or the McCoys.
Capturing the family-like atmosphere
that prevailed in his squad, Hooper
wrote his parents thanking them for a
package of food, adding that “it didn’t
last long, because we share everything we
get but it filled us up for one night and
really tasted good after C rations.”
The day Raider Ray Blackman
went to the field he “was instantly
taken to a very primitive state of
mind. The only thing that mattered at all was the ground I was
standing on and those standing
there with me. It was the basic
tribal instinct of survival.” He did
not yet know a single soldier
standing there with him, but the
combat environment automatically made them his tribe.
However, as Chaplain William
Erbach recognized, the combat family
was often short-lived, “broken up by
bullets, by booby traps, by rotation.”
When someone in the family died, a
soldier felt the loss acutely. “You feel it
more, you’ll remember it more than
anything else that might happen in
your life,” according to Captain Mac.
At the same time, a soldier developed
a calloused attitude toward anyone outside his small brotherhood. When the
Germans killed Audie Murphy’s best
friend, he did not care if the next hill
was corpse-strewn as “long as I do not
have to turn over the bodies and find
the ... face of a friend.”
Hooper shared Murphy’s attitude. As
his first tour ended, he wrote that he
would “miss my buddies. When the new
guys get it, it doesn’t quite bother me as
much, but when one of my guys who I
came over with gets killed, it really
hurts. Lost one of my best buddies the
other day. His dying words were, ‘Tell
Hoop to hang in there and give him my
pistol.’ Well, enough of that before I get
carried away.”
The last thoughts of Hooper’s buddy
(Sgt. John B. Gingery) were not for his
country or parents, but for his pal. And
Hooper did not want to show emotion,
to reveal weakness, by explaining how
devastating the sergeant’s death was.
Considering the brotherhood’s battlefield intensity, the bonds could be surprisingly transient. Grief for a dead
comrade was often excruciating. But the
sorrowing could not last long because
wartime demands left little time for
grieving; all too soon another comrade
was dead, if not tomorrow then the next
day. Despite rosy post-war reminiscences
about the allures of comradeship, soldiers often engaged in “ghosting” (staying in a rear area longer than necessary),
Murphy and Hooper fearless, these
were external perceptions. What they
indicated was that both men acted as if
they were fearless. For themselves, they
admitted fear.
“Fear is moving up with us,” Murphy
acknowledged in his autobiography. “It
always does. ... I am well acquainted
with fear. It strikes first in the stomach
like the disemboweling hand that is
thrust into the carcass of a chicken.”
Sitting around a campfire one night,
Chris Luther asked Hooper how he felt
during his Medal of Honor action.
“Well, I was scared to death.”
One way or another the courageous
person overcame or managed fear. “I
just felt comfortable knowing this guy
had fear like everybody else but knew
how to control it,” commented Luther.
“That really is the mark of a great soldier regardless of your rank. He could
Sitting around a campfire one night,
Chris Luther asked Hooper how he felt
during his Medal of Honor action.
“Well, I was scared to death.”
or rejoiced about getting out of the bush
and into some safe rear area position,
“deserting” their brothers in pursuit of
personal well being.
Moreover, many wartime buddies, very
different in personality and interests,
would not have been pals in peacetime.
When they returned home, the onceinseparable friendships quickly withered
away. Hooper, for example, made no
effort to maintain contact with the men
he met during either of his tours.
Fear to the Core
The second certainty about courage was
that at its core it involved fear, “the fear of
violent death, pain, and mutilation, the
fear of being killed and at times, too, the
fear of having to kill,” William Miller
wrote in The Mystery of Courage. A courageous soldier must recognize danger and
risks, and then overcome his fear.
Although others considered Audie
just control fear. Even if he was scared
to death you would never know it.” The
key was not denying fear, but to function even when in its grip.
“Anybody who says they aren’t scared
is a goddamn liar!” Steve Hawk insisted.
And correctly so because fear is instinctual. Because all animals need to escape
from danger to survive, the brain has a
mechanism to detect danger that compels the body to respond to a threat
quickly and automatically. In humans
this watchdog mechanism is the amygdala, an almond-sized structure buried
deep in the brain.
The amygdala is part of the limbic
system, a ring of structures encircling
the brainstem and forming the border
between it and the cerebral hemispheres, that is, between the brain’s
primitive and “intellectual” levels.
Evolutionarily ancient, the brainstem
controls basic physiological functions
June/July 2009 • WWW.VFW.ORG • 23
such as heartbeat and respiration.
Covered with the cerebral cortex and
incorporating the most recent evolutionary brain tissue, the cerebral hemispheres are where “thinking” occurs.
Emotions and reason (or thought)
meet in the limbic system.
The “hub in the wheel of fear,” the
amygdala receives inputs from two
sources, one quick and crude; the other
slower but more refined. A stimulus such
as the sight of a snake speeds
directly to the amygdala from the
sensory thalamus by leaping
across a single synapse. But it also
reaches the amygdala indirectly
via the cortex, a route that is slower because it involves multiple
links. The short, fast thalamic
pathway cannot make fine distinctions—was it a snake or just a
stick?—but screams “Snake!” and ignites
the body’s responses to potential danger
before the slow, indirect route differentiates between a snake and a stick.
Fear is involuntary. Because the amygdala operates outside of consciousness,
an individual is afraid before he or she
knows it. Fear and the body’s reaction to
danger come first, the recognition that
you are afraid arrives later. This system is
quite sensible. When survival is at stake,
reacting to a potentially dangerous stimulus even if it turns out to be innocuous
is better than not responding. Reacting
inappropriately to a stick by leaping
away is wiser than not responding to a
rattlesnake.
The amygdala is akin to a police communications center that can simultaneously send urgent messages to many
locations. The operator (amygdala) scans
incoming sensory signals, searching for
trouble signs, constantly asking, “Is this
something that can cause harm?”
When the answer is “Yes!” the amygdala, in conjunction with the hypothalamus and several other brain structures,
dispatches crisis signals throughout the
brain and body.
One set of signals arouses the autonomic nervous system, consisting of the
sympathetic and parasympathetic
branches, which are antagonistic to
each other. The former directs activities
that involve expending energy, preparing the body to meet danger, while the
latter controls quiet activities such as
digestion. They operate much like a
water faucet.
Under normal conditions the two
branches remain in balance, the water
being lukewarm because the hot (sympathetic) and cold (parasympathetic)
taps are running equally. But when one
runs wide open and the other is closed,
the water is hot or cold. That is why soldiers often feel utterly drained after a
battle, to the point of being psychologi-
phins, which are the brain’s natural
painkillers and act much like morphine
or opium. Because of their opiate-like
qualities they deaden sensitivity to pain,
which is helpful because the probability
of injury is great in a dangerous situation. Being undistracted or undeterred
by pain helps ensure survival. Also, a
cascade of dopamine, the brain’s natural thrill-seeking and pleasure drug—it
creates pleasurable sensations—results
Neurobiology may trump
character, determining who was a “coward”
and who was a “hero.”
24 • VFW • June/July 2009
cally and physiologically incapacitated.
In reaction to the body’s previous
total arousal for combat via the wide
open hot water tap, which is now closing down, the parasympathetic backlash has the cold water running at full
force. It often takes considerable time
before the two taps are again in balance.
When the brain urgently summons
the sympathetic nervous system to
action, the body undertakes a number
of unconscious, spontaneous activities:
the heartbeat speeds up; blood pressure
rises; the bronchial passageways dilate
so that more air can reach the lungs
more quickly; all unnecessary body
movements freeze at least temporarily,
but often for extended periods (since
many predators respond to movement,
freezing is often the best thing to do
when danger is near).
Nonessential functions such as bladder and sphincter control shut down,
which is why many soldiers soil themselves by involuntarily urinating or
defecating. The liver secretes glucose for
a quick energy supply; profuse sweating
reduces elevated body temperatures;
and eye pupils dilate for better vision.
The adrenal glands release a flood of
the hormones adrenaline, which generates an enormous pulse of energy, and
non-adrenaline. This flood makes the
senses even more alert, setting the brain
on edge and permitting a more rapid
response to danger.
Other alert signals unleash endor-
from the warning messages.
Without any conscious thought, then,
the body prepares itself to confront a
fearful situation.
Manifesting Fear:
Fighting, Freezing or Fleeing
Exactly how a person manifests his or
her fear is determined in part by “display
rules.” These are the conventions, norms
and habits people develop to manage
their emotions. They can vary not only
among individuals but also across cultures.
But the amygdala is capable of executing an “emotional hijacking,” impulsively overwhelming the rational brain
so completely that a person does not
know what he or she is doing. Thus
becoming delirious with rage or fear,
unable to hear, speak or think clearly.
An emotional hijacking can be so
powerful that the heart rate jumps 30
beats per minute within a single heartbeat! Emotions dominate rationality
because the direct route from the sensory thalamus is far stronger than the
indirect route through the sensory cortex. Once the body begins cruising on
emotional autopilot, gaining rational
control by consciously deactivating the
amygdala is extremely difficult.
When confronted with danger one soldier might fight back, another may try to
hide by freezing, and still a third will flee.
Whether fighting, freezing, or fleeing,
Continued on page 26
ò
Courage in Combat
ò Continued from page 24
each response was natural, instinctive.
Influenced by surging brain chemicals
and perhaps gripped by an overpowering emotional reaction seated in the
amygdala, quite possibly none of the
men was thinking or consciously chose
which protective method to employ. All
three actions were responses to the same
stimulus, and each could potentially
achieve the goal of reducing fear.
Neurobiology may trump character,
determining who was a “coward” and
who was a “hero.” As twice-wounded
Vietnam veteran and Hollywood director Oliver Stone understood,“Cowardice
and heroism are the same emotion—
fear—expressed differently.”
Not a physical, but a neurobiological
profile may explain much of a soldier’s
behavior.
Different people confronting the same
stressful environment do not react the
same way because no two brains have the
same neural circuits, chemical soup, or
genetic composition. A soldier’s genome,
for instance, predisposes him to act in
certain ways because basic temperament
is genetically determined.
An eminent developmental psychologist, Jerome Kagaan, identified four basic
temperaments—bold, timid, upbeat,
melancholy—each dependent upon differences in the brain’s neural circuitry.
Timid, dour adults were born timid,
dour infants; bold, ebullient adults were
bold, ebullient children.
Genes, of course, are not destiny; an
individual is not the absolute prisoner
of his or her genes. They are important,
but so is the environment. That is, who
and what an individual is derives from
the interplay between genetics and life
experiences, ranging from exercise,
sleep and diet to goal-setting.
Nonetheless, genetic heritage influences an individual to be adept at some
tasks, but inept at others. It predisposes
some men and women to be “courageous,” to not scare easily, and others to
be “cowardly.”
Thrill-seekers, who often seem courageous, have a longer version of the
D4DR “thrill-seeking” gene than do
reflective, mild-mannered personalities.
This gene facilitates the brain’s absorption of dopamine. Another gene, the so26 • VFW • June/July 2009
called anxiety gene, affects the absorption of serotonin, a neurotransmitter
that inhibits aggressive behavior.
And the pain gene, called the mu (µ)
opiate receptor gene, influences an individual’s perception of pain by determining how many mu opiate receptors he or
she has. Mu receptors absorb the endorphins that diminish pain. If an individual has few receptors and therefore cannot
absorb sufficient endorphins, even a
small wound can be excruciating. In
short, in large part pain is a genetically
regulated problem, with some people
being innately and acutely sensitive to it
and others much less so.
Joe Hooper: Exhibit No. 1
What was Joe Hooper’s profile? The
answer must be speculative and incomplete at best. But he was certainly born
with a bold temperament and probably
with more than ample testosterone
because high levels foster aggressive,
excessive, impatient, and often antisocial behavior.
He undoubtedly had the longer version of the D4DR gene and a plentiful
dopamine supply, thereby enhancing his
sensation-seeking and risk-taking. And
he must have been blessed with an active
mu opiate receptor gene and with endorphins spewing from his synaptic vesicles,
making him unusually oblivious to pain.
He also probably had a low serotonin
level so that little or nothing dampened
his aggressiveness. It may also be that he
excreted large amounts of 17oHcs (cortisol), an adrenal steroid released in
response to a stressful environment.
Individuals with high cortisol levels
are predisposed to handle stress effectively. They are consistently successful
competitors, perceive their situation in
a way that minimizes danger, and feel
invulnerable and omnipotent.
Finally, Hooper’s adrenal glands probably gushed adrenaline in abnormally
high amounts. He told his sister Audrey
about the “rush” he got before going into
battle, about how he could hear the
adrenaline roaring in his bloodstream,
about how clear everything was and how
focused he became when the fighting
began, about how nothing in the world
compared to the exhilaration and
euphoria of combat.
Hooper may well have been an
adrenaline junkie, addicted to the rush.
As he once said, he could not help himself, he just got “high” during a fight.
Exactly what Hooper meant by getting “high” remains unknown. But it
might have involved a trancelike state,
an out-of-body experience induced by
adrenaline, dopamine, endorphins and
other body chemicals, in which a soldier perceives himself both as an actor
and a spectator in an unfolding drama.
A Civil War soldier perhaps best
described this phenomenon: “Amid the
roar and din of musketry and the horrible swish and shriek of shells, the intellect
seemed to be disembodied, and, while
conscious of the danger of being hurled
headlong into eternity at any moment,
the pressure upon the brain seemed to
deaden the physical senses—fear among
them,” wrote Lewis M. Hosea of the 16th
U.S. Infantry.
“Fear came later when the fight was
over, just as in the waiting moments
before it began. But throughout the day
while the battle was on I remember
having a singular feeling of curiosity
about personal experiences. I seemed to
be looking down upon my bodily self
with a sense of impersonality and wondering why I was not afraid in the midst
of all this horrible uproar and danger.”
Whatever sensations the “high” encompassed, like a drug addict, Hooper
was always searching for the next one.
When the action slowed, he became “a
little down in the dumps.” But “as long
as we are on the move and fighting
things aren’t so bad,” he said.
J
is a professor with a
specialty in military history at the
University of Nebraska-Lincoln and the
author of several military-related books.
DON WINSLOW is currently a novelist
with 12 novels to his credit and a screenwriter in California.
PETER MASLOWSKI
Reprinted from Looking for a Hero:
Staff Sergeant Joe Ronnie Hooper and
the Vietnam War by Peter Maslowski
and Don Winslow by permission of the
University of Nebraska Press. © 2004 by
the Board of Regents of the University of
Nebraska. Available wherever books are
sold or from the University of Nebraska
Press, 1-800-755-1105, and on the Web
at nebraskapress.unl.edu.
American
Snipers in
WWII, Korea
and Vietnam
Sniping evolved from WWII
into a fine martial art
by the Indochina War,
producing some
phenomenally lethal
marksmen.
E
R
rifleman, set up his
own sniper school in
North Africa to provide six
T snipers
for each of his infantry
S
A
companies.
“The ideal sniper,”
L Hinds said, “is a combination
P
of eagle
.
L
eyes, Job-like patience, Indian stealth,
N
Solomon’s wisdom, and rabbit-like
BY JOH
agility.”
rifles and set up their first school right
Across the European and Pacific thethere at the front, training and arming aters, other Army units did likewise
two Marines from each line company.
with, for example, the 511th Parachute
After Guadalcanal, the Marine Corps Infantry Regiment training its own
quickly instituted stateside scout-sniper snipers for fighting on New Guinea. It
schools near Camp Pendleton, Calif. was there that Pvt. Charles Zuke proved
and at Camp Lejeune, N.C. These grad- “as cool while hunting Japanese as
uates slowly filled newly created slots when he was husking corn” back home
and trained more snipers in the Pacific in Big Rapids, Mich. “Zuke is a quiet
Theater. For armament, both the Army youth who talks little but he’s a shootand Marine Corps fell back upon the ing fool,” his company commander told
bolt-action rifle that had proven itself the New York Times. His commander
in WWI: the .30-caliber Springfield. credited the farmboy for twice having
Some 25,000 Springfield rifles were spe- saved his life.
Like Zuke, most American snipers
cially made by Remington and modihad rural upbringings and lots of
fied to accommodate a riflescope.
Instead of centralized schools, the shooting and hunting experience. “I
Army left it up to field commanders to used to be pretty good at picking off
train unit snipers. Col. Sidney Hinds, squirrels with a Marlin .22,” Army Cpl.
commanding the 41st Armd. Inf. Regt., Gordon Eoff of Clinton, Ark., told a
2nd Armd. Div., a Gold Medal Olympic reporter after eliminating a Japanese
A
t the time
of the Pearl
Harbor attack, the
U.S. armed forces
had not a single sniper, no sniper scopes, no schools,
not even a training manual.
Though snipers had proven their
worth in WWI, the armed forces afterward dispensed of such sharpshooters
and their specialized weapons. By 1941,
however, both the Germans and Japanese
had fielded snipers by the thousands.
Like so many aspects of WWII, America
had to catch up—and catch up fast.
GIs first encountered enemy snipers
in force on Guadalcanal in 1942, where
cleverly camouflaged Japanese tied
themselves in treetops or hid below
ground in spider holes, lying in wait up
to three days to fire one shot. Out of
necessity the Marines scrounged scoped
14 • VFW • June/July 2009
ALL PHOTOS COURTESY JOHN L. PLASTER
machine gunner with one shot through
his helmet. Another scout-sniper, Army
Sgt. Harold Pointer, credited with 19
kills in his first two weeks of combat,
had grown up in Montana.
Sniping in Europe
Above: A pair of Marine snipers on Okinawa successfully engage a
Japanese soldier 1,000 yards away.
Right: 1st Lt. William D. Hawkins earned the Medal of Honor by
directing his scout-sniper platoon in clearing the beaches prior to the
invasion of Tarawa on Nov. 20, 1943. He was killed the next day.
Below: The Korean War saw the first use of scoped .50-caliber
machine guns for extreme-range sniping.
It was an Army sniper, Sgt. Frank Coons,
who likely fired the first American shot
in the European Theater. A U.S. Army
Ranger, he and 50 men of the 1st Ranger
Battalion accompanied Canadian and
British troops to raid the French coastal
town of Dieppe on Aug. 19, 1942.
Fighting alongside the commandos,
Coons fired upon a battery of German
guns and, according to war correspondent Quentin Reynolds, killed 20
German soldiers. The young
Ranger-sniper was awarded the
British Military Medal, presented
personally by Lord Louis Mountbatten.
Among the lessons learned at
Dieppe, a British report noted
that “a stalker with a quick and
sure eye, cunning fieldcraft, and
the sniper’s rifle with its telescopic
June/July 2009 • WWW.VFW.ORG • 15
sight, can do much to swing the battle
against [the Germans].” That lesson was
proved over and over.
At Monte Cassino in Italy in early
1944, Pfc. James McGill, a freckle-faced
youth with the 34th “Red Bull” Infantry
Division, expertly eliminated a German
machine gunner who had pinned down
his platoon, firing a single shot at 600
yards.
Another “Red Bull” sniper, Pfc.
Gordon Bondurant, performed phenomenally in several engagements. When
German machine-gun fire blocked his
unit’s advance, he coolly shot the gunner,
then the assistant gunner, then another
three Germans in succession who
manned the gun—each a one-shot kill at
an estimated 450 yards. On another occasion, Bondurant “kept such accurate fire
on 40 entrenched Germans that they
were surrounded and captured.”
When a German 88mm gun blocked
advancing GIs at an Italian mountain
pass, Lt. J.K. Maupin of the 41st Armd.
Inf. Regt., 2nd Armd. Div., led a group of
snipers and riflemen up a steep cliff until
they could see the Germans, some 500
yards away. After eliminating a machine
gun crew, Maupin’s men (and supporting mortar fire) forced the artillerymen
into retreat, too, clearing the way without losing a single man.
A Sniper’s Medal of Honor
It was amid the Marines’ amphibious
assault at Tarawa in the Gilbert Islands in
November 1943 that a sniper earned our
nation’s highest decoration. Landing just
minutes before an avalanche of 5,000
Marines hit the island, 1st Lt. William D.
Hawkins and his 30-man scout-sniper
platoon wrested control of a 500-yardlong pier.
“The first to disembark,” his Medal of
Honor citation reported,“1st Lt. Hawkins
unhesitatingly moved forward under
heavy enemy fire at the end of the pier,
neutralizing emplacements in coverage
of troops assaulting the main beach
positions.”
Hawkins and his snipers fired hundreds of yards up and down the beaches,
providing precision fire as Marine battalions stormed ashore. “Spectacularly
heroic,” the Marine Corps called them.
“It is not often that you can credit a first
lieutenant with winning a battle,” said
16 • VFW • June/July 2009
Col. David Shoup, the regimental commander and a future Marine Corps commandant, “but Hawkins came as near to
it as any man can.” The young lieutenant
was killed Nov. 21, his gallant sacrifice so
respected that Tarawa’s airstrip was
named after him.
Sniper Foes
Sniping was hardly an American monopoly. At Normandy in June 1944, wrote
famed war correspondent Ernie Pyle,
“the Germans have gone in for sniping
in a wholesale manner. There are snipers
everywhere. There are snipers in trees,
in buildings, in piles of wreckage, in the
grass.”
On multiple occasions, Audie Murphy,
America’s most highly decorated serviceman of WWII, was targeted by German
snipers. On Oct. 2, 1944, Murphy singlehandedly stalked a German sniper who’d
killed several of his comrades. Stripping
off all his gear but his helmet and M-1
carbine, Murphy crept to within 20 yards
of the hidden gunman, shot him, and
brought back his rifle. Two months later
it was reversed, with Murphy severely
wounded by another German sniper. Yet
he returned to combat to earn his Medal
of Honor.
By the war’s close, Army and Marine
Corps ranks included thousands of
snipers. But America’s atomic monopoly
fostered a belief that ground wars had
become obsolete. Just as after WWI,
sniper schools went away, sniper slots
were eliminated and there was no further development of sniper weapons or
tactics.
Korea: .50-Cal. Innovation
Reporting from Korea in late 1950,
respected historian and U.S. Army Brig.
Gen. S.L.A. Marshall wrote, “There is
minimal use of sniper tactics among
American forces. … It is never systemically done by our side, and such actual
sniper tactics as employed are usually an
improvisation of the moment by one or
two individuals.” A Marine report had
similar conclusions, finding that “sniper
rifles issued to a Marine division are not
employed as intended.”
Although the U.S. Army authorized
one sniper per infantry squad, or 27 per
battalion, the Army offered no training,
no manuals, not even the criteria for
selecting a sniper. One frustrated private wrote to American Rifleman magazine from Korea: “Each Army squad
ends up with a piece of equipment that
no one can use. The sniper rifle has a
telescopic sight, though no soldier or
officer receives training in the use of
this complicated gadget.”
By early 1952, the 5th Marine Regiment at last created a sniper school in
Korea, with the 1st Marines soon following suit. These courses, conducted
just behind the lines, gave students
plenty of opportunity to practice on
real targets. Gradually, Army units, too,
set up their own schools in Korea.
Marine Staff Sgt. John Boitnot, a
sniper with the 5th Marine Regt., developed a novel tactic for picking off
Chinese snipers. This “deadly game,” as
the New York Times put it, involved Pvt.
Henry Friday of Nekoosa, Wis., purposely exposing himself to draw fire—which
Boitnot returned with uncanny accuracy. In two days, the deadeye Boitnot
killed nine Chinese snipers with nine
rounds, at distances from 670 to 1,250
yards. Once this hit the newspapers, of
course, their commander put a stop to it.
A great pre-war competitive marksman,
Boitnot was thought to be the most
accomplished Marine sniper of the war.
The greatest sniping innovation of the
Korean War was placing riflescopes atop
.50-caliber machine guns and firing
these massive slugs in single-shot mode.
This proved especially effective late in
the war, when fighting stabilized along
facing ridgelines with enemy positions
beyond the range of ordinary rifles. The
mighty “fifty” readily penetrated enemy
bunkers at 1,500 or more yards.
Vietnam: Honing a Skill
As quickly as the guns fell silent on the
38th Parallel in 1953, sniping again fell
by the wayside. When U.S. combat
forces deployed to South Vietnam 12
years later, neither the Army nor Marine
Corps had snipers or sniper schools.
There had been no improvement in
sniper weapons or optics since 1953.
As the need for snipers developed, the
3rd Marine Division created a 14-day
course near Da Nang in November 1965.
Some 78 snipers soon were trained, with
plans for one scout-sniper platoon in
Continued on page 18
ò
Top 9 Snipers in Vietnam
NAME
SERVICE
Adelbert Waldron III
Charles B. Mawhinney
Carlos Hathcock
Dennis Reed
Joseph T. Ward
Philip G. Moran
Tom Ferran
William Lucas
Gary J. Brown
Army
Marine Corps
Marine Corps
Army
Marine Corps
Army
Marine Corps
Army
Navy
CONFIRMED
KILLS
109
103
93
68
63
53
41
38
17
Source: Sniper: Training, Techniques
and Weapons by Peter Brookesmith, p. 43.
Stalkers and Shooters
ò Continued from page 16
each Marine infantry regiment.
The 1st Marine Division followed
suit, its school set up by 1st Lt. Edward
“Jim” Land, a longtime competitive rifle
shooter. One of Land’s instructors, the
soon-to-be-legendary Staff Sgt. Carlos
Hathcock, a year earlier had won the
Wimbledon Cup at the National Rifle
Association’s annual matches, making
him the country’s top 1,000-yard rifle
shooter. Initially, Marine snipers used
Model 70 Winchester target rifles with
target scopes.
An early Marine graduate, Lance
Cpl. Ronald Bundy of Decatur, Ill.,
soon demonstrated the kind of shooting for which scout-snipers are famous.
While supporting a Marine company,
Bundy spotted two Viet Cong snipersentries 800 yards away. With two shots
he dropped both, which sent a third VC
running, and he dropped him, too, at
500 yards—three rounds, and three
one-shot kills.
In 1967, the Marine Corps fielded a
new sniper rifle, a modified version of
the Remington Model 700 bolt-action,
which soon proved a reliable and accurate long-range weapon.
Army divisions, too, set up sniper
schools, with early courses run by the
1st Air Cavalry, 101st Airborne and
25th Infantry divisions. For lack of better weapons, these Army snipers were
issued obsolescent bolt-action Springfields and M-1D Garands or 3x scopes
on ordinary M-16s.
Finally, in 1968, the 9th Infantry
Division commander, Maj. Gen. Julian
18 • VFW • June/July 2009
Sgt. Chuck Mawhinney scored an impressive
103 kills, with another 216 probables during
the Vietnam War.
Ewell—who had commanded a paratroop battalion at the 1944 Battle of
Bastogne—brought in the Army’s finest
rifle instructors from the Army Marksmanship Training Unit at Fort Benning,
Ga.
The resulting course produced 72 formally trained snipers who were armed
with a new weapon, a specially accurized version of the semi-auto M-14 rifle
and a scope that instantly reset for deadon shooting from 100 to 900 meters.
Called the XM-21 System, 9th Division snipers employed it across the
Mekong Delta’s flat, open paddies and
wetlands to rack up impressive scores,
not simply by sniping but by employing
silencer-equipped rifles and night vision
devices, too.
In April 1969 alone, Ewell’s snipers
achieved 346 confirmed kills. “The
most effective single program we had
was the sniper program,” he later wrote
with justifiable pride. The 9th Division
sniper program soon was replicated by
the 25th, 101st and 23rd divisions,
which fielded hundreds of XM-21armed snipers across the country.
The Vietnam War generated three
especially accomplished American
snipers. The best-known was Marine
Gunnery Sgt. Carlos Hathcock, whose
combat achievements and continuing
legacy place him among history’s greatest snipers. In Vietnam, the keen-eyed
Arkansan achieved 93 confirmed kills,
thought by many to have been the most
of the war (see chart at left).
Years later, however, it was realized
that another Marine sniper, Sgt. Chuck
Mawhinney, an Oregon native, had
scored 10 more confirmed kills, plus
another 216 “probables.”
However, the overall highest number
of confirmed kills went to an Army
sniper, Staff Sgt. Adelbert Waldron, one
of Ewell’s Mekong Delta snipers. In
addition to being credited with 109
kills, Waldron also was the war’s most
highly decorated sniper, twice receiving
the nation’s second highest award, the
Distinguished Service Cross.
For all that was learned in Vietnam, a
familiar pattern followed: Marine and
Army sniper slots, sniper schools and all
the institutional knowledge simply went
away after our war ended in 1973. This
pattern, however, soon would change. J
Next Month: Part II: Afghanistan and
Iraq snipers show their skills.
JOHN L. PLASTER,
a retired Army major
and three-tour vet of the Studies and
Observations Group in Vietnam (196971), is the author of two books on that
elite unit. He also instructed snipers.
Editor’s Note: Information for this article
was drawn from John Plaster’s new book,
The History of Sniping & Sharpshooting,
available directly from the author at
www.ultimatesniper.com or 1-888-2580626, or the publisher at www.paladinpress.com, 1-800-392-2400.
Texas-Mexico
Border
On June 16, 1919, the U.S. Army fought a battle with Mexican
revolutionaries in and around Ciudad Juarez, Mexico. It included the
last major use of a wholly American cavalry unit in mounted combat,
and was the last action to qualify for the Mexican Service Medal.
by Daniel P. Gillotti
C
iudad Juarez, Mexico, in
2009 is once again a battleground. Fighting between
the Mexican army and drug cartels has yet
to spill across the border, but the possibility clearly exists. Still, there was a time in
the early 20th century when the border
between Texas and Mexico took on the
trappings of the “Wild West.” It was like
something out of the 1969 Hollywood
movie The Wild Bunch focusing on the
Mexican Revolution (1910-20).
Ninety years ago, cross-border shooting into neighboring El Paso, Texas,
prompted a brief punitive expedition
(3,600 troops) ranging 15 miles into the
30 • VFW • June/July 2009
The U.S. Army assembled a
Mexican state of Chihuahua. It held little
martial glory, but it earned a niche in the formidable force across the Rio Grande
River. At its core, it consisted of the 2nd
annals of American military history.
By 1919, Mexican revolutionary tur- Cavalry Brigade, including squadrons of
moil had been under way for nine years. the 7th and 5th Cavalry regiments. Both
One faction was led by Francisco the brigade and the 7th Cav were commanded by the flamboyant Col.
“Pancho” Villa, notorious to
Selah R.H. “Tommy” Tompkins,
Americans for killing 16 U.S.
among the last of a dying breed
citizens in Columbus, N.M., in
of old-time horse soldiers.
1916. Though severely weakThe 24th Infantry Regiment,
ened, Villa’s 4,000 men (known
82nd Field Artillery (FA), 8th
as
Villistas)
nonetheless
attacked government troops
Engineers (two mounted bat(Carrancistas) in Juarez, dragtalions), one company of the
Insignia of the 7th Field Signal Battalion, one
ging Texas-based U.S. soldiers
82nd Field Artillery battalion of the 9th Engineers, a
into the fray.
The 82nd Field Artillery returns from
Juarez, Mexico on June 16, 1919, after
firing on Pancho Villa’s rebel army.
PHOTOS COURTESY DANIEL GILOTTI
field hospital and a searchlight section
of the 8th Engineers emplaced on the
mesa above El Paso High School rounded out the force.
‘Attack, Pursue, Disperse’
In early June, U.S. commanders received
indications that Villa was moving his
rebel forces north to attack the Mexican
military troops at Ft. Hidalgo near
Juarez. The Army chief of staff ordered
Army Maj. Gen. De Rosey Cabell, commanding the Southern Department, to
cross the border and disperse Villa’s
troops if they fired into El Paso. But U.S.
troops could penetrate no farther than
15 miles into Mexico.
Villa, incidentally, dismissed the threat
of U.S. military intervention, saying he
had enough bullets to fight off the
Americans.
On June 12, James B. Erwin, commander of the Military District of El Paso
(and former leader of the 7th Cavalry
Regiment), received orders to: “Attack,
pursue and disperse Villistas wherever
found.” He immediately ordered the
24th Infantry Regiment, led by Col. G.
Arthur Hadsell, to Ft. Bliss. The next day,
reports indicated Villa was advancing on
Juarez and had stopped to regroup at El
Barro.
The attack on Ft. Hidalgo, in the hills
overlooking Juarez, on the morning of
June 15 was followed by another assault
by Villistas in a separate part of the city.
The battle raged back and forth for most
of the day.
Rebel snipers foolishly began shooting
across the Rio Grande River into El Paso,
wounding several civilians. Erwin reported an investigation “showing that shots
undoubtedly coming from Villistas had
been fired into El Paso.” Simultaneously,
scores of scared Mexican civilians began
surging across the border into the U.S. for
safety.
The 82nd FA, converted from the 24th
Cavalry in 1917, consisted of approximately 495 men. It deployed with Headquarters Company, the 1st Battalion with
batteries A and B, the 2nd Battalion with
batteries C and D, and the 3rd Battalion
with batteries E and F.
The 2nd Battalion
joined the 2nd Cavalry
Brigade as direct support
artillery. Artillery was
positioned in the Union
stockyards, Camp Cotton
and the El Paso Milling
Co. at the Stanton Street
Bridge.
During the remainder
of the evening, snipers
on the Mexican side of
the river actively fired toward 82nd
headquarters. Pvt. Sam Tusco was killed
at 10:30 p.m. by a ricocheting sniper
round that entered the command post
at the El Paso Union Stockyards. Three
other soldiers were wounded at the
Santa Fe Bridge.
Artillery in Action
The 24th Infantry, 5th Cav, 7th Cav, the
2nd Bn., 82nd FA, and supporting engineer and medical troops crossed into
Mexico at 11:00 p.m. Crossing at the
Santa Fe Street Bridge, the 24th Infantry
advanced with bayonets fixed.
At 12:30 a.m., Battery A, 1st Bn., fired
the first 75mm howitzer round across
the Rio Grande River into the Juarez
Racetrack. It was followed by 52 shrapnel rounds over a half hour.
“Shrapnel shells were bursting over
and around the race track grandstand
at the rate of three a minute from 12:30
a.m. until 1:00 a.m.,” reported the El
Paso Times.
Meanwhile, the 5th and 7th Cav regiments with the support of the 2nd Bn.,
82nd FA, were moving as a blocking
force on either side of the infantry to
prevent any flanking movements by the
Villistas. By 6:50 a.m., most of the fighting within the town had subsided.
U.S. forces pursued the Villistas who
were trying to leave Juarez. Some six
miles into Mexico, the 82nd opened fire
with shrapnel on their column at a
range of about 4,000 yards.
A direct hit was made with the first
volley of 75mm howitzer rounds.
Shrapnel bursting overhead in the center of the rebel column wiped out a
complete section. The other two sections of Villistas were routed and scattered in all directions. This action was
completed around 9 a.m. by Battery D.
During the pursuit, an adobe shack
took a direct hit. The bodies of
25 killed and wounded Villistas
were found in the debris.
Pvt. Sam Tusco was
killed by a ricocheting
sniper round that entered
the command post.
‘Scattered Like Quail’
Meanwhile, down river, the cavalry
brigade had crossed at three fords. But it
was not until 9:10 a.m. that it attacked
the main Villista force west of Zaragoza.
Cavalrymen engaged the enemy for no
more than a half hour. The hostile
Mexicans broke and fled rather quickly—they “scattered like quail” in the
words of Tompkins. Pursued to the 15mile limit, the Villistas disappeared by
noon. The last troopers were out of
Mexico by 5 p.m. that day.
“Under the shattering impact of the
American artillery and the pistols of the
American troopers, they vanished, leaving some 200 of their number lying
June/July 2009 • WWW.VFW.ORG • 31
motionless in the fields and through the
mesquite,” wrote Clarence Clendenen
in Blood on the Border.
On the return march, more than 50
abandoned Mexican saddles, 300 horses
and burros, and 100 rifles were found
scattered all over the area. Some of the
rifles were German made.
The colorful description above may
be a bit melodramatic. Because of irrigation ditches, the 1st Squadron of the
7th Cav had to dismount to fight. The
5th Cav pursued the fleeing Villistas at
full gallop, losing 40 horses dead due to
sheer exhaustion, according to one
account. Reportedly, the Villista body
count was only four KIA along with
eight wounded, at least because of the
cavalry. One trooper, Sgt. Peter Chigas
of the 7th Cav, died of his wounds.
In honor of the two Americans killed,
the War Department named the camps
at El Paso Peter Chigas and Sam Tusco.
Juarez is often called the last “charge”
of the U.S. Cavalry in American history.
That distinction, however, actually
belongs to the 300 troopers who participated in the Aug. 18-24, 1919, incursion.
Cavalrymen of the 5th and 8th Cavalry
regiments rode 50 miles into Mexico
pursuing bandits who had kidnapped
and held for ransom two U.S. aviators.
Oddly enough, though, the veterans
of the August excursion would not
receive the VFW-qualifying Mexican
Service Medal, for which eligibility
ended with the Battle of Juarez on June
16, 1919.
By then, Villa was largely spent:
“Popular support in Chihuahua had
shrunk significantly in 1918-19,”
Friedrich Katz wrote in The Life and
Times of Pancho Villa. “Increasing warweariness and the atrocities committed
by Villa had alienated important segments of the population.”
As the crisis along the west Texas border with Mexico escalates, this forgotten
chapter in history offers an interesting
martial episode with at least passing
modern-day relevance.
J
DANIEL P. GILLOTTI,
a retired Army 1st
sergeant from Sheffield Village, Ohio, is
the historian of the 30th and 82nd Field
Artillery regiments, a Vietnam veteran
and a VFW life member of Post 1079.
32 • VFW • June/July 2009
Unraveling the
Mystery
OF
PTSD
New treatments and
technologies are being
pioneered to care for combatinduced psychological stress.
A research arm of the San
Francisco VA is leading the way.
by Leslie Mladinich
hen Vietnam War Navy veteran Max
Gabriel came home from the Mekong
Delta in 1970, the symptoms of what would later be
identified as post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)
W
began immediately.
He cried frequently, entertained thoughts of suicide, and shut out loved
ones. While relaxing with his family, a car backfired outside his window and he
dove under his dining room table. One night, thinking the enemy was sleeping
next to him, he punched his wife.
Today, Gabriel tries to reach out to Iraq and Afghanistan veterans coping
with this disorder so they can get the help that he didn’t. As a veterans
group volunteer with the National Alliance on Mental Illness’s New York
state chapter, Gabriel encounters few veterans who openly admit to having PTSD. Those who do tell him they have a hard time getting help.
“I don’t see the treatment for PTSD being moved along at a steady
pace,” he said. “I still feel it is lagging behind.” Iraq and Afghanistan
veterans, just like those from his era, aren’t running to VA for help,
he says. “They are not looking at the VA as an authority.”
By using advanced technology, endorsing alternative treatments
and training staff in new forms of therapy, VA says it’s trying to get on
34 • VFW • June/July 2009
BARRIE MAGUIRE/NEWSART.COM
PHOTO COURTESY MAX GABRIEL
top of the disorder that, according to a
2008 Rand Corporation report, will
affect 14% of Iraq and Afghanistan veterans. Combat veterans are the toughest
population to treat, according to a 2008
Institute of Medicine report.
Finding Biological Roots
Although PTSD symptoms are characterized as psychological—including
nightmares, flashbacks, sleeplessness,
emotional numbness and hypervigilance—researchers are learning that
PTSD has physiological roots.
Imaging the brains of PTSD sufferers
with the strongest MRI (magnetic resonance imaging) magnet in the country
is part of a $25 million project in San
Francisco through the Northern California Institute of Research and EduVietnam vet Max Gabriel had such vivid nightmares that he once punched his wife,
cation (NCIRE), a nonprofit research
Deborah, thinking she was the enemy. As a result of his own experiences, Gabriel
arm of the San Francisco VA Medical
works as a volunteer with returning Afghanistan and Iraq veterans.
Center.
NCIRE supports a project called the
Neuroscience Center of Excellence that have helped enlarge the hippocampus.
This could potentially provide informaIt’s too early to publish specific results tion as to who is at high risk of negativestudies PTSD across the fields of psychiatry, neurology, radiology and rehabilita- of the NCIRE studies, but “there are addi- ly reacting to extreme stress versus who
tion with funding from the Department tional findings that we are trying to clari- has a higher resilience.
fy that represent a significant advance as
of Defense.
Neylan says the medical community
PTSD is both a mental and physical to what has been previously published,” is years away from those answers, and
condition, not one or the other. Imaging Neylan says. Neylan’s optimistic that that the information wouldn’t be used
the brain of a veteran suffering from more precise imaging of the brain will to exclude service members.
PTSD tells a story just like
“No single finding will have a tremenimaging the brain of
dous amount of specificity,” according to
someone who has had
Neylan. “But we envision a panel of risk
four hours of sleep rather • 178,483 Iraq and Afghanistan veterans have
factors collectively that have a stronger
than a healthier eight, says
rate of predicting who will be resilient.”
been diagnosed with possible mental disorders.
Dr. Thomas Neylan, lead
Adds Dr. Scott Orr, co-author of the
researcher on the NCIRE • 92,998, or 52% of those, with PTSD.
Vietnam twins study, “We hope one of
• 63,009, or 35%, with depressive disorder.
project.
the outcomes is better treatment.”
Although a veteran may
Treatment Now
not be having a PTSD episode at the time, lead to better treatment someday.
the imaging still shows the brain is slightLikewise, researchers at the VA Medical Doctors and veterans agree that some VA
ly different than a veteran who doesn’t Center in Manchester, N.H., have imaged clinics have difficulties with helping vetsuffer the same symptoms.
Vietnam War era veteran twins, one erans get well. Medications that treat
If the brain has biological markers, it exposed to combat and the other unex- conditions from depression to insomnia
may help destigmatize PTSD as a men- posed. The study found reduced hippo- have been used for PTSD, along with psytal disorder and hopefully encourage campus size in veterans who developed chological counseling. But these pracveterans and troops on active duty to PTSD and in their twin brothers. In other tices do not always solve the problem.
“I think the biological models are
get prescreened, several of the doctors words, combat may have brought out the
interviewed for this article said.
PTSD, but the physiological wiring of the important and provide hope, but how
The NCIRE study confirms results brother in combat may have made him does that translate to a guy who has
given two years of his life in Iraq?” asks
from other studies on an important area more susceptible to it.
More sophisticated prescreening pro- Dr. Ken Duckworth, head of the
of the brain that stores memories and
emotion—the hippocampus. Studies grams in the future could involve imag- National Association on Mental Illness.
have shown veterans who suffer from ing the brain before a military member “On the ground, most people don’t get
PTSD have smaller hippocampuses. is assigned a duty, as a result of some of the basic help that they need.”
Duckworth says he hears of wait lists,
Some drugs now used to treat PTSD these research outcomes, Neylan says.
As of Sept. 30, 2008:
June/July 2009 • WWW.VFW.ORG • 35
VA Trying New Treatments
VA defends its care for PTSD.
Dr. Antonette Zeiss, a clinical psychologist and VA Office of Mental Health
Services deputy chief in Washington,
D.C., says the system has 18,000 mental
health staffers, including 4,000 who have
been added in the last three to four years.
Crisis cases are seen within 24 hours, and
others within 14 days, she emphasizes.
“We have set the criterion that 95%
need to be seen within that time frame,”
she says. “Nationally, we exceed that
expectation. It is far beyond anything
the private sector could claim and it
indicates we are getting people in and
getting them into the health system.”
While interested in the new technology San Francisco is using, Zeiss says it’s
“our passion to ensure the current
research knowledge actually gets implemented. We are at a point where there
36 • VFW • June/July 2009
minds have pushed back.
One example could be a veteran
who avoids narrow hallways because
they remind him or her of where the
traumatic experience occurred and
promote a feeling of danger. In PE,
the veteran would imagine being in
the situation, as well as being physically exposed to a safe hallway, so that
the mind could start to process and
confront some of the thoughts that
had been avoided.
If these therapies aren’t available at
a local VA, a veteran can request to
find a VA or other medical facility
where they are available, Karlin says.
Therapy also is taking shape in
unconventional forms, including the
Pentagon funding yoga, meditation
and nutrition counseling to alleviate
Iraq vet Sgt. Stephen Edwards, shown here
symptoms.
with his daughter, Lauren, found the treatment
Dog therapy falls under this
at VA fell short of expectations.
umbrella. Paws for Purple Hearts
started at the Menlo Park VA last year
are very effective treatments for PTSD.” and expanded to Walter Reed Army
About 1,900 mental health staffers Medical Center in February 2009. The
have been trained in one or both of two program allows PTSD-afflicted vetercutting-edge therapies: cognitive pro- ans to train service dogs that will evencessing therapy (CPT) and prolonged tually help disabled veterans.
Marine Sgt. David McMullen, who was
exposure (PE) therapy.
In CPT, a veteran is asked to recall a with F Co., 2nd Bn., 23rd Marines, and
specific event that is triggering feelings Weapons Co., 2nd Bn., 1st Marines, is in
such as guilt and shame, says Dr. Bradley the third class of dog trainers in Menlo
Karlin, the Veterans Health Admin- Park. McMullen says he noticed veterans
istration’s director of psychotherapy and in the dog program progressing faster.
“I was having nightmares almost every
psychogeriatrics in the Office of Mental
Health Services. He gives the example of night,” he said. “I am now on only one
a soldier who had fired his weapon from sleep medicine and the nightmares are
a checkpoint at civilians and later feels not as frequent. I think that is a huge
step.” McMullen served a cumulative
extreme guilt and shame.
“The patient would learn how to take nine months in Iraq between March
a step back and evaluate thoughts and 2003 and September 2006.
Other veteran-trainers report that
see the situation as it occurred in the
moment,” he says. Patients replace guilt- anger outbursts and hypervigilance were
laden thoughts with a more balanced lessened because of the program.
“It helps you with everything you can
interpretation of the situation such as:
‘It was a means of last resort to protect think of,” adds Josh Sharp, an Iraq War
myself in a moment requiring sudden Army veteran who served on duty from
2002 to 2008.
response where lives were in danger.’ ”
One of the reasons the biological keys
In PE therapy, veterans who are
avoiding emotionally processing a situ- to PTSD are so important is because
ation engage in imaginary exposure each veteran responds differently to
exercises in a safe therapeutic environ- treatment. The research now under way
ment. They also confront safe situations in San Francisco and elsewhere promises
J
that remind them of the traumatic situ- to unlock these mysteries.
ation they are avoiding. The exposure
allows them to start the important pro- LESLIE MLADINICH is a San Francisco
cess of dealing with feelings of fear their Bay Area-based freelance writer.
PHOTO COURTESY STEPHEN EDWARDS
not enough beds, and trouble accessing
the best medications. “Basically, systems that aren’t funded to do the right
job,” he said.
Consequently, some veterans have
given up on the VA.
Sgt. Stephen Edwards, in the Army
two years and then the National Guard
for 13 years, went through three months
of PTSD rehabilitation in Menlo Park,
Calif., at the Palo Alto VA. Edwards, who
served with the 1st Infantry Division
stationed in Balad from 2004 to 2005,
says raiding houses in the heart of the
Sunni Triangle or dodging friendly fire
caused his psychological problems.
Although he thinks some of the VA
staff was great, he feels members didn’t
function as a cohesive unit.
Edwards says doctors were unwilling
to consider surgery to relieve his chronic
neck pain and insensitive when he said
he contemplated suicide. After a while,
the structured therapy didn’t work for
him, either.
“It was very military,” remarked
Edwards. “You had to get up at a certain
time, eat at a certain time, and watch TV
at a certain time. So close to being out of
the military, it was OK and it didn’t bother me. It wasn’t too much of a change. But
could I do it again? No. Their ideas and
rules need to be updated.” He’s now getting help at a private care facility founded
by a former VA doctor.