Alex Lepe
Half a percent of the American populace has served active military duty at any given point since 9/11. This while America has been engaged in the longest war in our nation's history. The past 13 years have seen Operation Enduring Freedom, Operation Iraqi Freedom, and Operation New Dawn (OEF, OIF, and OND, respectively) and the involvement of some 2 million American soldiers. As with soldiers in past conflicts, those who served during this time, whether in overseas combat or in support positions stateside, have left the military profoundly changed by their experience. Coming home is at once a relief and a terrifying prospect: Veterans face a return to a civilian world at odds with the strictly regulated military life to which they are accustomed. Navigating their own perceptions of the service, the impact the service had on their lives, and the stereotypes projected on them by civilians who can't and perhaps don't want to understand is a whole new type of battle.
It's tough to be in between soldier and civilian and to see what lies on both sides of what freedom means.
Reintegration
At 19, Mike Prado didn't know what he wanted from life. Whereas the high school stars, the quarterbacks and valedictorians, had confidently gone to college, he was still looking for the self-driven purpose they seemed to have found. So, when an Army of One commercial came on TV, Prado felt the call. Ready for the kind of personal responsibility and purpose-driven direction the commercial promised, Prado enlisted within the month, "ready to rock and roll."
Alex Lepe
Fast forward through basic training, an intense four-month military education as a medic, an assignment to a cavalry combat unit, a nine-month tour in Iraq establishing a visible U.S. presence, a year's reprieve back home, and a second tour of duty in the area known as the "triangle of death" just south of Baghdad, carrying out humanitarian missions like providing schools, water and safety to villages in the area but also dealing with guerrilla warfare and IEDs, and Prado knew he wanted out.
It wasn't that he regretted enlisting - he had served his country, found purpose and discipline, and internalized core values he still lives by today. Honesty, integrity, a code of honor, camaraderie with his fellow soldiers - these were the good things.
But with a war that didn't look like it was ending anytime soon, Prado knew he didn't want to spend every other year in a foreign country. What he didn't count on, what no soldier counts on, is the battle he would face during the transition from military to civilian life.
Like many of his fellow soldiers, Prado returned home to find that his wife had left him for another partner. Because crowds made him nervous and anxious, he didn't like to spend time in the city or go out in public. PTSD hindered his plans of pursuing a career in sports medicine - it reminded him too much of his service. At 20, he had been made responsible for the health of between 30 and 40 soldiers, offering everything from basic health care to the simple psychiatric service of a shoulder to cry on. Prado treated gunshot wounds, broken bones and blast injuries - sometimes so bad Prado and his crew had to pick up "meat" from the side of the road and put it in bags so the family would have something of their soldier to bury.
Prado had spent six years of his life doing a hard job few could understand or handle, often in a foreign country far from home and family. When he came back, he spent four months living in a rented trailer on ranch land, taking a break from the world and trying to figure out how he would live in the familiar world he was now a stranger to.
Rehabilitation
Alex Lepe
With integrity, commitment, advocacy, respect, and excellence (together, the five core values are I CARE), the Veterans Administration aims to live out its mission statement: "To fulfill President Lincoln's promise "To care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan" by serving and honoring the men and women who are America's Veterans."
Upgraded to a Cabinet-level department within the United States government in 1988, the VA has seen its budget increase nearly 300 percent over the last quarter century. Encompassing the Veterans Benefits Administration, Veterans Health Administration, and National Cemetery Administration, the VA offers medical "points of care" in the forms of medical centers, Vet Centers, community-based outpatient clinics among other programs dedicated to education, vocational training, housing and homeless assistance.
That's a lot of money, a lot of power and a lot of resources. But, on the other hand, there are a lot of veterans that need these programs. Of Gulf War-era II veterans (any individual who served on active duty in the U.S. Armed Forces after September 2001), 9 percent are unemployed, 29 percent report a service-connected disability, and veterans make up between one-fourth and one-fifth of the homeless population.
Shrink that picture down to the North Texas area, where 23,282 veterans arrived in just the 24 months prior to July 2014, and it is easy to see why the VA complex in Dallas, at 84 acres, is the second largest in the country. The OEF/OIF/OND Program at the VA North Texas coordinates medical and psychiatric care for returning combat veterans and provides case management services, connecting them to department and community services, to job fairs, rehabilitation programs, counseling, homeless programs, and more.
"There is an adjustment period, so one of the things we try to do is to ease that adjustment period," Betty Edwards, program manager, said. "The military is a different way of life than civilian life. A lot of times when they serve in military and then come home, things are not the way they left them, and so they have to adjust to those changes. Multiple deployments factor into the challenges for maintaining stability for families. We try to help people put the pieces back together the best way to help them function and move forward."
These adjustment services were introduced as a way to improve upon the post-Vietnam era U.S. "Previous war veterans were complaining about a disconnect and that they weren't getting the care they needed, so all VA medical centers have a program like [the OEF/OIF/OND Program for returning combat veterans] and work with the military in providing VA care to make sure there is no lapse in care and the same quality of care is ongoing," Edwards said.
Of course, not all veterans want to come home from their term of service and immediately begin navigating the complex bureaucracy that is the VA. For those service members, Vet Centers were created, offering counseling, rehabilitation, employment services and more to any veteran who "served in a warzone or area of hostility and their families, family members who experienced an active duty death and veterans of any era who have experienced any form of military sexual trauma or harassment."
Joel Chaverri, a veteran of OIF himself and a licensed critical social worker and readjustment counselor working at the Tarrant County Vet Center, has been with the system for eight years. "There have been a lot of changes [in that time]. One of the big changes is adding more marriage and family therapists; we recognized a lot of vets coming back have not just their own issues. If you want to take care of a vet, you have to take care of their support system too."
Alex Lepe
This awareness of veterans and their needs is something the staff at the VA centers is very proud of. They've worked in the system long enough that they have actually seen shortcomings fixed and met. No system is perfect or 100 percent successful, but the VA is trying. Veterans need more reemployment services? Done. Veterans need more counseling services? Done. Veterans need better housing assistance? Done.
But this responsiveness, while great and necessary, also causes problems. Chaverri, who has been on both sides of the soldier-civilian curtain, remembers his own last days in the military. "I just wanted to leave. When I got out of Iraq, I sat in a room with a PowerPoint, with a presentation that explained all my VA benefits, but all that was on my mind was getting back with my family."
Eight years later, Chaverri is one of the many making presentations to the weary and ready-for-home men and women. "Every member of the military who gets off active duty or back from deployment goes through some transition briefing or class to help them transition to civilian life." Chaverri and other Vet Center counselors join representatives from a bevy of veteran services organizations to give presentations on what they do, how to get access to the program and how to enroll. These VA representatives do their best to engage the presentees and answer questions, but when making presentations to anywhere from a dozen to 300 transitioning soldiers, it's hard. "There are so many benefits out there, just so many programs and organizations, that you only get five to 10 minutes to let them know, "Hey, this is what we do at the Vet Center" and the hospital only has five to 10 minutes and so on."
The military spends a lot of time and money training soldiers to do their jobs: six to nine weeks of basic training, between three weeks and two years of advanced training, and continual training sessions and field practice over the course of their service. The transition back to civilian life involves somewhat less preparation. The soldiers interviewed in this story described a five-day period packed with information sessions covering everything from resume building to the services they are entitled to as veterans.
"You go through this out-processing and these classes, and they give you these pamphlets and brochures, and three things are going through our mind: "I'm tired," "I want to go home," and "Can we just finish this?" " Cristina Mungilla, 33, National Guard veteran, said. "I think that part of the problem with vets is, yes, there's stuff out there, but where do you start? They all sound like the same thing. You get lost. You really do."
"At the time [I got out], the army was still unprepared for the needs of the new veterans versus your Vietnam vets," Prado, now 31, said. "They were rolling out new programs, but those weren't beneficial yet. There was so much bureaucracy and red tape that they weren't worth doing. Were options there? Yes. Were they easily obtained? No, not even close."
Chaverri and his colleagues recognize this, which is why they place so much emphasis on outreach. Hitting up job fairs, benefit fairs, college campuses, even motorcycle festivals-anywhere veterans might be found-VA representatives try to find veterans and let them know the full extent of services available to them. There are the VA hospitals, 300 Vet Centers all across the country and its territories, and even 70 mobile vet centers bringing counseling services to the front door of veterans and family members.
Alex Lepe
And then there's the problem of how you treat veterans for problems they don't want to admit to having. Or maybe they just haven't slowed down enough to realize they need help. Or maybe they are afraid to take time and care away from their comrades. During the transition services out-processing, soldiers are asked if they have had "nightmares, experienced trauma, or saw anyone killed," Chaverri said. "They'll say no just to get out of there faster. That is something about the military mindset is that they don't want to appear weak, as if saying they need help is weak-which it's not. I know a lot of people say to me they don't want to take a benefit because they feel like they are taking it from someone else. In that sense, you see these guys are so dedicated to each other-I'm not a hero; that guy's a hero-in a sense it's humility, but it's also that they are a hero. Those people are heroes; they did serve their country. They do deserve benefits, and they aren't taking benefits or appointments from someone else. I find it so frustrating; I just want to shake them and say, "You deserve this too!" "
The military lifestyle is a beast in and of itself. Surviving day to day requires an entirely different set of skills than those necessary or even valuable to making it in civilian life. Many who join are young and idealistic, wanting to serve their country and travel, or they are joining to change their prospects, whether they have a child or thousands of dollars in debt.
Elyana Ramirez joined the Navy because they offered to pay back $40,000 in student loans. At 21, she was handed the opportunity to be financially stable and to pursue work she cared about, as a lithographer publishing the stories of enlisted sailors.
But, due to military restructuring, she was forced to pick a new job during basic training. She was constantly at sea, away from family and loved ones. When her service was up, she had no job leads or school prospects lined up-deployed up to two weeks before her separation date, Ramirez had completed her transition out-processing months before and not only did the information not stick, but she hadn't had the time to make plans once she was out. Drinking and swearing were givens within the Navy culture. She hadn't really dated or started a family during her time because of how rampant she noticed the rates were for divorce and adultery. And Ramirez had gotten hard-"I was a lot tougher. I say that because I didn't want to be looked at by my coworkers as another girl that couldn't hold her own weight. And that was another way that I was able to put myself in a position not to be assaulted, especially sexually because that's a huge problem in the military. I had more of an edge to me, definitely."
"Sometimes it's frustrating because [civilians] have these assumptions that you've maybe killed someone or have PTSD, but they don't know what that is. They don't understand because they haven't been exposed to the life. They only know what they've heard. That's why I sometimes feel it is my responsibility to open up to civilians and share stories and answer questions and help them realize some of the things they've heard are not always true."
This sentiment is a common refrain from veterans and VA representatives alike. There's a break between what civilians conceptualize about soldiers and what reality is. This is why veterans like Prado take four months to get away from the world-they need the time to recover and decompress from their experiences away from the assumptions they come up against every day.
"There is a certain mentality that comes from having served that the general public just can't relate to," Mungilla said. "You're coming back to civilian life, which is a culture shock even though you were a part of it." She recalls speaking to a retention NCO who commented that many separating service members would be coming back. Civilian life is chaotic, there is a lot of freedom veterans aren't quite used to, and the support often found amongst your battalion is gone.
And while stereotyping the experience of individual soldiers is a serious problem-veterans can face workplace prejudice from employers afraid they will "snap," have to field questions about whether they "killed someone," and sometimes have to deal with political extremists who assume they agree 100 percent with every mission they carried out-some of the national news stories about the military do reverberate, even here.
Stories of grossly under-investigated sexual assaults resonate with Ramirez's time aboard the U.S. Berry, where three or four instances of sexual assault occurred. But if a higher-ranked officer committed the assault, they would be transferred to a new ship and a fresh start, while the victim would be stuck on the old ship with everyone aware of what happened.
Mungilla's account of the Fort Worth Outpatient Clinic-VA North Texas Health Care System is uncomfortably reminiscent to recent scandal surrounding VA hospital efficacy. "You can't just call and get an appointment. You have to call and say you're sick and then the nurse calls within 72 hours and decides if you a need a visit over the phone, and that is if you get them to call you back." It isn't all bad-veterans get doctor's visits, checkups and pills for free, and female veterans' primary doctors double as their OB/GYNs. The issue is with the number of veterans utilizing the services. For instance, the Fort Worth Clinic services all of North Texas. The VA has set up systems, like the online personal health record My HealtheVet, to address certain complaints, but the fact remains that seeing a different doctor for every visit can be disconcerting and lead to oversight.
And mental health, while treated very seriously and conscientiously by those with the VA, still carries a stigma that prevents many from seeking services. "The biggest lack [in services] was the mental health aspect, and that's still going on today," Prado said. "Nobody's prepared for somebody who has seen these horrific things and then released back into the civilian world. That's one reason why the suicide rate is so high; I think everybody would be lying if they said they didn't have issues when they got back." Admitting to problems like PTSD, depression, anxiety and more is hard for many veterans. Talking about and seeking help are even harder, which is why the services the VA offers in counseling and rehabilitation are so crucial-a 2013 Department of Veterans Affairs study reported the staggering statistic that 22 veterans committed suicide every day and active duty suicides have jumped 30 percent since 2008. But the services aren't available to everybody who needs them.
Mungilla served eight years in the National Guard, and, though she was never sent overseas, she was stop-lossed and activated for OIF. She was forced to drop everything-a part-time job, part-time school, and full-time motherhood were put aside as she prepared for Iraq at Fort Hood. Within a month, Mungilla's fiancé had cheated on her, and her toddler wouldn't speak to her, unable to understand why her mom had left. She quickly fell into a severe depression. Though not fit for active duty overseas, Mungilla served with a group of 30 guardsmen in a rear detachment supporting the forward unit. As a member of headquarters' personnel, Mungilla supported pay issues, family issues, and casualty operations. It was a lot of responsibility and a lot of emotionally-tasking work. But, because Mungilla never served in a combat zone, she was and is not eligible for many veterans' services.
"I didn't go overseas, but it really rocked my world with issues like PTSD." It took nine years, twins, the death of her grandmother, and near homelessness before Mungilla said she began to feel control of her life again.
Reflection
Not everybody who is in the military is grappling with just issues of how to take advantage of available services and programs. Some are grappling with the very fundamentals of what they did while they were in the service.
Austin Denny, 26, saw both sides of the military coin growing up-his dad and stepdad both served during the Vietnam War. But whereas his dad developed severe PTSD, became an alcoholic, and left when Denny was still a toddler, his stepdad was a present, attentive man who somehow found a way to cope with being shot at. When Denny found out he would be the father to twin boys at 19, he joined the Air Force, hoping the military life would also provide insight into his family history.
Denny did well. His high aptitude for language led him to work in a classified position in a joint service environment. Though there were periods of on-base deployment-when war or international conflict broke out, Denny and his colleagues would lead exhausting 15-day marathon shifts punctuated only by four-hour naps on a cot-he was never sent overseas.
Denny got out so he could spend more time with his boys, who by then lived in North Texas with their mom. But in the years before and after separating, his college courses and personal research led him to question the institution he had given four years of his life to.
"It is so much more complicated than it used to be. Now veterans can't say with as much certainty that what they were doing was 100 percent the right thing. After joining and doing more research, I found I disagreed pretty strongly with a lot of what we were doing, but it's tough in the military because you can't express those opinions. It's actually illegal to say you disagree with an operation."
Bottom line? Every veteran, no matter what stage of transition they are in, has a unique experience. Some loved their time in the service and feel as though they grew in maturity and life experience. Some question their participation in a powerful institution too big to fully comprehend. Some experience PTSD. Some are just fine.
No soldier shares his or her exact experience or reaction with any other soldier. But they do share the fact of experience. As Chaverri recalled: "I was at an outreach event one time, and there was a picture on a display board from a veteran in Iraq. A Vietnam vet walked up to me and looked at the pic and said, "You know, it's a different year, but it's the same faces." "
Where AreThey Now?
Mike Prado, 31 After attending Police Academy at Lamar University, Prado has worked as a police officer in Liberty Hill, Knox, as a security guard for the Omni Hotel in Fort Worth and now lives and works in San Saba as a police officer. Prado plans to continue his career in law enforcement and see where it takes him.
Elyana Ramirez, 30 President of TCU's Student Veterans Alliance, Ramirez is gearing up to launch the Annual Ribbon Campaign in addition to her duties as President of Chi Upsilon Sigma National Latin Sorority, Inc. and vice president of Programming for the TCU Ad Association. Ramirez will graduate in May with a Strategic Communications major, Business minor. She hopes to pursue a lifelong dream of working for Disney in marketing and communications or continue her newfound passion of helping veterans achieve academic success.
Austin Denny, 26 Denny and his wife, Tiffany, are new business owners. They began work on 3Tree Yoga, a community-oriented yoga studio, more than a year ago. They have just leased a location (620 S. Jennings in the Near Southside) and begun construction, with an aim to be open this November. Denny will receive his MBA through the Neeley program in 2016, at which point he plans to look into social entrepreneurship.
Cristina Mungilla, 33 Mungilla keeps herself busy as a senior Strategic Communications, Business and Communications double minor, as well as a committee member for Fort Worth's Walk to End Alzheimer's and vice president of Public Relations for TCU Toastmasters. It is her work for the campus Veterans Services Task Force (VSTF) that she most hopes to continue after receiving her diploma. Mungilla hopes to join TCU's faculty to develop a stronger support program for student veterans.
