I'm Sad, Too. And Disturbed. But Mostly, Angry.

I haven't published on LinkedIn in a couple weeks since I've been focused on the fiction side of the house. But I still lurk once or twice a day and can't help scrolling for a minute or two; that's how I came upon this article published in The New York Times Magazine on June 19th.

The poster who referenced the article didn't link to it directly because "it makes [him] sad." I have no interest in naming or shaming, though I have to say that I both agree and disagree--the article is saddening and we're obliged to share it.

Let's consider this paragraph for starters; writer Janet Reitman quotes a friend and comrade of the late SPC Austin Valley:

I froze when I finished that paragraph and just sat, staring at my screen. I wasn't shocked really--being in a place with no sense of the mission, joking about the truly morbid and ghastly--these are not strange things to anyone's who's spent time in a military uniform. What 'shocked' me (for lack of a better term) was how matter-of-fact the story is, which is only an example of how matter-of-fact these soldiers were who Reitman spoke with and writes about. That American military leadership has become so unmoored in its capacity to lead that we're sending men and women all over the world without purpose at the same time beating them down at home under the banner of "sustainable readiness" is testament to how far our corps of leaders has fallen. I'm not going to adjudicate the justness of the cause in Ukraine or NATO; if deploying to places like Poland and the Baltic States is necessary, I'll take that as given for the time being. But if it is necessary, are we not responsible to inform our units and resource them to the maximum extent so they're not only bought-in but have the best chance at success? Assuming we can define "success," this is what a leader does. May God help us if the flag officers making these decisions do so knowing that our soldiers are so down on themselves and their ostensible mission, they sit around joking about killing themselves. That we know this yet persist with terrible leadership is unconscionable.

"It Is What It Is?"

As Reitman digs into Austin Valley's health records leading to his suicide attempt overseas, she recounts his attempts to visit the clinic at Ft. Riley. On a short questionnaire, in response to a question about wishing he were dead, he answered "yes." He was offered medication and ended up "on profile," which cost him a coveted heavy weapons position and risked turning off a pending deployment--something the higher echelons normally avoid given high troop "quotas" they "have no choice" but to meet.

I'm struck by these observations. It's common in military and government circles to be resigned to whatever befalls you; we repeat it is what it is like a mantra and move on through acceptance or willful ignorance. I answered "yes" to questions about suicidal ideation for two years on active duty and was asked no questions by military clinicians in reply. Because I was stationed too far from a military treatment facility (MTF), I had sought help from a civilian psychiatrist who prescribed an anti-depressant; reporting that appointment and treatment plan to the Air Force was required yet resulted in no follow-on appointments or requests for information. When I got out in 2021, the response to COVID-19 (even a year on) rendered my host installation closed to personnel driving on for all manner of appointments, including medical evaluations and out-processing. My "final-out" was an email sent while I sat in the backyard on my laptop, drinking a beer at 11am. I was honest on those medical forms despite the normal advice (to lie and hide stuff) and still invited no interest from anyone in the institution's healthcare system. Of course I wasn't asking to remain deployable or otherwise mission-ready; I was ready to get out and desperate to leave military life behind. Point is, there's apparently no capacity to care about folks who are Stateside, let alone on their way out. But surely there is for young soldiers in the middle of pre-deployment workup and departing for a NATO mission in Eastern Europe.

Apparently not.

Second reason I'm struck is the notion that senior officers feel compelled to meet troop quotas. Even if I have a group of soldiers from one battalion or brigade struggling mentally and on profile? At what point do I decide, as a field grade officer, that I have more to risk by deploying that unit than I do telling my bosses and senior commanders we have to find another solution? Or do I avoid that conversation for fear of tarnishing my image? If I can't keep my units' ready, I risk losing whatever future I think I deserve...so I guess I don't have a choice? It's ludicrous to suggest that a commander has no choice but to force suicidal soldiers to deploy and ignore their own problems. It wouldn't be a story if the issue cropped up every few years with one or two people; as Reitman writes, the problem appears systemic.

"Your Careers or the Lives of Your Soldiers"

What other outcome is appropriate for a chief of staff or commander (real question to The Joint Staff ) who knowingly reinforces such a concept? What should the public, the Commander-in-Chief, and Congress expect?

This is the point where I'll entertain those counterarguments that suggest these issues are overblown and that today's generation of young servicemember is simply 'too weak' to handle what amounts to 'real life,' which only renders them less capable in the operational environment and combat. Maybe that's true; maybe "this generation" wasn't prepared to adult like the previous ones--does that make the only logical conclusion letting as many as possible kill themselves so we can 'move on?'

It also seems unlikely that this is the first time we've had young men and women struggling with their mental health; we simply know more and have more names for things (which I know is, itself, controversial) than we did before the Gulf War or Vietnam or World Wars I and II. I'm not saying we should sacrifice military readiness; on the contrary, 美国军队 policy appears only to hamper readiness. If you're not serious about manning combat units with soldiers who are truly ready, you're not serious about the wars you've been tasked to prevent, and end when necessary. If it is "a numbers game," then only your career and financial well-being matter. If you're serious about defending the nation and maintaining a posture that makes would-be enemies think twice before attacking, then you are serious about your soldiers' lives.

Didn't See That Coming

That Army policies all but ignored Austin Valley is horrific. That those policies also helped ensure his second chance was ignored leaves me speechless. Reitman's story begins with Valley' first suicide attempt in a snow-covered Polish forest. He's found hanging from a tree, barely alive; he's transported to the medical facility at Landstuhl, Germany...then "[f]our weeks later, he was dead." I assumed he succumbed to injuries sustained from hanging. But no, he had attempted suicide but was found in time and physically treated before the Army sent him back to Ft. Riley in Kansas. At that point you might assume the Army's resources all came calling on someone who's attempted suicide once. But no; according to the article, the Army was gifted "a miraculous second chance to help [Valley]" and "changed nothing." Despite all that transpired before and during the deployment to Poland, Valley was left alone for long periods on and around post free to drink himself into a stupor upon seeing his ex-girlfriend and another guy at a bar and to buy a handgun at a pawn shop that he would use to shoot himself while trying to see that ex-girlfriend one more time. Austin Valley tried to kill himself but was saved; one month later he tried again, with a host of warning signs in plain view, and tragically succeeded.

I really didn't see it coming. I couldn't imagine the Army blowing an obvious second chance. I couldn't imagine someone, somewhere not putting the pieces together (other than Austin's parents) and dropping everything to get this man a real chance at life--even if it was, necessarily, out of the Army. I simply can't understand it.

Which is, I guess, why I'm so...disturbed?...shaken?...angered, I think...by this story. Of course it saddens me but now at the end of this reflection, I realize I'm more angry than anything else--at the Army's "leaders" for doing just enough to stay out of the limelight and on "the path." Even if it's true that no one ordered what Reitman's article alleges at certain points, it's seems true the organization has done almost nothing to help clinicians, patients, and patients' families. We 'talk' a great 'talk' but money talks louder; watch how a government pays for stuff. If the Army cared, what'd they budget for it? What'd they tell POTUS and Congress about their capacity to support deployments to Eastern Europe when there's been no recovery from two decades spent eyeballs-deep in CENTCOM? What'd they tell each other when they realized they had way more obligations on their plate than the current force could handle?

Nothing. I have to assume they said...nothing.

There's plenty to worry about in the world and plenty we hope our "defense leaders" are thinking through before committing people and resources to extreme danger. Unless we're all saying we hope wars are fought by machines while we sit back and chill to watch the melee on TV, we must rely on each other to keep ourselves and our friends safe and free. If we genuinely believe that, and if we were to act as though we believed it and it was true, what choice do we have except to pay the most attention to the health and welfare of the men and women we've asked to shoulder the brunt of that burden? Maybe we just stop complaining about "kids these days" and start looking in the mirror to see how badly we failed them. If "this generation" really has problems, you think they just on their own decided to suck? Maybe it's the preceding generation that should take some (or all?) of the blame in not preparing their progeny properly? It's easier to forget that debate; it is what it is, after all. We either stop paying mental health mere lip service and get real about our priorities and policy or we resign ourselves to a hasty national demise.