Poetry Book Review: 'Uniform' by Lisa Stice

Book Review: 'Uniform' by Lisa Stice

Lisa Stice is my favorite kind of war poet: One who interrogates differences among civilian, service member, and spouse. One who offers explanations, as well as explorations. One who constructs bridges with curiosity and compassion, but who remains clear-eyed and short-form in her engineering.

Stice is a U.S. Marine spouse. An equal partner in patriotism. A practical shield-maiden. In a poem titled "On Duty," she writes …

walk on your Marine's left side

the protected place
opposite the theoretical sword

you may hold his left hand
if he's not in uniform […]

be his shining medal
always faithful

to love all things holy
in this sacred institution

be respectful and kind
in your wooden fearlessness.

Reading her words, she's definitely someone want you'd want to have fighting on your side—if not in same foxhole, then at the same table at one of those insufferable military formal dinners. She's got a keen eye for observed detail and custom, a bayonet-sharp sense of snark, and a field-stripped ability with the written word and line break. I want to sit with her, near the punch bowl, and lob thought grenades into the night.

"I am married to the Marine Corps," Stice briefs in a one-page introduction to her poetry collection "Uniform," published earlier this year by Aldrich Press. "It's quite a different sort of marriage than the one with my husband, who was already a Marine when we married […]" She continues:

The Corps culture promotes silence and leaves little to no room for compromise. I understand that some silences are justified within the Corps, like not disclosing where and when my husband will deploy […] Other silences I do not understand. For Marines and their families, speaking up about frustrations is viewed as unsupportive and, sometimes, as unpatriotic. My husband can even face consequences for my speaking up.

I would like to begin the long-needed conversation …

Stice often experiments with something akin to erasure poetry, stringing together phrases not entirely unravelled from their original contexts. In a timely poem titled "Concerning Politics," for example, she collects threads of officious advice regarding acceptable Corps behaviors. Note how the breaks create poetry out of the prosaic, and how the last line lands with a boom:

[…] no campaigning for partisan candidates
no fundraising activities or canvasing
no service in clubs or speeches at gatherings
no uniforms when acting as spectator

partisan posters and signs should not
be visible to the public at your residence
take care not to post or link material
with opinions about public officials

but you may vote for whomever you choose.

In approximately 50 poems, three sections, and little more than 80 pages, Stice distills life on the home front of a military marriage before, during, and after deployment. Stice plays deftly with language and layered-meaning, and just as proficiently with sparse jargon and vocabulary. Her work is accessible and her impacts immediate. Her rounds are on target. These are poems that help illuminate what military life is like—without glorification, and with plenty of humor. Any one of her poems would be the start to a beautiful and useful conversation.

I leave you with a personal favorite, titled "Hush-a-Bye." Again, watch how she rocks the breaks. Again, listen for the (distant) boom:

26 miles away
Marines play drums:
missiles and mortars.
My heart,
my daughter's breath
our rocking
fall in with the
cadence—
at ease.

Book Review: "On Afghanistan's Plains"

Book Review: "On Afghanistan's Plains" by Barry Alexander

A common criticism of contemporary war literature—at least the stuff that gets mass-market, big media attention—is that so much of it seems to focus on kinetic "kill" narratives, such as those of snipers and SEAL teams. Beyond communicating the tactics, heroics, and sacrifices of a few individuals on the battlefield, some would argue, stories such as "American Sniper" and "Lone Survivor" do little to expand our understanding of the wars we have sent our soldiers to wage on our behalf.

War is bigger, of course, than body counts and battlefield actions. For the past 15 years, in Iraq and Afghanistan, armed forces have been engaged in various attempts to stabilize and legitimize whole countries. Our national narratives have been targeted toward nation-building, not just killing bad guys.

To tell such a complicated collective story, we need diversity in form: memoirs and movies, poems and plays, operas and dance. We need diversity in perspective: not just stories of generals and grunts, but of medics and military police, of aviators and truck drivers. Finally, we need diversity in voice: the notes of allies, civilians, and even our enemies should be added to our wartime chorus.

Memoirs such as Barry Alexander's "On Afghanistan's Plains" and movies such as the Danish-language "Krigen" ("A War"), deliver on all three counts. They expand our potential understanding of our own wars, beyond the expected kill-kill-bang-bang, beyond our soldierly stereotypes, beyond our U.S.-centric tunnel-vision.

In a 20-year career, British soldier Barry Alexander served as both enlisted and officer, and on deployments to Bosnia, Northern Ireland, Sierra Leone, Iraq, and Afghanistan. In 2007, he deployed to Southern Afghanistan's Helmand Province. There, he enjoyed a privileged position from which to observe the modern battlefield, not by class or rank, but by function. Alexander's duties as a nursing officer variously located him at cutting edge of the fight; with the A.T.V. used to shuttle wounded back to the company medical tent; and with the battalion-level trauma center. The unit's leadership also circulated medical personnel to different locations within its area of operations, so Alexander takes the reader to more than just a single combat outpost.

Alexander delivers his war story with straight-faced humor, straight-forward insights, and more than a few poetic turns and bits of color. Consider, for example, this application of coalition gunfire and wit:

The bombs hit their target, the orange flicker of the explosion engulfing the hilltop, followed a split-second later by the sound of a thousand roof slates crashing onto a marble floor as a column of thick black smoke and dust climbs into the sky. There is a silence for about thirty seconds before the sound of a lone AK is heard firing in impotent anger in our general direction. We figure that if the guy can survive that amount of ordnance being dropped on his head, he probably deserves to live.

Veterans of other armies will enjoy learning British military lingo. What today's U.S. soldier calls a "Dee-FAC" (short for "dining facility"—and what older soldiers would call a "chow hall") is to Alexander and his mates a "cookhouse." When casualty notifications are being made back home, rather than finding themselves in a "communications blackout," the British troops go into a posture of "minimisation." Rather than "redeploying" to their hometowns, returning U.K. soldiers go through period of social decompression called "normalisation." It is fun to compare and contrast the jargon.

It is in the translation into plain language the tactics and techniques of countiner-insurgency ("COIN") that Alexander most serves the reader, placing his personal experience of Afghanistan and war into expanded operational context. In one passage, for example, he puts a patrol into Kajaki Olya into the dictates of "Clear, Find, Defeat, Reassure":

Our job is to […] clear the village, find any enemy and defeat them, thereby reassuring any local civilians that the Afghan government is providing them with security and that NATO forces have the ability and willingness to take on the Taliban. This tactic is known as 'cutting the grass.' The idea is that each of the District Centres forms the centre point of an 'ink spot' […]

Additionally, Alexander's prose offers occasional pearls of pithy wisdom, some of which seem ideal candidates for posting on garrison office walls. Two favorites of mine:

• "The enduring folklore of foreign armies operating in Afghanistan tells us that we can borrow an Afghan, but we will never be able to buy him."
• "There is nothing worse for morale and professional reputation than seeing medical personnel fall ill."

Having spent nearly 246 pages and a vicarious 6 months in Afghanistan with the author, however, my greatest delight was to discover that his post-war reflections transcended into poetry. And not just the poetry of the ages, but his own.

I should have been tipped off, of course, by book's title, which is rooted in Anglo-Afghan history and the poetry of Rudyard Kipling. The memoir title alludes to Kipling's 1895 poem, "Young British Soldier." During one battle, Alexander writes: "I am surprised to hear a lance corporal quoting Shakespeare: 'Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing' […] I reply that Kipling would be more appropriate, reciting 'When you're wounded and left on Afghanistan's plains' […]"

(Personal note: British reservists, apparently, quote Shakepeare and Kipling. In my own experience, deployed U.S. citizen-soldiers are more apt to quote movies, such as 1993's "Tombstone.")

Later, I realized that I'd first encountered Alexander's words in "Heroes: 100 Poems from the New Generation of War Poets," a 2011 anthology I frequently recommend to writers and readers of modern war poetry. In the last chapters of his memoir, Alexander tells of how and why he started to write poetry, and places a few of his published works into further context. "Writing the poem ['Care Under Fire'] proves cathartic," Alexander writes in his memoir, "and I feel that it has helped exorcise some of the demons that stayed behind to fight a rear-guard action following my time with the psych."

On social media and elsewhere, he calls the "Care Under Fire" poem the seed that grew first into an essay, called "Raid on Mazdurak," and subsequently into his book-length memoir. The poem ends with this stanza:

In camp, a debrief, rifle cleaned, med kit replenished and scoff
Minimise in force—can’t phone home; even if I could, what would I say?
Sleep comes hard, tears are shed, images of the wounded on my mind
A prayer for the boys on patrol tomorrow and the ones that are left behind

In summary: "On Afghanistan's Plains" delivers much-needed new perspective, context, and salve for the modern soldier's soul. I highly recommend.

*****

"On Afghanistan's Plains" is available in print and e-reader formats, including paperback and Amazon Kindle.

'As You Were' Posthumously Publishes 'Red Bull' Poem

Just a week before the second-ever Military Experience & the Arts Symposium—this one, to be held May 14-17 at Cameron University, Lawton, Okla.—the Kentucky-based non-profit has released a second volume of the rebranded literary journal "As You Were." The 156-page publication is now available FREE as a downloadable PDF here.

The publication notably includes a "Once Again to Be a Little Boy," a poem written by Dillion Naslund, 25, and posthumously published at the request of his parents, Lisa and Jeff Naslund of Galva, Iowa.

Dillion Naslund died of a self-inflicted gunshot Dec. 10, 2012. He had deployed as an infantry soldier to Iraq in 2007-2008. He had also returned from a 9-month deployment to Eastern Afghanistan's Laghman Province in July 2011. Back home, in addition to being the member of a close family, he was active in the local fire department, and worked a concrete construction job.

The poem reads, in part:

[...] For we all are proud to have suffered this burden together, alone
It’s a priceless honor you can’t get without being selfless
It will never be found priced together amongst low budget electronics or twenty-one flavors of ice cream [...]

Dillion was a former member of the Iowa National Guard's 1st Battalion, 168th Infantry Regiment (1-168th Inf.) and 1st Battalion, 133rd Infantry Regiment (1-133rd Inf.). Both are units of Iowa's 2nd Brigade Combat Team (B.C.T.), 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division.

"Dillion had felt he was alone," his mother Lisa told the Red Bull Rising blog in 2013, "but we quickly found out that he wasn't." In the days and weeks following his December 2012 funeral, she said, more than a handful of other soldiers have independently contacted her family. They told her that Dillion's example had inspired each to seek help in their own struggles. "Dillion's legacy can be to save lives," she says. "He's already saved lives."

Through efforts such as Operation Engage America, and the 2013 television documentary "Dillion," the Naslunds have been active in promoting awareness and education regarding veteran suicides.

In February 2015, the Naslunds were interviewed by Military Experience & the Arts president David P. Ervin. Read the article here.

A webpage for Operation Engage America is here.

A Facebook page is here.

On June 20, 2015, the group plans activities in Des Moines, Iowa and San Diego, Calif. A Facebook page for the Des Moines event is here.

*****

The Veterans Crisis Line is a toll-free and on-line resource staffed by trained Department of Veterans Affairs personnel, who can confidentially assist soldiers, veterans, families and friends toward local help and resources.

According to the Veterans Crisis Line website:

1-800-273-8255 and Press 1, chat online, or send a text message to 838255 to receive confidential support 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. Support for deaf and hard of hearing individuals is available.

Did File Photo Reinforce the 'Unstable Vet' Meme?

Blog-editor's update: We just spoke via e-mail to Des Moines Register reporter Clark Kauffman, who is mentioned below. It turns out that, while not attributed to Robert McKevitt in the story as printed, the mention of his past (?) military service was apparently at McKevitt's own insistence. Given that information, the inclusion of the file photo makes sense. In other words—our words—the subject "played the veteran card" himself.

The potential lesson-learned for journalists (and mil-bloggers)? "Not all veterans are broken, but not all veterans are necessarily heroes, either."

That said, writers of all kinds should remain vigilant against both the positive and negative stereotypes of veterans returned from war.

*****

When the Des Moines (Iowa) Register ran a "man bites dog" weird-news story on the front page of its Thurs., Feb. 20 print edition, it also managed to reinforce the negative "hot-tempered, hair-triggered" stereotype of military veterans returned from war.

The story involved Robert McKevitt, 27, of Spirit Lake, who recently lost his unemployment benefits in a December 2013 administrative hearing. (Note: Not exactly breaking news.) In an incident that occurred on an unspecified date at his former employer's Milford, Iowa warehouse, McKevitt reportedly used an 8,000-pound forklift to shake loose a stuck vending-machine candy bar for which he had paid.

The news article, written by investigative reporter Clark Kauffman, is 9 column inches of empty journalistic calories: "It's a familiar tableau: an overpriced vending-machine candy bar dangles on a spiral hook [...]" the article starts. "For most of us, that mini-drama usually ends in defeat. But not for Robert McKevitt of Spirit Lake, whose victory over an uncooperative vending machine ultimately cost him his job."

The print edition went with the straight-laced headline: "Iowan loses cool, job over vending machine."

The on-line edition played it with more snark: "The Twix bar, the forklift, and the fired Iowan." (See also partial screen capture, above.)

The story goes on, but the details are unimportant for the purposes of this discussion. The employer says McKevitt shook the machine and then dropped it with the fork lift. McKevitt says he carefully put the vending machine back against the wall. Either way, he was fired. Fork lifts are dangerous, and vending machines are dangerous, and employers can't afford employees who willfully create dangerous situations. The Red Bull Rising blog does not endorse the misuse of large power equipment. Even if it sounds funny in the papers.

The trouble is, the Des Moines Register also went out of its way to point out that McKevitt is a military veteran.

It did so because editors had a file photo of McKevitt, taken during his 2010-2011 deployment to Afghanistan along with 3,000 other citizen-soldiers of the Iowa Army National Guard's 2nd Brigade Combat Team (B.C.T.), 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division. So they ran the photo of him, in patrol cap and combat uniform, talking with an civilian at an unspecified Forward Operating Base ("FOB").

The grip of McKevitt's pistol is cropped out in the print edition, but remains in the on-line version. The photo is two-thirds the size of the article's total text.

Kauffman's article also mentions McKevitt's service, probably to make the connection to the adjacent file photo. The article does not confirm whether McKevitt is still a member of the Iowa National Guard, however. It also does not seek to investigate or explain his unusual behavior in any way.

Instead, in words and pictures, the reader is left with the impression that McKevitt's past military service is somehow relevant to the behavior that resulted in his termination. Negative stereotype of veterans as "ticking time bombs"? Confirmed.

Because words matter. And pictures matter even more.

Don't think that veterans are negatively stereotyped? More on that in a minute.

Here's the dilemma presented by this article:

• If McKevitt's status as a veteran is relevant to the story, why make no attempt to constructively address the potential mental-health or cultural implications of veterans returned from deployment?

• If McKevitt's status as a veteran is NOT relevant to the story, then why was the misleading and provocative photo even included? Remember that at least one editor must have waved a yellow flag of caution prior to publication—the weapon in the photo, after all, was cropped out. The photo could have been cropped to just his face. Or, better yet—not used at all.

Kauffman, by the way, is a 2005 Pulitzer finalist, and a past health care reporter for the newspaper. His health-care expertise no doubt got over-ridden at the editorial level. Certainly, his copy in this instance—even given its light-hearted, light-on-news flaws—deserved better treatment than the way it was presented on page.

So did the past work of his Register colleagues, Tony Leys and Rodney White, who embedded with Iowa's 2-34th BCT multiple times during more than a year of coverage, including a few weeks in Afghanistan.

And so, ultimately, did the Register's readers. And the readers of its sister publications. Notably, the latter includes those that specifically serve military audiences.

It turns out that, because of the photograph, another Gannett-owned newspaper picked up the story. The Army Times ran it with the headline, "Guard member fired after using forklift to retrieve Twix from vending machine." (See partial screen capture, left.)

Still think the choice of photo was irrelevant, and not a slur against citizen-soldiers? The Army Times wouldn't have run the article without a military "connection." Its readers, however, were smarter than that. Here's what a couple of Army Times readers wrote in comments:

"This story has nothing to do with the National Guard. Attaching this story to the fact that he is in the National Guard is pointless." 

"The fact that this employee happened to be in the Guard has no relevance to his civilian employment and thus this story. Stop the Guard bashing."

Back at the Register's on-line story, an Iowa reader wrote: "If a story involves a U.S. veteran, his/her status as a U.S. veteran is relevant in any story regarding employment; in this 'improving' economy, veterans are having an extremely difficult time finding jobs."

Yep. And depicting them as potentially crazy, aggressive, or dangerous doesn't exactly help in the hiring progress, does it?

Of course, some editors might argue that, in the present age of "Support Your Troops" and "Thank You for Your Service," a negative stereotype of veterans can't possibly exist. A file photo of a soldier can't be any different than that of a coach or a teacher, right? This veteran disagrees. So do a couple of Army Times readers.

Others might argue that it was obviously a slow news day, and that the candy-bar article was meant to be read with a snicker, and that veterans should lighten up. After all, didn't readers also see that story Altoona reporter Timothy Meinch, the one that ran on page 4A of the same issue yesterday? "Veterans center celebrates move with ribbon-cutting." See? The Register loves and understands veterans!

Except that the "veteran loses cool, uses forklift to get candy bar" story was front-page news, not page 4A. Editors made that decision, too. Important stuff goes to the front.

Still, the candy bar story reached No. 2 "most popular" on the newspaper's website Thursday. Editors must have known what they were doing.

Final questions:

Would the Register's editors have so blithely mentioned out-of-context an unusually behaving individual's past military service, if the 8,000-pound forklift been a weapon of some sort?

Suppose there's a hypothetical incident of domestic or workplace violence sometime in the future, and someone involved just happens to be a veteran. Are the Register's editors canny enough to use that as teachable moment? To educate readers on issues like mental health, workplace violence, and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (P.T.S.D.)? Or are they just going to jump to conclusions—or worse, cheap laughs?

Here's the short answer: Wait and see. Just don't be the veteran who loses his cool.

Women Veterans Film Airs Nov. 8 and Free On-line

A 2011 documentary about women veterans will air tonight, Fri., Nov. 8, 2013 on Public Broadcast Service television stations nationwide, via the PBS World service. According to the PBS website, "Service: When Women Come Marching Home" will also be available for on-line viewing free during the month of November.

The documentary by Marcia Rock and Patricia Lee Stotter describes the post-deployment experiences of eight veterans, who served in the Cold War and the Persian Gulf, to present-day Iraq and Afghanistan.

According to press materials:

From the deserts of Afghanistan to rural Tennessee, from Iraq to New York City, these women wrestle with prosthetics, homelessness, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Military Sexual Trauma. Their pictures and videos shot in Iraq and Afghanistan speak volumes. Told through their voices during everyday life in kitchens, grocery stores and even therapy sessions, the documentary is a wake-up call to the unknowing civilian population to the challenges female veterans face returning from duty.

Distribution via PBS was underwritten by the Disabled American Veterans (D.A.V.) organization.

For a PBS station-locator, click here. A PDF broadcast schedule is available here.

For the official "Service" documentary website, click here.

For a Facebook page for the documentary, click here.

PTSD-awareness Video 'Dillion' Now Free On-line

A 45-minute documentary about an Iowa National Guard citizen-soldier who killed himself months after returning home from deployment is now available for viewing on-line free and in its entirety. Dillion Naslund, 25, of Galva, Iowa was a member of 2nd Brigade Combat Team (B.C.T.), 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division.

The film "Dillon" debuted on Kansas Public Television station KPTS in early September, and was the subject of a previous post on the Red Bull Rising blog. To view the film, click here.

As presented on-line, Dillion's parents Jeff and Lisa Naslund appear in a 15-minute studio interview following the film. The Naslunds discuss how they hope the documentary might inspire other soldiers, veterans, military families and friends to seek help, information, and resources.

The subtitle of the documentary is "The true story of a soldier's battle with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder [P.T.S.D.]."

"Dillion came home, and after the dust had settled from the parties and the 'welcome homes,' you could see things were turning the wrong way," Jeff Naslund says at one point in the documentary. "He was having a hard time coping with life. He was trying to put that puzzle together. Every time he'd slip a piece in, it seemed like two more would slip out away from him. He was trying hard, but he couldn't pull it back together [...]"

The film succeeds most as a heartfelt tribute to a fallen friend and family member, as a warning to watch loved ones for signs of suicidal intent, and as a celebration of various community-based efforts to help other soldiers, veterans, and families.

Groups featured in the documentary include:

• The Iowa Chapter of the Patriot Guard Riders
• The Iowa Thunder Ride
• The Veterans First drop-in center in Alta, Iowa
• Serving Armed Forces Everyday (S.A.F.E.) of Le Mars, Iowa

As a work of documentary history, "Dillion" also provides insight into the life and values of modern-day small-town Iowa. This is an America that few still have opportunity or privilege to see, and that non-Midwesterners may find as foreign as wars fought overseas.

As a piece of journalism, the film is more problematic. To avoid encouraging "copycat" suicides, newspaper and broadcast reporters usually try to avoid focusing on funerals, or on grieving family and friends. "Dillion" features plenty of both. This is a documentary, however, not a news report produced under deadline. If parents or military unit leaders are concerned about the risk of inspiring copycat behaviors, "Dillion" might more ideally viewed as part of a guided conversation with youth or veterans, with professional or trained resources present.

(For suggestions on writing or talking about suicide, visit resources such as Dart Center for Journalism and Trauma, and ReportingOnSuicide.org.)

In other ways, however, "Dillion" hits the right beats:

• Suicide is never a rational decision.

• Often, there are months of related, visible behaviors such as drinking and depression. Family and friends can often help.

• There are always resources that can help. Do not give up.

Ulitmately, the film stands as a testament to one family's desire to grow something good out of a heart-breaking bad.

Regardless of how or where it is viewed, let's hope that "Dillion" results in fewer stories like it.

*****

The Veterans Crisis Line is a toll-free and on-line resource staffed by trained Department of Veterans Affairs personnel, who can confidentially assist soldiers, veterans, families and friends toward local help and resources.

According to the Veterans Crisis Line website:

1-800-273-8255 and Press 1, chat online, or send a text message to 838255 to receive confidential support 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. Support for deaf and hard of hearing individuals is available.

'Dillion' Film Tells Iowa 'Red Bull' Soldier's PTSD Story

The family of a deceased Iowa "Red Bull" soldier hopes that publicizing their story of loss to suicide will help other citizen-soldiers, families, and friends seek help and resources. The 46-minute documentary "Dillion" debuts on Kansas Public Television station KPTS, Wichita, on Sept. 11, 2013, at 8 p.m. CDT.

The subtitle of the documentary is "The true story of a soldier's battle with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder [P.T.S.D.]." The family is seeking other venues and media outlets through which to distribute the film.

Their messages? That suicide is not a rational option, nor is it inevitable. That there is never a single event to which one can trace an explanation of suicide. And that there are others, like their son, who may be suffering depression, PTSD, or ideas of suicide.

Dillion Naslund, 25, of Galva, Iowa, was a former member of the Iowa National Guard's 1st Battalion, 168th Infantry Regiment (1-168th Inf.) and 1st Battalion, 133rd Infantry Regiment (1-133rd Inf.). Both are units of Iowa's 2nd Brigade Combat Team (B.C.T.), 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division.

"Dillion had felt he was alone," says his mother Lisa, "but we quickly found out that he wasn't." In the days and weeks following his December 2012 funeral, she says, more than a handful of other soldiers have independently contacted her family. They told her that Dillion's example had inspired each to seek help in their own struggles. "Dillion's legacy can be to save lives," she says. "He's already saved lives."

According to news reports, eight former or actively drilling citizen-soldiers from Iowa have committed suicide since December 2012. All were between the ages of 18 and 25, and experiencing relationship and/or financial problems. Nationwide, suicide-prevention efforts continue to be a concern of military veterans and families. They are also the focus of programs throughout U.S. military and veterans communities, including the National Guard.

Naslund had previously deployed as an infantry soldier to Iraq in 2007-2008. More recently, he had returned from a 9-month deployment to Eastern Afghanistan's Laghman Province in July 2011. Back home, in addition to being the member of a close family, he was active in the local fire department, and worked a concrete construction job. Naslund died of a self-inflicted gunshot Dec. 10, 2012.

"Dillion wasn't any different than anyone else," Lisa Nasland says. "He had chores, he got grounded. He was just an ordinary kid who went off to war."

Friends and family say that Dillion had changed upon his return. He was no longer upbeat and respectful, and his drinking became destructive. Earlier in 2012, family and friends had picked up on warning signs, and had gotten Dillion to medical help. Once out of in-patient care, however, medical and counseling resources were located more than 2 hours away from Naslund's Ida County home.

"You want something or someone to blame," says Lisa Naslund. "It took me a long time to realize that my argument [with Dillion on the day of his death] wasn't to blame. His girlfriend wasn't to blame. I call PTSD 'the Beast.' The Beast is to blame."

Russ Meyer, a veteran, father of two U.S. Air Force pilots, and former president of Cessna, introduces the "Dillion" documentary in 1-minute trailer here, as well as embedded in this blog post below.

Independent film-maker Tom Zwemke is a Vietnam War veteran, a Naslund family friend, and a current member of the KPTS board of trustees. The documentary was first screened at a private gathering of more than 200 friends and family earlier this summer, at a Western Iowa celebration of Dillion's July 2 birthday.

The Veterans Crisis Line is a toll-free and on-line resource staffed by trained Department of Veterans Affairs personnel, who can confidentially assist soldiers, veterans, families and friends toward local help and resources.

According to the Veterans Crisis Line website:

1-800-273-8255 and Press 1, chat online, or send a text message to 838255 to receive confidential support 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. Support for deaf and hard of hearing individuals is available.

First Days and Worst Fears

In 2010, while preparing to deploy to Afghanistan, my biggest dread was missing the first day of kindergarten. I worried about what it would be like to leave my young children for a year. I was worried more about how they might change, rather than how I might change.

A recent Minnesota Public Radio story about post-deployment parenting quoted Kevin Ross, 31, about how he hardly recognized one of his daughters when he returned from an 18-month deployment to Iraq in 2009. At the time, Ross was a member of 682nd Engineer Battalion, Wilmar, Minn.:

"The night I got home I remember we are standing in that final formation in the armory," he says, "and I looked out and I saw a little girl sitting on the floor crying. As I got closer I hugged my wife and realized that that was my child."

That sounded a little like my own worst fear.

The strange thing about worst fears is that they seem so different in retrospect.

The way things worked out, I didn't deploy. I didn't have to miss kindergarten, although, ironically, my Army job at the time eventually kept me away from the Lena's official first day of school.

Turns out, however, the first day of school was just another day. By the time kindergarten rolled around, Lena had already spent a summer in a school-based "camp" program. Drop-off at the school building was just another day at the office. A non-event.

The last day of the 2011-2012 school year was last Friday, so, for us, today was the first day of summer. On the school rolls, Lena is now counted as a second-grader. Rain is preparing for kindergarten. Both kids went off to school "camp" this morning.

Rain is more of an introvert than his sister. While dropping him off this morning, he skirted the perimeter of a large room of kids and adults playing tabletop games, promptly found a set of toy tools, and set to building something by himself. I hardly got a good-bye out of him. He was wearing a hard hat when I left him, ready to get to work.

I wasn't expecting it to be so easy. Or so hard.

Walking outside to my car, I suddenly felt like I'd been smacked by a ball peen hammer, right between the eyes. That hasn't happened for a long time. Still, it made me remember everything that's happened in the past couple of years. And also to appreciate that I've been around to see most of it happen.

Time passes. Fears change.

And kids grow up, no matter what.

What's There to Say of Iraq, Afghan Wars?

"You don't want to know why I think we went," Warbuck tells me. It's late summer, he's back from Afghanistan for good, and we're meeting in a favorite burrito shop of mine. Most of the talk is about his swag and booty from a recent gaming convention held in Indiana, but there are pop-up targets of post-deployment politics, too. "I think it had something to do with keeping certain people in power. There ... and here."

"You know, I'd be OK with even that," I reply. "If only someone would man up and say that was the case."

Both in war and after war, there are few rules and even fewer answers. You get to make them both up as you go. Even when the game seems mostly played out, like it may now.

(To get a sense of this month's end-of-conflict vibe, check out this Nov. 27 retrospective from McClatchy Newspapers: "As U.S. troops leave Iraq, what is the legacy of eight years of war?" Or this Nov. 28 Associated Press article: "Drawdown wreaks havoc on Guardsmen's lives.")

On his "Best Defense" blog at Foreign Policy magazine last week, Tom Ricks presented this question: "'Just what did we fight and bleed for?' I think that as the United States leaves Iraq and shuffles toward the exit in Afghanistan, we need to think about how to answer that question when veterans of our wars there pose it."

I like Ricks' question, because it seems to put the proverbial boot onto the other foot: Rather than ask the soldiers of our grand republic to provide the meaning of Iraq, Afghanistan, and other 21st century military actions, it asks its citizens.

While I invite you to consider Ricks' first draft, as well as the many comments made to the post, here's an update of something I offered up to that particular online conversation:

We, through our elected leaders, asked you to do this: We asked you to leave your families and friends, and the comforts and freedoms of home. You did the missions you were assigned, and did them well. You and your families made sacrifices both large and small. We thank you for this. We honor your service. We welcome you home. Now, you may say we owe you nothing--that you were just doing your job, or your duty, or that you only did it to help pay for school, or just to pay the bills at home. Still, we would like to know: How can we help?

Like Ricks, I'm still playing with the language, but I think I'm on a right track: While it doesn't assume that everyone who comes back from deployment is somehow tragically damaged, it also doesn't shirk from recognizing that some may be permanently changed by the experience.

It avoids assigning glorious intentions in the contexts of grand historical schemes. It avoids using deflated labels such as "hero": Those words have more value when spent by peers and buddies--those who were actually there. Civilians tend to use the term too cheaply. Not every soldier is a hero, or wants to be one.

It also avoids diminishing the service of someone who might not have had cause to shoot or get shot at, but who still sacrificed a year or more of life to the deployment. Everyone has a different war.

It leaves open the questions about civilian employment, mental and physical health, and reintegration with family, friends, and society. Of course, it also leaves open the possibility that a returning soldier may just want to be left alone.

What do you think? What am I missing? What else should we be prepared to tell our soldiers?

Sounding Off and Listening Up

Think of it as a mix between "Why We Fight" and "Why We Write": Veterans Day 2011 proved not only a time to reflect upon military service, but to consider sharing memories and experiences with others.

Alex Horton, a U.S. Army veteran and now a blogger for the Department of Veterans Affairs, wrote "Oh, the (War) Stories You'll Hear" for Time magazine's "Battleland" blog, cheekily evoking the title of a Dr. Suess book before telling a story about when he and his Army buddies literally found themselves in the s---.

I can't quite place why I'm willing to share so many of my war stories with civilians. Some of my friends keep their service hidden and move on, like the Army and the war were scenes from a long forgotten movie. Not me, though. Perhaps I'd rather think of myself in a moment in time where I didn't quite know how those stories would shape my life after the war. Or why I stumble madly in the dead of night to double check the locks that keep out enemies without form or figure.

In a fractured existence of countless stories, I still watch the Stryker labor in the muck under its own weight; I see gunships in the distance burp heavy fire and hear the delayed chatter of the guns; I feel the savage fury overtake me as a friend is stuffed into a body bag. I can't escape the grinding machinery of the present, no matter how bafflingly unpredictable and scary and bizarre it is compared to war. But each story I tell puts those moments to rest. If we come home in fragments, it's the stories that make us whole again.

Reporter Carl Prine is a former Marine and Army National Guard soldier, and a Kaybar-sharp analyst of current events at home and downrange. In a Veterans Day post titled "Fathers and Sons," he writes:

Perhaps because the war in Iraq is coming to an end, many of our most conscientiously bright and articulate combat veterans have been mulling what their service there meant. [...] They’re campaigns deep into the soul nevertheless, and I suspect Few and West shall keep marching behind the caissons of regret and pride, courage and pain for decades, with no flag to capture or hill to hold, but that really doesn’t matter, does it?

It’s the march that counts.

And later: "[...] I know a truth, a truth you also know, even if most civilians don’t. Time makes our memories, and changes them, and we don’t know yet what they shall mean."

In his essay, Prine mentions the Nov. 4 reflections of Phillip Carter in the Washington Post, regarding the latter's struggle and reconciliation with the drive-by sentiment, "Thank you for your service." Here are Carter's words:

[...] I began to understand the sincerity underlying most gestures of gratitude toward the troops. I also began to empathize with those who had no personal connection to the military, but who still wanted to say something or do something to support those who served on their behalf. There is genuine respect behind those thank yous, and after a while, I came to accept that.

I also believe that this collective gratitude may serve a deeper purpose. Whether civilians fully realize it or not, the simple message of thanks sends a powerful message to veterans—that the nation will take responsibility for our actions in her service. In some small way, this collective acceptance of responsibility helps veterans to transfer some of the psychological burdens of wartime service to society. Such gratitude will not eradicate combat stress nor address every veteran’s experience. However, these small gestures do make a difference.

Psychologist Paula J. Caplan, author of "When Johnny and Jane Come Marching Home: How All of Us Can Help Veterans", wrote an opinion article urging members of the public to consider actively—and non-judgmentally—listening to veterans' stories:

Civilians tend not to ask veterans if they want to talk, because they fear that they won’t know what to do. In our profoundly psychiatrized society, many people mistakenly believe that only therapists know how to heal those veterans who are experiencing grief, fear, shame, anxiety, loss of innocence or moral anguish. Nothing could be further from the truth. The mere act of listening is often deeply healing.

There are three reasons that veterans don’t offer up their tales from the front lines: They don’t want to upset civilians by telling us what they have seen and done; they are afraid we will think they are mentally ill; and they fear that if they tell us, we might not understand—and that the chasm between them and the rest of the community will become even greater. [...]

The veterans said that just being given a chance to tell their stories and be listened to intently made it possible for them to speak, to feel respected and sometimes to say things they had never told anyone. Such listening makes the environment safe: Veterans know they will not be criticized or grilled–and the listener’s silence gives them permission to tell their stories in the way they choose.

For the civilians, the experience was transformative. Whether it was bonding over the sadness of losing a loved one, a sense of powerlessness in not being able to help someone in danger, or a shared understanding of the fragility of life, civilians who had thought they’d have nothing in common with veterans were surprised by how easily they could relate to their experiences. [...]

As veterans open up in these listening sessions, they can more easily give voice to what else they need — from practical help finding jobs, shelter or medical care, to grappling with moral and existential crises, to turning from a culture of defense, attack and destruction to one of connection, creativity and care.

Vets Write Their 'Ways Back Home'

Blog-editor's note: This post is based on pre-event press materials regarding "Writing My Way Back Home," a free writing workshop for veterans conducted in Iowa City, Iowa, Oct. 14-16, 2011. The event was sponsored by the University of Iowa Veterans Center. Contact information regarding future such events appears below.

The day after Emma Rainey finished organizing and teaching a writing workshop for veterans in 2010, she received a letter from her father—a U.S. naval officer during the Korean War—describing a war trauma he suffered and never mentioned to anyone in the family. "The irony did not escape me," said Rainey. "I barely understood my passion to help veterans—mostly I was driven by news reports of returning veterans committing suicide and knew writing could help. To discover my father had suffered an ungodly trauma—and never mentioned it till now—sent me reeling."

"The workshop’s primary aim is not to generate work of literary quality—although this may happen and certainly did in our first workshop,” said Rainey, a 2009 graduate of the UI Nonfiction Writing Program co-facilitated the workshop with John Mikelson, UI Veterans Center coordinator. “The workshop begins the powerful process for veterans to write their stories and reflect on events they experienced in war in a way that may lead to greater insight, creativity, and healing."

Writers from UI's Nonfiction Writing Program and Writers' Workshop, poets, playwrights, and veterans volunteered to teach blocks of instruction. Topics ranged from the use of descriptions and dialogue, explorations of poetic and visual forms of expression.

"Our first workshop was full of surprises," said Rainey. "First, half the veterans were women—I didn’t expect that. Also, I was overwhelmed by the determination of disabled vets to journey to Iowa City—a blind vet flew in from Minneapolis and a paraplegic took the Greyhound bus from Chicago—to write their stories. But what struck me most of all was the camaraderie—it didn’t matter which branch of service, age, rank, or war had been fought. They veterans were just glad to be together."

Following 2010's event, Rainey and Mikelson had noted many veterans wished to participate, but found traveling to Iowa impossible. Rainey has since incorporated and is finishing the application process for non-profit status to conduct writing workshops throughout the U.S. The name "Writing My Way Back Home" came from correspondence with John Lavelle, a Vietnam War vet from Bettendorf, Iowa. "John used the expression: 'writing my way home' in our e-mail communications," Rainey said. "This phrase was an ideal metaphor for what the vet faces when returning stateside, as well as how they must reconnect—and come home—to themselves. So when it was time incorporate and fill in the name of our organization, John Lavelle gladly gave his permission to use it."

Rainey recently completed a course titled "Recon Mission" at the Therapeutic Writing Institute, Wheat Ridge, Colo. She also conducted two writing workshops this past year for Operation: Military Kids, run by Iowa State University for military children with parents about to deploy. "I think the National Guard has it particularly hard since they are not full time. And though I wasn’t born when my father served in the Korean War, I remember how difficult it was for our family when he was out to sea, sometimes for a year at a time. I’m impressed how organizations are recognizing that family members need supportive attention, too."

The writing workshop was open to all current and former military personnel—whether they were in combat or not.

One lunch was donated by Bread Garden Market, Iowa City. "Eating together—the vets and writers and volunteer therapists—helped deepen the bond in the writing community during the weekend."

Rainey also mentioned Karl Marlantes's 2011 book, "What It Is Like to Go to War" “Marlantes bravely looks into the heart of the warrior and demands our society recognize the healing work needed for our returning warriors.”

Marlantes writes:

This book is my song. Each and every one of us veterans must have a song to sing about our war before we can walk back into the community without everyone …quaking behind the walls. Perhaps it is drawing pictures or reciting poetry about the war. Perhaps it is getting together with a small group and telling stories. Perhaps it is dreaming about it and writing the dreams down and then telling people your dreams. But it isn’t enough just to do the art in solitude and sing the song alone. You must sing it to other people. Those who are afraid or uneasy must hear it. They must see the art. They must lose their fear. When the child asks, "What is it like to go to war?" to remain silent keeps you from coming home.

This year John Mikelson is setting aside a time slot for veterans to read their work during this year’s Veterans Reception on Nov. 9 at the Old Capitol Town Centre. "The one component missing from our last workshop," Rainey recalls, "was a venue for the veterans to read their writing to civilians. It’s a transformative experience, both for the vet and the audience, to hear and understand the warrior’s experience. It’s part of the healing process for the vet and the civilians."

Rainey believes it is essential we reach out to the veterans we have sent to war to help integrate them back home. "After reading my father's war narrative, I began to write an essay about it and realized how his unspoken trauma became an intimate member of our family—an unnamed sibling—and would have been rendered invisible if not for its explosive echo powerful enough to erupt, to this day, the lives of my sisters and mother. More than ever I am committed to helping U.S. military personnel find their way back home through writing."

For more information on "Writing My Way Home" offerings, click here.

Visit the project's Facebook page here.

Or contact:

Writing My Way Back Home
P.O. Box 3470
Iowa City, Iowa 52244

John Mikelson, UI Veterans Center: john-mikelson AT uiowa.edu

Emma Rainey, Writing My Way Back Home, Inc.: emma.rainey4 AT gmail.com

Iowa City Center is Outpost for Student-Vets

U.S. Dept. of Veterans Affairs blogger Alex Horton recently observed:

When veterans return from deployments and get out of the military, the campus can be an attractive place to start the next chapter of life. It can also be a place with unique challenges of reintegration, like a younger peer group and the juggling of family or career life. So, veterans are usually called nontraditional students, but that doesn’t mean universities understand or always prepare for their needs. But some schools have started to understand the need for veteran-specific programs and services on campus.

The University of Iowa, for example, has a Veterans Center located on the first floor of the UI Communications Center on Madison Street, downtown Iowa City. The center serves a growing population of students who are serving, or who have served, in military uniform. Currently, the veterans number more than 400 on campus, and enrollment anticipated to increase to more than 600 students next year.

Think of it as an outpost, where people speak fluent military-ese, don't flinch at mixing camouflage patterns, and may have even once walked in your boots for a time.

According to the center's website:

• The center is staffed by veterans and is designed to ensure that student veterans at the University receive all benefits to which they are entitled. The center is home to the University of Iowa Veteran's Association (UIVA), which serves as liaison between the university and student veterans, and works to address issues specific to student veterans.

• Assistance and information can be provided regarding issues and benefits such as: housing grants and loans, medical services, and credit hours awards for military service, among others.

• In addition, the lounge offers comfortable seating, several networked computers, fridge/freezer, microwave, big screen TV, and pop/snacks are available for purchase.

• The center is generally open weekdays 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m., but calling ahead is advisable: 319.384.2020; 319.335.3152.

The website further describes the University of Iowa Veterans Association (UIVA) as:

[A] group of veterans and supporters interested in helping veterans and returning reservists at The University of Iowa adjust to and integrate into university life. Additionally, the group aims to support persons still serving as well as their families, and to raise awareness among fellow students of the daily sacrifices made on their behalf.

This is not a pro-war or anti-war group. It is a pro-service member group for veterans, reservists, and supporters. People of all political ideologies are welcome.

The Sucking Sound in Hooverville

Sgt. Schlitz is back from Bagram, and looking for work. The Eastern Iowa toy company for which he'd previously worked has been limping along in the bad economy. He re-joined the U.S. Army after a 21-year break in service, and deployed to Afghanistan with the 2nd Brigade Combat Team (B.C.T.) 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division. He's got management and marketing experience, a hearty Midwestern work ethic, and a dogged sense of humor.

"Al Jazeera is hiring a graphic designer," he joked recently on his Facebook page. "Would that be a conflict of interest?"

According to Iowa National Guard officials, approximately 25 percent of the Red Bull soldiers who deployed to Afghanistan didn't have civilian jobs to which to return. By comparison, as of August 2011, the overall unemployment rate in Iowa is 6.1 percent.

The quick math? In round numbers, out of a 3,000-member brigade combat team, approximately 750 are without civilian employment. In the military, that's larger than the size of a battalion. In the civilian world--at least by the Small Business Administration's (SBA) definition--that's "large business" territory.

If a 25-percent unemployment bomb were to explode in the vicinity of a single Iowa town, you'd be looking at some significant economic damage. Because Iowa's citizen-soldiers are spread across the state, however, adding 750 more job-seekers to the state's pool of 101,900 unemployed workers doesn't exactly seem like a flood.

In other words, it's easy for people to say "thank you for your service." It's harder for people to see that there may be a systemic problem when it comes to keeping citizen-soldiers gainfully employed when they're not being deployed.

"I've never met someone who didn't want to help," says Saber2th, who is engaged in his own post-deployment job search. For 24 months prior to his own deployment to Afghanistan, he was on temporary full-time active-duty--while helping the 2-34th BCT prepare for deployment. Now, that mission is over, and the budget money that went with it is gone. "Everybody says civilian employers understand how military skills and attitudes benefit them. Everybody says employers will follow the law, and won't discriminate based on membership in the National Guard. Beyond that, no one seems to know what to do. Job fairs and resume-writing classes can only get soldiers so far."

The funny thing is, Saber2th is pretty sure he could market his specialized military skills elsewhere in the states. Arizona, say--or maybe Virginia. But that would most likely be military-contract work, and the wars can't go on forever. Besides, like Schlitz, he'd like to keep his young family in Iowa.

As a hardworking, capable taxpayer who has repeatedly answered the call of country (two overseas deployments) and community (during the floods of 2008), his fellow Iowans should want to keep him there, too.

Of course, unemployment in the ranks isn't just an Iowa problem: Consider that, in 2010, 20 percent of Vermont's 86th BCT returned to unemployment after the Iowa's Red Bull soldiers took over the mission in Eastern Afghanistan. At the time, Vermont's overall unemployment rate was 7 percent.

According to a recent Army news release, Florida's 53rd BCT returned from a 2010 deployment with 39 percent unemployment.

Following an August presidential announcement on veterans-employment initiatives, a White House press release noted:

• As of June, one million veterans were unemployed and the jobless rate for post-9/11 veterans was 13.3 percent. [National unemployment rate at the time was around 9.1 percent.]

• These veterans tend to be young and many worked in sectors that were among the hardest hit by the recession. Post-9/11 veterans were more likely to be employed in mining, construction, manufacturing, transportation and utilities—all industries that experienced significant drops in employment during 2008-2009.

• And as we end the war in Iraq and wind down the war in Afghanistan, over one million service members are projected to leave the military between 2011 and 2016.

Some cranks and wags will argue that there is nothing new here, that the poor are always with us, and so are jobless veterans. (Forget the Alamo and forget the Maine--anyone remember Hooverville?) According to a Pew Research Center report published this week:

More than eight-in-ten (84 percent) of these modern-era veterans say the American public has little or no understanding of the problems that those in the military face. Most of the public (71 percent) agrees. Many Americans also acknowledge that since the 9/11 attacks, the military and their families have made more sacrifices than the public at large. But even among this group, only 26 percent say this gap is "unfair," while 70 percent say that it's "just part of being in the military."

Seventy percent of America to veterans: "Welcome home. Embrace the suck."

*****

IOWA CITY VETS JOB FAIR IS TODAY, OCT. 6
A Veteran’s Job and Resource Fair will be held today, Thursday, Oct. 6, 2011, from 4 to 7 p.m. at the Iowa National Guard Armory Complex in Iowa City. Sponsored by Iowa City Area Development, more than 50 employers and veterans resource providers will be present. A pre-event workshop, "How to Work a Job Fair," will be conducted 3:30 p.m. at the some location. For more information, click here. For a PDF brochure, click here.

*****

IOWA WORKFORCE COMPUTERS INSTALLED IN ARMORIES
As part of a wider reorganization of the state's employment offices, 42 computer-based "access points" to Iowa Workforce Development services have been installed in Iowa National Guard armories.

*****

PROPOSED EMPLOYER TAX CREDITS FOR HIRING VETS
As part of a comprehensive veterans employment speech in August 2011, President Barack Obama recently proposed employer tax credits ranging from $2,400 to $$4,800 for each unemployed veteran hired. (An earlier credit of up to $2,400 expired in 2010.) He also proposed similar tax credits for hiring veterans with service-connected disabilities, in amounts ranging from $4,800 to $9,600.

*****

RED BULLS RETURNING TO CAMPUS, RATHER THAN WORK?
Many returning Red Bull soldiers may be using their G.I. Bill benefits, rather than look for work. Reported in a Cedar Rapids Gazette/KCRG-TV9 article earlier this week, approximately one-third of those returning from Afghanistan planned to go to college rather than seek employment.

*****

STATEWIDE JOB FAIR FOR VETERANS, MIL-SPOUSES IS NOV. 8
A statewide "Hiring Our Heroes" job fair for veterans and military spouses will be held 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., Nov. 8, at Hall "C" of Hy-Vee Hall, Des Moines, Iowa. The event is free. Registration is not required, but registrants will receive advance notice of exhibitors. Click here for a registration page. For more information, contact Iowa Workforce Development's Jeff Johnson; jeffrey_johnson AT iwd.iowa.gov; 515.281.9708; Gloria Cano; gloria_cano AT iwd.iowa.gov; 515.281.9649.

TV Spots Feature Service Dogs, Iowa Troops

Paws & Effect, a Des Moines, Iowa-based non-profit organization that raises and trains service dogs for Iowa combat veterans, recently launched an award-winning series of four television Public Service Announcements (PSA). Some of the actors featured in the PSAs are actually Iowa National Guard soldiers and airmen, both male and female.

The “We Serve with Honor” Public Service Announcement (PSA) campaign depicts how service dogs help veterans diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) negotiate physical and emotional hazards, at home and in public. Copies of these 15- to 30-second television spots are available to media outlets.

Psychiatric service dogs perform such actions as:

• Gently nudging an individual to interrupt flashbacks.
• Keeping others at comfortable distances.
• Checking around corners, and guiding through crowds.

“A service dog is not a pet. It is a medical necessity, just like a crutch, a cane, or a wheelchair,” says PSA writer and director Todd Cerveris of The Woods Productions, New York City. “Some conditions that require service dogs are physical and immediately apparent; others are more hidden. Both deserve to be respected.”

According to the organization, handlers of psychiatric service dogs--and service-dogs-in-training--are granted access rights in the state of Iowa identical to that of handlers of seeing-eye dogs, which enjoy a longer history of recognition and acceptance by the public.

The campaign was officially launched at a Mar. 28 event held at the Gold Star Museum, Camp Dodge, Johnston, Iowa. “So many businesses and organizations donated time, talent, and resources to this project, we wanted to celebrate this as a shared achievement,” says Nicole Shumate (“shoe-mayt”), executive director for Paws & Effect. “We also wanted to introduce our next litter of puppies, who will be named and trained in honor of the Iowa National Guard soldiers currently deployed to Afghanistan.”

The campaign recently won a Gold “ADDY” from the Des Moines Chapter of the American Advertising Federation (AAF) in the Public Service category, and a Silver “ADDY” in a four-state district comprising Iowa, Kansas, Nebraska, and Missouri AAF chapters. The campaign has advanced to national competition.

“Each year, more than 50,000 entries are submitted to the ADDY awards,” says Kathleen Riessen, 2nd lieutenant governor of AAF District 9. “To be eligible to compete among the top 3,000 nationwide is a huge honor and tribute to the high quality of the work.”

Participants and donors in the “We Serve with Honor” PSA campaign and launch event included:

• Uniform manufacturers Propper International Inc., Weldon Spring, Mo.
• The EnAble and Valor employee resource groups of PepsiCo/Quaker Oats, Cedar Rapids, Iowa.
• Hy-Vee grocery store: 5750 Merle Hay Road, Johnston, Iowa.
• Canine Craze Performance Center, 3101 104th St. #3, Urbandale, Iowa.
• Off-duty soldiers and airmen of the Iowa National Guard.

In addition to training service and mobility dogs, Paws & Effect provides “Pet Partners” for animal-assisted therapy and activities. It also regularly conducts agility trials as fund-raisers. Because it is a 501(c)3 organization, donations to Paw & Effect are tax-deductible.

For more information on the Paws & Effect organization, visit: paws-effect.blogspot.com

Selections from the PSA campaign, including "outtakes," can also be viewed at: www.thewoodsproductions.com

Red Bulls Returning, Part 3

Offering a potentially dark lining to the otherwise silvery cloud of Minnesota Public Radio's recent "The Red Bulls: Beyond Deployment" package was the last section of a story written to provide historical context. "Welcome home," read the headline, "... for now." (Italics mine.) Five paragraphs followed:

The latest Minnesota National Guard death came in October 2009, from Afghanistan. George Cauley, 24, of Walker, Minn., died from roadside bomb injuries.

The commander of the Minnesota National Guard, Adj. Gen. Larry Shellito, called Afghanistan a very dangerous place and said more Minnesota Guard troops will be deployed there.

During a recent appearance on Minnesota Public Radio's Midday program, Shellito did not offer much concrete information about future deployments to Afghanistan.

"It will be relatively significant in size. We anticipate they'll be working in the key sectors in Afghanistan," Shelito said.

There have been few specifics about the role the Minnesota National Guard will play in Afghanistan. All that has been officially confirmed is that 12 Guard soldiers will head there this spring to train Afghan troops.

So ... what are you trying to say, MPR? Why try to spook the cattle?

Part 3 of 3

Red Bulls Returning, Part 2

Back in the day, the officers and NCOs and radio-jockeys who worked in a unit's Tactical Operations Center (TOC, pronounced "talk) would track troop movements on the battlefield by moving little markers on big maps. Or, more accurately, we'd draw on clear sheets of acetate, which were layered over topographic maps. Each layer of acetate might depict a different set of data: One might show known minefields and other obstacles the enemy had put into place, while another might depict friendly supply routes.

A lot of times, it was only after one layer of acetate was placed over another that one came to understand what was happening out on the ground.

I'm not sure of any conclusions to make, but I was struck by the possible implications of two disparate and different maps presented in Minnesota Public Radio's recent "Red Bulls: Beyond Deployment" package I mentioned yesterday.

Specifically, I wonder if anyone smarter than I am regarding rural issues and mental healthcare has overlaid the infographic by MPR's Than Tibbets, which depicts the hometowns of the returning Red Bull soldiers, onto the Google-Maps-generated depiction of the current locations of veteran service clinics.

To paraphrase everyone's favorite Kevin Costner movie about Iowa (no, it wasn't "Dances with Hogs"): "Build it closer to where they live, and they may come."

Part 2 of 3

Red Bulls Returning, Part 1

Minnesota Public Radio has recently posted an in-depth, multi-layered, multi-media coverage of the return of the 34th Infantry Division. The U.S. 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division comprises both Minnesota and Iowa units, among others.

It's great and creative stuff, and I can't even begin to do it all justice here. Of particular note, however, are the creative touches such as superimposing the outline of Minnesota over the map of Iraq. What an easy-to-comprehend way to show people the distances involved!

For Red Bull soldiers such as me, who face a potential deployment later this year, the Minnesota Public Radio coverage offers a smorgasbord of insights. Do yourself and your family a favor, and go the overall link right here.

Major topics include:

"Family and War" including discussions of using technology to keep in touch with your family, and Blue Star Mothers (mothers of deployed soldiers) support programs.

"Who are the Red Bulls?" includes discussions of the deployment's effects on recruiting, and the missions pursued by the Minnesota National Guard soldiers.

"Adjusting to Civilian Life" includes two great articles--one on transitioning back to work, one on transitioning back to home. It also covers veterans helping veterans, and even a "VIP center" for soldiers at the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport.

"Mental Illness and Treatment" leads off with "new ways to diagnose Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)," and makes the technical more personal with the story of one Minnesota veteran's post-2004-deployment experience. There's a great story on the (lack of?) availability of mental health resources for rural veterans.

"Living with Physical Injuries" includes some good perspective on the types of injuries most often suffered by our troops.

Finally, there's an "Interactive Guide to Coming Home by and for Veterans and Their Families."

Good stuff! I hope that some major news venue in Iowa--the Des Moines Register, perhaps, or Iowa Public Radio--manages to put similar thought and talent to my own unit's deployment. More thoughts to come ...

Part 1 of 3