Marine Corporal Adam Ankarlo

My son was supposed to be in one of two helicopters sent to cover the Iraq border on the day its citizens put purple on their fingers to celebrate a free and democratic vote. He stowed his gear and prepared to climb aboard when his commander shouted, “Ankarlo, move to the other chopper.” He followed the order. As both aircraft floated above the hot, sandy desert at night, the first one crashed, killing all 31 aboard. Survivor’s guilt still plagues him.

PTSD. I had never heard of those four letters before we went into this most recent war. Now they consume me, and I’m drowning in questions. Why aren’t we doing anything to help these soldiers? Almost one in three returning servicemen and women has PTSD – almost a third! Where is the Pentagon? Where is Congress? Where is G.W.? Has the nation that announced “we support the warriors but not the war” now abandoned them too?

And what about that most trusted of resources: the Veterans Administration? Where is it when our men and women really need it? So far, I can’t seem to find what purpose it serves. I know those are tough words, but when my son visited the Carl T. Hayden VA Medical Center in Phoenix and sat day after day for five or six hours at a time and barely got past the receptionist, I started wondering, is this how our country takes care of its own?

I asked a trusted military source if the funding is in place to help our returning vets, and his answer scared me to my core. He told me that U.S. leaders realize the cost to take care of our military is climbing to historically high levels and that some systems have been put in place to make getting help so difficult that many will give up out of frustration. It seems the slowdown and/or rejection will save billions of dollars. It sounds outlandish, but as I look back at the treatment of vets in years gone by and some of the imbecilic strategies foisted on us almost daily by our elected leaders, I am quickly sold.

I shared my son’s story with my KTAR (92.3 FM) audience, and the VA’s public relations representative called to say that his story is an isolated incident and challenged me to ask other vets to call in and give the other side. A few did. Meanwhile, hundreds of others wrote, called, stopped by and e-mailed to echo every single word I shared. Adam’s lucky: He has a family who loves him deeply and is willing to invest the time and money to help him. Indeed, to give him a fighting chance, he spent a month with a bevy of California physicians who poked and prodded and used X-rays, MRIs and other scans to get a handle on his condition. 

This father’s prayer is that his boy will be restored to the full man who lit up rooms with his joy and graciousness – the man who boarded the transport plane for the “Sandbox.” But what about the tens of thousands of his fellow servicemen and women? Where do they turn for healing?

Before you get the notion that this is isolated to the military, think again. Healthcare in America is in shambles, and it’s only getting worse. If the government can so thoroughly screw things up for men and women who put their lives on the line, what should we expect when it enters the civilian world with universal healthcare plans and other politically prudent strategies? Should there be a program that allows people to have access to affordable insurance? Absolutely! Should the government provide it? I think you know my answer to that question.

Do we as a nation owe every single veteran more than lip service and an occasional “good job?” I think you know the answer to that one, too.