There is no denying that too many of our troops returning from Iraq and Afghanistan are having a very difficult time coping with their lives back home—emotionally, financially, medically, mentally and in so many other ways. Homelessness, suicide, domestic violence, divorce, drug and alcohol addiction and even serious crime are some of the symptoms and consequences.
We have read, seen and heard such stories much too often. Equally all too often, those stories have very tragic endings or, as the New York Times says, “Such stories often end in death or prison, the veteran in either case lost to the abyss.”
But this may not be the case in the still ongoing story of Iraq war veteran Staff Sgt. Brad Eifert—an infantry gunner and a truck commander during two of the war’s most violent years—who “joined an increasing number of deployed veterans who, after returning home, plunge into a downward spiral, propelled by post-traumatic stress disorder or other emotional problems.”
While some who read his story—about his “crimes”—may agree with a Missouri prosecutor that war trauma should not give veterans a pass in the criminal justice system, that “P.T.S.D. is not a get out of jail free card,” others may agree with a new and growing legal and law enforcement opinion. One wherein a growing number of experts argue that “a veteran’s criminal actions appear to stem from the stresses of war” and that a better solution than traditional prosecution and punishment may be called for. They claim that “[T]he society that trained them and sent them into harm’s way… bears some responsibility for their rehabilitation.” And “they point to other exceptions in the legal system like diversion programs for drug offenders and the mentally ill.”
This is how Sgt. Eifert’s “standoff” and possible “crime spree” started on an August night in the woods near his home in Okemos, Michigan:
Staff Sgt. Brad Eifert circled through the woods behind his house here, holding a .45-caliber pistol. The police were out there somewhere and, one way or the other, he was ready to die.
He raised the gun to his head and then lowered it. Then he fired nine rounds.
“They’re going to take me down, they’re going to finish me off, so,” he remembers thinking, “finish me off.”
Yes, the police officers subdued him with a Taser, arrested him, put him in the Ingham County Jail and “charged him with five counts of assault with intent to murder the officers, each carrying a potential life sentence.” And, yes, he would probably become another veteran “lost to the abyss.”
However,
… something different happened in Mr. Eifert’s case. Headed for disaster, he was spared through a novel court program and an unusual coming together of a group of individuals — including a compassionate judge, a flexible prosecutor, a tenacious lawyer and an amenable police officer — who made exceptions and negotiated compromises to help him.
Whether you have already made up your mind that this veteran should receive special treatment or that they should “throw away the key,” please read the full story here.
That is the least we can do to begin to understand the plight of so many of our combat veterans, who we send to fight our wars—declared or undeclared, justified or not —under the most appalling circumstances in forsaken, far-away lands.
Image: Courtesy Boston.com (Iraq war veteran Jeffrey Lennon, suffering from PTSD.)
The author is a retired U.S. Air Force officer and a writer.