Our soldiers aren’t always getting the help they need

When my husband returned from his tour in Afghanistan, the journalist part of my brain knew he and his comrades had some bloody good yarns to tell.

Many had saved lives, went above and beyond, stared death in the face and gave it the middle finger for the sake of their brother or sister beside them.

It was an experience us at home still fathom to ever really understand.

However, the army wife part of my brain wanted to wrap my man in bubble wrap and tell him everything was going to be fine.

Truth was, I had no idea how things would turn out for him.

I had even less of an idea how others on his tour – marred by the deaths of five fellow soldiers – would hold up.

So it was with a heavy heart I read at the weekend about the GREER BERRY experience of Trooper James Baldwin, who served alongside my husband, and his battle in gaining assistance with his PTSD diagnosis.

Baldwin, after leaving the army, braved the public health system and was assigned a psychologist who he described as being ‘‘ill-equipped’’ to deal with his condition.

He has spoken out in the hope that others in his position know that they are not alone and they, too, can get the assistance they need and deserve. I felt deeply for him. During my time as a partner of a deployed person, I saw a civilian psychologist – at the expense and encouragement of the Defence Force - to help process the situation we found ourselves in.

The independent psychologist I was assigned was, in a word, terrible. Her patronising, offensive and inaccurate comments, in which she spoke at length to me about Vietnam, highlighted to me just how much we lacked trained specialists in modern-day veteran issues outside of the military in the ‘‘real world’’.

I gave honest feedback to the Defence Force and they were thankful, albeit somewhat embarrassed by my experience, but supportive of any further help I needed.

At the time, I remember thinking how glad I was that I had that experience in some ways, and that some change might come from it, hopefully preventing another partner from having to deal with such out-of-touch comments that could leave a lasting effect.

That psychologist openly admitted to me that Vietnam was the gift that kept giving to her. Forty years on and she was still cashing cheques based on wounded souls drifting in and out of her practice.

We cannot, as a country, accept that Afghanistan veterans receive the same treatment.

The past has given us so many lessons to be learned from, and we have to ensure they are put in to practice.

Baldwin’s brave action of coming forward to tell of his experience will do wonders in letting others he served with, and many thousands of other modernday veterans, know that it is OK if they are not coping too.

It’s no-one’s fault. There are no inquiries needed. There are no scalps to call for on a stick. It’s just an occupational hazard that comes with the territory, but it’s one that we have thankfully not had to deal with on a large scale for many years.

But when we look at what happened with some Vietnam vets, we see a generation of predominantly men who were raised by vets from the world wars. We see two generations of silence compounding on each other.

We look at the suicide statistics in New Zealand and see men overwhelmingly over-represented in almost every age demographic, especially among older people.

We hear of the potential reasons and it almost all comes back to the hiding of emotions, the silence.

From talking with veterans from Afghanistan, many appear to be battling with a form of moral injury, never fully allowing themselves the time to process what they did and saw, how they felt then and how they feel now.

Many are silent, either through their own choice, or because they do not know where to turn.

It is the comradeship through shared experience that will see many of them through.

But it is the overall narrative that will lead some to darker places.

It is so important that civilians gain a better understanding of what our military personnel experience – the good and the not so good – for everyone to understand exactly what has been sacrificed.

It’s not about attributing blame. It’s not about endless inquiries and it’s not about politics.

It’s about the people behind the uniform and the very real risk they face as they head into a society that is ill informed.

For my part, my experience with military life has prompted a career change.

It’s one thing to tell people’s stories, but my interest has now turned to the psychology behind people’s behaviour, so I hope my studies and research will eventually be of use to help others – especially military families.

And I hope that all vets, no matter what their experience either here or abroad are, are afforded the access to quality care in a timely manner.

The independent review of the Veterans’ Support Act, due to be released by the end of 2017, will hopefully address these issues and can’t come soon enough for those in crisis and their families.