Ex-soldier’s fight for recognition
A former soldier’s lifechanging injuries *ere just the beginning of a battle for help and recognition. Amy Ridout reports.
Dion Taka looks at the framed photos of his fallen comrades, recalling the jokes and camaraderie they shared. “Looking at these photos, I can hear their laughter,” the former soldier says. “I promised I wouldn’t let people forget their names when I got home.”
But Taka, who suffered life-changing injuries during the Battle of Baghak in Afghanistan, has also struggled for recognition.
For many people, World War II is front and centre when they think about what a military veteran looks like, he says.
“I’m constantly told I’m not a veteran. People will say, ‘You’re too young’.”
On August 4, 2012, Private Taka’s unit was heading to assist the Afghan National Police when its vehicles were caught in a “choke point” at the exposed base of a steep, narrow valley.
As he tried to help a wounded comrade, Taka was shot through the base of his spine, the bullet shattering his pelvis. During the battle, Lance Corporal Rory Malone and Lance Corporal Pralli Durrer were killed, and five others were wounded.
Days later, three more soldiers from
Taka’s unit – Corporal Luke Tamatea, Lance Corporal Jacinda Baker and Private Richard Harris – were killed in a bomb blast.
In all, during New Zealand’s 20-year deployment, 10 Kiwi soldiers lost their lives in Afghanistan.
Rescued by a United States chopper under heavy fire, Taka was revived in the air by medics. He died twice on the operating table, then faced a gruelling journey back to New Zealand for further treatment.
But Taka’s battle didn’t end in Afghanistan. Back on home soil, reunited with his wife and three young children, he spent months and years fighting for a diagnosis, for help, and for recognition.
A diagnosis of complex regional pain syndrome explained the pain that felt like needles coming up through his foot. “My legs would burn and swell, or drain of blood and turn blue.”
Little is known about the chronic pain disorder, which is triggered by injury. Taka describes it as being stuck in an unrelenting pain loop. For years, despite a spinal cord stimulator implant and strong medication, the pain was constant.
The condition, also known as suicide disease, sent him to some dark places, Taka says. One several occasions, he says, he contemplated taking his own life.
“I wanted to be there for my kids, but at the same time I didn’t want to put them through my mood swings.”
There was no clear route to getting the help he needed, and Taka’s calls for help went unanswered, he says.
“We have had a military since the 1800s, but yet setting up a support network for wounded soldiers was new.”
After his suicide attempt, Taka finally got some support from Veterans Affairs and made a 10-day trip to Los Angeles to join a suicide prevention programme.
“I learned a lot – meeting people and hearing their stories humbled me. I got home and decided I’d never make that decision or think like that again.”
Life improved when Delta, his service dog, came into the picture. Trained to de-escalate Taka’s anxiety and to help him access his medication, the white shepherd changed his daily life for the better.
A few doors have opened along the way, too. Taka has twice competed in the Invictus Games, run a half-marathon in Minnesota,
Dion Taka and embarked on remembrance rides for his fallen comrades.
Eighteen months ago he met Ana, now his fiancee, and moved to Motueka, where the couple are renovating a home together. A trained carpenter, Taka is happy to be using his skills to build a new life.
Around the time he met Ana, Taka weaned himself off his pain medication, embracing a holistic healing approach, and working to change his mindset. “Creating new neural pathways, accepting what is. That was the turning factor – accepting that pain and not fighting it.”
The Motueka RSA has also been an invaluable support: a second home with a close-knit, community feel, he says.
“The support I have here is the support that I was hoping for when I came home.
“You can be yourself. That woman to your left, the guy on your right, they have a fair understanding of what you’ve been through, because they have been through it themselves.”
Taka has never shied away from media attention, which makes him unusual among returned servicemen, he says.
“Guys won’t speak out about their experiences. I’m an anomaly – I have always spoken up about what’s right and wrong.
“I don’t want anyone else to go through what I have been through. It’s not conducive to healing – it creates a darkness.”
By speaking up, Taka also wants to honour his fallen friends and remind us of the veterans of modern conflict, many of whom live with deep physical and mental wounds. “People don’t acknowledge they’re here. They’re in the shadows – they can’t fit back into civilian life.”
On Anzac Day, Taka will join other returned service personnel and the community at a dawn service at the Motueka war memorial.
Although World War II ended almost 79 years ago, Taka has met veterans whose memories of that conflict are as sharp and vivid as his own recollection of the Battle of Baghak.
“What these veterans have given for their country is second to none. Their memories never fade – they still remember their fallen comrades.”
While it is important to honour these service personnel, we should also remember those who came after them, he says.
Those like Lance Corporal Jacinda Baker, Taka says, turning back to the photographs of the comrades he will never forget. The 26-year-old medic had dreams of buying a motorbike before she was killed in action.
And Private Richard “Harry” Harris, who he says was “a good bugger, a good mate. He always had a smile, laughing and joking”.
“They’re veterans, too, you know – the forgotten ones.”
“I don’t want anyone else to go through what I have been through.”