RE:
http://hnn.us/blogs/comments/49497.html#comment
The Return of Shell Shock from The First World War to Iraq.
The present military situation in the Middle East is somewhat
unprecedented, in that the United States is trying to fight a land
war with an aging, affluent population, which has no surplus sons,
and no large-scale hazardous occupations (*), and at the same
time, it is attempting to do this without conscription. The result
is that the whole load gets piled onto a comparatively small
number of men who happened to be already enlisted in the
Army or Marine Corps. The Air Force and Navy lost little
time in protecting their own manpower supplies by giving
early discharges to young men whom they might otherwise have
been expected to make into naval infantry, after the manner
of the German Kriegsmarine and Luftwaffe divisions during the
Second World War. If comparatively few troops are in-theater
at any given time, that simply means that they get worked
more intensely. Many of the noncombat jobs which might have
provided a safety valve get assigned to contractors, who
can be anything from Philippino guest workers to South
African mercenaries. The contractors have not signed enlistment
papers, and are of course free to leave. But in another sense, the
situation is not unprecedented-- It is simply a return to the
British and French experience in the First World War.
(*) It used to be that underground coal miners proverbially
made the best soldiers, because they were occupationally
fearless. Very few things were as bad as the mine.
The First World War set new records for length and
continuousness of combat. All kinds of new issues
emerged. One was the concept of
"Shell-Shock." Shell Shock was invented as a diagnostic category
to describe men who had had a near miss from a shell near
their dug-outs, and had thereafter begun displaying mental
symptoms, ie. fearfulness. Shell shock was viewed as a kind of
concussion, and therefore did not imply any moral
disapprobation. The original concept of shell
shock in the British army during the First World War has to be
understood in terms of an environment in which 1) the likelihood
of ultimately surviving combat was approaching vanishing point, 2)
troops were systematically maiming themselves in order to become
eligible for discharge, and were sometimes punished for it, 3)
some troops were progressing to more desperate measures, such as
mass desertion and mutiny, and 4) the authorities were
systematically standing runaways up in front of firing squads in
an attempt to keep the troops from all deciding to go home.
Naturally, under the circumstances, objections to this had to be
couched in terms of organic injury. Nothing less would have
sufficed under the circumstances: in fact, it had to be
considerably graver than, for example, having one's trigger finger
shot off. The injury had to be seen as one which could easily have
been lethal. Blast-induced concussion met these requirements. A
certain plausibility was added by the fact that there had been
cases of men being killed by blast alone-- their dugouts protected
them against everything except explosive shock waves (see Moore,
pp. 73, 81, 89, 92, 100, 103, 132, 152, 163).
American participation in the First World War was very late.
For all practical purposes the United States did not have a land
army in 1917. What the United States had, was a constabulary for
fighting Indians, Mexican bandits, etc. It took the better part of
a year to put an army together. The first significant
American forces commenced operations in France at the end of May,
1918, and the expeditionary force only reached full strength in
August-September. The effective duration of the American First
World War was therefore only three to five
months (McDonald, esp. pp. 390-400). General Pershing simply
did not have to confront the issues of morale and combat
fatigue which were being faced by the British Field
Marshal Haig and the French Marshal Petain, whose troops
were wearied by four years of war, issues which would
eventually be faced by General Eisenhower to a limited
degree, and General Westmoreland to a greater degree.
The United States strategy in the Second World War was essentially
a naval one. Thus, the Army strategy was, perforce, essentially
an amphibious one. It involved accumulating masses of men in
a safe area, and then putting them ashore somewhere to win a
decisive battle in a short period of time. By preference, the
amphibious landing was placed astride the enemy lines of
communication, with a view to forcing the enemy to retreat
tens or hundred of miles in a very short period of time. The
same objective was pursued with armored breakthroughs,
albeit with lesser success. When enemy resistance developed, the
customary solution was not to fling troops at the
front line over and over again, but to launch a new
amphibious assault. It was only very late in the war,
when the Axis had retreated into a small space, that combat
became anything like continuous. Under these circumstances,
keeping up with the battle required a positive degree of
initiative on the part of most of the pursuing troops.
One example which comes to mind would be the British
Airborne troops who stole a road steamroller and
used it as an improvised personal jeep on their way across Germany
(Gregory, p. 148). Eddie Slovik, later shot for cowardice,
arrived in France in August 1944, and avoided combat until
October, not by any actual act of desertion, but
simply by failing to exercise initiative in catching up with the
battle front, and by making himself useful to a
line-of-communication unit. His companion during this period was a
man named John Tankey, who fought for a month before being
wounded, spent several months in hospital, missing the rest
of the war in Europe, and then went home to Detroit to
become an ordinary factory worker, in an automobile
factory, doing one of the most physically demanding jobs
which existed in American industry (Huie, pp. 120-40).
The periods when fighting was obligatory were comparatively
short. Most troops were out of battle before
they became due for a breakdown. The idea of Shell Shock was
superseded by more psychiatric categories for the
exceptions, categories which of course did have at
least a covert pejorative aspect.
In 1945, the Army instituted a system of "points" as an equitable
means of determining who would be sent home first. In the Korean
war, this system evolved into a system of individual rotation
(Fehrenbach, pp. 536-38). The notion of individual rotation became
explicit in Vietnam. The whole system was upheld by conscription,
the draft. The individual soldier knew that once he had done
his fair share, someone else would be drafted to take his place.
Even so, morale suffered a bit.
In Vietnam, there was a comparatively low
rate of diagnosed combat neurosis. This was, as as much as
anything, an indication of the way the military authorities
chose to deal with men who could not or would not fight. Such
troops were permitted to transfer (subject to milder or
harsher conditions respecting extension of tour and service) to
the units manning the defensive perimeters of large bases. Since
these lines were fixed, even a modicum of labor would insure the
rapid improvement of their fortifications to the point that they
became what Anthony Herbert disdainfully referred to as '22
caliber Maginot lines.' (Herbert, p. 128) At the same time, these
lines were comparatively unlikely to come under intensive attack,
except for the special cases of Khe Sanh and the Tet
offensive. The Viet Cong simply did not have the resources to
attack fixed positions without expending entire regiments, and
this they could not do very often. At this stage, automobiles were
simply too much of an expensive American luxury good for car bombs
to be feasible. According to Herbert, who was contemptuous of the
defensive lines' occupants' utter lack of discipline,
slovenliness, etc., the troops occupying them were largely just
left alone, allowed to do more or less as they pleased. That was
probably good from a therapeutic standpoint. By contrast,
recognition of psychiatric symptoms was deliberately made hard to
get, in the interests of maintaining morale, since it would have
implied early evacuation and honorable discharge for the lucky
sufferer. In the nature of things, this meant that a high
proportion of the psychiatric cases that cropped up involved
someone so disturbed as to be a candidate for involuntary
commitment. For example, the navy doctor John Parish cites a
case of a disturbed young marine who arrived in Parrish's MASH
unit, babbling out his feelings of love and hate for his gunnery
sergeant. It subsequently transpired that he had shot the sergeant
(in the head, which would presumably be fatal). Naturally
that meant that his emotional problems had to be taken seriously
(Parrish, pp. 136-38). The military lawyer John
Stevens Berry cites a similar case, in which a soldier, partly
drunk, and partly in a disassociated paranoiac episode,
fragged his best friend. Berry got the man acquitted,
by appealing to the pity of the court-martial
members, and persuading them to deal with the episode
as an accident (Berry, pp.14-18). By contrast, Goldman and
Fuller offer the account of a soldier, who, getting crazier and
crazier, and unable to convince anyone that he was not
malingering, ended up accepting a transfer in exchange for an
extension of his enlistment. He deserted shortly after
returning to the United States, and this, of course, brought the
disciplinary machinery into play (Goldman, 76-78, 183-90). In
effect, the army's policy tended to define battle neurosis cases
first as cowardice (considered as a venial rather than a mortal
sin), and later, if it persisted outside of combat, as bad
conduct.
Psychiatric and quasi-psychiatric issues emerged afterwards, when
Vietnam Veterans began to experience social problems
(Post-Traumatic Stress) or assorted health problems
(Agent Orange). The latter, in particular, are hard to
separate from the normal experience of aging men. (see Scott).
Desert Storm was about as short and sweet as a war could be.
However, it yielded comparable cases involving exposure to
depleted uranium, a toxic metal used in anti-tank
rounds.
Now we come to the present war. It was supposed to be over in a
few weeks, yet by now, practically every soldier in the army, who
is not either a trainee or already serving in the Middle
East, has spent at least a year in Iraq or Afghanistan, and some
have spent more, with no end in sight. Increasing the size of the
army is no solution, unless one can find additional recruits to
staff out this larger army. However, conscription is just
not politically feasible. There is no strictly
American precedent since the Civil War, but the British and French
experience in the First World War is the closest existing
analogy.Over the last year or so, it has become
apparent that Shell Shock has returned. The forms are
eerily familiar, as is the shape of the ensuing political
controversy. Nothing much has been said, which
was not said in 1916-1918, during the "War to End All
Wars."
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Bibliography:
John Stevens Barry, Those Gallant Men: On Trial in Vietnam,
Presidio Press, Novato, Calif., 1984. Memoir of a JAG officer,
covering the full range of cases he defended or prosecuted
in Vietnam.
Goldman, Peter, and Tony Fuller, Charlie Company:
What Vietnam did to Us, Ballantine Books, New York, 1984,
orig. pub. 1983
Herbert, Anthony B. (Lt. Col Ret.) with James T. Wooten, Soldier,
1973, (paperback edition, Dell Publishing co., Inc, New York,
1973).
Parrish, John A., M. D., 12, 20 & 5: A Doctor's Year in
Vietnam, Penguin Books, Inc., Baltimore, 1973, orig. pub. 1972.
Charles B. McDonald, chapters 17 & 18 ("World War I: The First
Three Years" and "World War I: The US Army Overseas"),
in Maurice Matloff, ed., American Military History, Office
of the Chief of Military History, United States Army,
Washington, D.C., 1969.
William Moore, _The Thin Yellow Line_, 1974
(Wordsworth Edition, 1999).
William Bradford Huie, The Execution of Private Slovik, 1954, 1970
(Dell paperback edition, 1971, New York).
Barry Gregory, British Airborne Troops, 1940-45, Doubleday
& Co., Garden City, New York, 1974
T. R. Fehrenbach, This Kind of War: Korea: A Study in
Unpreparedness, 1963, (Pocket Books [Cardinal] paperback edition,
1964, New York).
Wilbur J. Scott, PTSD and Agent Orange: Implications for a
Sociology of Veterans' Issues, Armed Forces & Society, Summer
1992.
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Web Sources Relating to the Current Episode.
http://www.usatoday.com/news/washington/2007-05-03-brain-injury-tests_N.htm
http://www.washingtonmonthly.com/archives/individual/2007_05/011254.php
http://www.intel-dump.com/posts/1178318983.shtml
http://www.csmonitor.com/2007/0508/p99s01-duts.html
http://www.ipsnews.net/news.asp?idnews=37732
http://agonist.org/sean_paul_kelley/20070517/why_does_the_white_house_oppose
http://www.washingtonmonthly.com/archives/individual/2008_04/013551.php
http://bluegirlredmissouri.blogspot.com/2008/04/human-beings-have-limits.html
(04/19/2008 12:52 PM)
[In response to a question about enlistments expiring, or being
extended, I added:]
The term you are
thinking of is probably stop-loss. Enlistment is not a
contractual arrangement, but a status arrangement,
like marriage. A soldier does not become a civilian by
virtue of the expiration of time, but by virtue of
the receipt of a discharge certificate. A discharge
certificate is not granted by right, but according to
the convenience of the service. In the American military,
the enlistment is for eight years, some of which
may be spent in inactive status ("Individual Ready Reserve"), but
of course there are recalls and stop-loss orders. It seems to
be agreed that a discharge certificate, once granted,
is final, but such discharge certificates (either from
active duty, or from the military per se) can be withheld
under stop-loss. Practically, the military can hang onto
troops until age and progressive debility make it advisable to
grant them discharges.
Here is an extreme case: Robert Russell Garwood. Born, April
1, 1946. In the Marines by some time in 1963, ie., at
the age of seventeen. Captured by Viet Cong, September 28, 1965.
Records flagged for disciplinary purposes, based
on reports that Garwood had collaborated with the
North Vietnamese, 1967. Arrested on board a USAF transport,
immediately after having been released by the North
Vietnamese, March 22, 1979. Convicted of collaboration
charges by court-martial, sentenced to be reduced to
the lowest rank, stripped of all pay and allowances,
and dishonorably discharged. February 5, 1980.
Marine Corps, in June, 1982, refuses payment of $147,000 in
accumulated back pay since 1965. (Winston Groom and Duncan
Spencer, Conversations with the Enemy: The Story of PFC
Robert Garwood, 1983, pp. 63, 78, 313-14, 334-35, 390-92,
back cover)