The New Shell Shock
A recent front page report in the Toronto Star wondered why 20% of soldiers who serve in Afghanistan come down with various forms of stress disorder.
Theories range from repeated long term missions causing psychological problems, to the possibility that quick diagnoses give the impression of increased PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder).
In varying degrees, all of the above may be true. But the real cause of mental and emotional trauma linked with service in Afghanistan is IEDs (improvised explosive devices) that are a threat whenever a vehicle ventures outside the confines of the Canadian base.
There is no foolproof defense against roadside bombs, which cause huge craters and wreck tanks. The threat of explosive devices is always there – some planted on the return trip of a supposedly safe route.
For a soldier, the uncertainty and never knowing causes greater anxiety than being on patrol, or attacking an enemy position where dangers are obvious. It’s part of the job he/she is trained and is conditioned to accept. A curious fatalism takes hold.
Being shot at is less worrisome than the possibility of unexpectedly being blown up.
In the trenches of WWI, where casualties were abysmally high by today’s standards, soldiers became fatalistic that somewhere there was a bullet with their name on it; that nothing could prevent what was fated to happen.
It’s not contact with the Taliban enemy that stresses Canadian soldiers today. It’s the not knowing, the unpredictability, the random chance that being in a vehicle runs the risk of a roadside bomb.
How can that reality not cause stress in normal people?
It’s a different world today. In WWI, “shell shock” was the euphemistic description for acute stress disorder. Among the Allies, only Australia seemed to understand that when men broke down in the trenches, it wasn’t cowardice or shirking, but the mind rebelling against what the body had to endure.
On occasion, the British, French and Canadians executed, by firing squad, soldiers who deserted the front or were believed to be cowards when in fact they were mental and emotional casualties.
The Aussies decided that a soldier in their volunteer army who broke down and could take no more, should not be executed for his frailty, as was the British army’s custom.
In the between wars period, “shell shock” evolved into LMF (lack of moral fibre) which carried a cruel stigma. In WWII, LMF was replaced with the more acceptable “battle fatigue” which, in itself, was misleading and implied the sufferer had seen more action than most.
Today, there is little stigma in PTSD, whose poster boy is retired Lt. Gen. Romeo Dallaire, now a Liberal Senator, and remembered as the failed commander of UN troops in Rwanda whose warnings of impending genocide were ignored.
Soldiers tend to see Dallaire’s PTSD as originating from his failure to act when he witnessed 10 Belgian soldiers being massacred. Civilians prefer to think genocide affected him emotionally, and thus revere his humanity.
Regardless, he has helped make PTSD an honourable affliction.
In the early 1990s, there were reports of recruits exposed to army training films coming down with PTSD – evidence of its acceptability.
Twenty percent is high for PTSD in Afghanistan. In past wars, about 4% of soldiers were affected. But in past wars, minefields and booby traps, while lethal, were not the constant hazard that roadside bombs are today.