Caring for the invisible wounds that warriors bring home
-
Derrick Earley, 23, of Fulton County, has post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD, due to the multiple explosions he survived and the carnage he witnessed as a 19-year-old Marine serving in Iraq. -
Gunnery Sergeant Michael Palarino, right, of the U.S. Marine Corps' Wounded Warrior Regiment, helps Derrick Earley make arrangements to enter an in-patient post-traumatic stress clinic in Barstow, Calif. Mr. Palarino marvels at "the determination, the perseverance, the courage and honor" exhibited by Derrick and other service members with PTSD. "He's a hero." -
Derrick Earley sits under a 6-year-old portrait of himself as a 17-year-old Marine recruit at Parris Island, S.C. -
Derrick Earley, right, talks with his father, Rick Earley, left, and neighbor Steve Thomas near the Earley's home.
Share with others:
WELLS TANNERY, Pa. -- Derrick Earley steers a four-wheeler up the gravel driveway to his father's hand-built stone home and climbs off. Fit and goateed, the 23-year-old is wearing a cutoff T-shirt, camouflage shorts and cap as he shyly greets visitors, not quite making eye contact, not quite avoiding it, either.
He is surrounded by his father's 300-acre farm amid the grandeur of Fulton County. So breathtaking is this area about 10 miles northeast of Breezewood it is difficult to absorb -- rolling hills, valleys peppered with lush forests, well-groomed hay fields, and, miles away, majestic Sideling Hill, part of the Allegheny Mountains.
This is God's country. But for Derrick, even this area he loves -- indeed, everywhere the former Marine corporal finds himself since returning from the Iraq war in 2007-- is No Man's Land.
He walks slowly into the house. Hanging in the living room is a color portrait of a 17-year-old wearing a crisp, sharp Marine blue dress uniform. In the 6-year-old photograph, the warrior stares into the camera with focused eyes. The photo is so striking it could be a recruitment poster: "The Few. The Proud. The Marines."
"Hey, Derrick, that's you," a visitor exclaims.
A beat.
"That used to be me," Derrick responds, barely above a whisper.
No longer is he the confident, skilled Marine in the picture, the warrior who went to Iraq to fight. Today he is a young man terrorized daily by the images in his mind -- the horrific memories of what he saw, what was done to him and what he did himself during his service to America halfway around the world.
For Derrick and thousands of returning soldiers like him, there are no visible wounds, but they are casualties of the Iraqi and Afghanistan wars nonetheless. There are no Purple Hearts given for the images, the sounds, the actions of war that swirl in their minds, causing anger, guilt, anxiety, bitterness, confusion, insomnia, nightmares, hyper-arousal, flashbacks and, not insignificantly for someone so young, a loss of hope. Often they self-medicate with alcohol and drugs. Some end it all with suicide.
Clinically known as post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD, the condition is an anxiety disorder some people acquire after living through or witnessing an event that causes intense fear, helplessness or horror. Science cannot explain why some people experience it and others do not. Courage, fortitude, training do not enter into the equation.
Less clinical and perhaps more apropos, given its poetic sensibility, is the name given the condition during the Civil War.
Soldier's heart.
Derrick loved "House of Pain," the name given a Marine physical training program of running, pull-ups, hiking and other extreme exercises for high school students. On Thursday nights, while at James Buchanan High School in Mercersburg, where he played football and wrestled, the farm boy who did chores when he awoke and before bed delighted in the physical challenges a Marine recruiter dished out for future Marines.
Derrick looked up to the infantry veteran of two tours in Afghanistan. The recruiter was down-to-earth, a straight shooter, honest, honorable, disciplined, a Marine's Marine -- all qualities Derrick respected.
First Published November 7, 2010 12:00 am
