Jolene Guzman, Staff Writer





COOS BAY — When Stacy McLain volunteered to go to Vietnam, he was a teenager — a 17-year-old eager to serve his country.

“I wanted to do the right thing,” he said.

Two years later, he returned to his country a man — and a different person.

The 56-year-old’s family had a history of military service. His father and mother served in the U.S. Navy during World War II. His brother was in the National Guard and another built equipment for the military. McLain’s mother, Betty Meister, 86, said she was proud of her son’s sense of service and encouraged him to go.

But now, she’s fighting a battle against the military to get him mental health care through the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs.

War’s nightmare

McLain enlisted at a time when many men were being drafted, and also a time when many American men avoided the call.

Not McLain.

The U.S. Army sent him to Germany, but that wasn’t where he wanted to be. He wanted to go to the action —  to Vietnam. The Army granted his wish, making him a helicopter door gunner. He covered troops as they dropped into or pulled out of action zones. McLain returned fire at whoever shot at his aircraft. Sometimes he didn’t know whom he killed, whether they were soldiers or civilians. They were nameless, faceless, and McLain agonizes, blameless.

“You don’t always see what you are hitting,” he said. “I guess that is the bigger part of my nightmare.”

The thought of killing people trying to survive, not fight, in a war-torn country wore him down. The soldier’s environment was chaotic and substance abuse was rampant.

“I decided to be as crazy as the place and time,” he said. “I had to make that decision to keep doing it.”

It was a mindset he couldn’t wash off, even after leaving the war zone.

“When you come back, it’s still there.”

A different reality

The contemplative McLain is soft-spoken and kind, but the war and its aftermath still show in his pained eyes. The anguish has persisted since he left Vietnam in late 1971.

McLain returned to Ft. Hood, Texas, to await release from service. Without combat missions, McLain was left to think and dream. He couldn’t cope with the nightmares and constant thoughts of what he had done as a soldier.

He ran from the Army.

McLain was gone from January 1972 until August 1972, when he turned himself in. Facing a decision between court-martial and a quick, but “under conditions other than honorable” discharge, McLain opted to be released.

He has since been diagnosed with combat-related post-traumatic stress disorder. McLain and his mother maintain he went AWOL because of the service-related mental illness, yet the less-than-honorable brand that resulted has prevented him from getting treatment through Veterans Affairs.

 In 1977, according to a U.S. Army letter, the military upgraded his discharge to “general under honorable conditions,” but it hasn’t made a difference. He has been repeatedly denied benefits. Earlier this year, the VA sent him another letter: “Your claim was denied on September 18, 2008, as your discharge has previously been determined to be a bar to benefits.”

Challenging the law

Psychiatrist Dr. Rick Staggenborg, who specializes in treatment of PTSD for the VA and Coos County Mental Health, has made it his mission to help McLain. He’s got an idea for a bill to change Public Law 95-126 that governs who the VA  can treat.

The current law denies benefits to anyone who was AWOL for more than 180 days. Staggenborg believes, as military service was the source of their illness, vets like McLain deserve to be treated. PL 95-126 has an exception for those who can prove they were insane when they committed offenses. Coos County’s Veterans Service Director Mary Ann Sackett said McLain could appeal but only with proof or statements from fellow servicemen. Thirty-seven years later, McLain sees the application and appeal process as a way to discourage vets from seeking service and Staggenborg wants to eliminate the restriction altogether.

The current law has countless victims, Staggenborg said, and until it changes, they will continue to add up.

“I’m certain a large number of them are dead and more will die if nothing is done,” Staggenborg said.

With care, there’s hope

Without treatment, PTSD victims tend to be poor parents and spouses, and they seek relief with drugs and alcohol.

Typically, combat-related PTSD victims are constantly on high alert and may startle easily. They often re-experience traumatic events stemming from seemingly innocuous triggers and tend to avoid close relationships with people.

“They feel changed, and they have changed,” Staggenborg explained.

They also carry the weight of guilt.

“Killing a lot is hard to live with,” Staggenborg said.

Meister says she not only wants to help her son, but others who are in a similar situations.

“I’m sure there are people who have stopped trying,” she said. “Those are the people who are living in camps, the homeless people.” 

McLain said he is doing better than the vets who have given up. He lives with his mother and is getting some treatment through the county. But neither McLain or Staggenborg think the cash-poor mental health agency is equipped to deal with his type of PTSD.

He says he wants to be a productive citizen, to have a job, perhaps go back to school and find a way to help others, but he can’t do it alone. He needs comprehensive treatment and believes the VA should provide it.

“I just want to be stable and have a happy life,” he said. “A boring, simple life.”