Demons follow soldier home
http://www.zwire.com/site/news.cfm?newsid=15471660&BRD=1284&PAG=461&dept_id=179799&rfi=6
On July 14 after months of nightmares and little sleep,
Iraqi War veteran Jason Cooper walked down the steps of
his father's basement in Des Moines and hung himself.
It ended the struggle with his own inner demons, but left
his family stunned and bitter.
Terri Jones of Chariton belongs to an exclusive group -
with participants who wish they didn't qualify for membership.
Compassionate Friends is based in Albia with several members
from the Centerville area. It is a support group for parents
who have lost children.
Jones describes her son as a young man who enjoyed life;
an enthusiast of rollerhockey, speed skating, martial arts
and motorcycles. She said it was this love of physical
challenges that inadvertently led to his death -
a victim of war just as much as if he had died in the
midst of battle.
"If I could sue the government, I would," said Jones.
"He upheld his end of the contract, they failed to uphold
their end of the contract."
Jones would like to know how many other soldiers have been
failed, but there is no way of knowing. The Pentagon is not
keeping count of suicides among troops who kill themselves
after they leave Iraq.
Looking for jobs at a Des Moines mall, Cooper and a best
friend found themselves talking to an Army Reserve recruiter.
The recruiting office posters would have appealed to Cooper,
the images of smiling, robust young men and women looking
as if they were on their way to sporting games instead of
battle.
"He joined because of the physical challenge," said Jones.
"He had the attitude that if anyone else can do it, I can."
Jones said the recruiter asked him if he had broken any bones.
Cooper told his mother he had explained about an injury that
had shattered his jaw, resulting in months of elaborate wiring
to meld the broken pieces.
The recruiter again asked if he'd ever broken any bones and
again her son began describing the injury, Jones said.
Then, according to Cooper, the recruiter pointedly said that
he was only going to ask one more time - did he ever break a bone?
Finally taking the hint, Cooper said no.
A couple months later in January of 2002, he found himself in
basic training at Fort Knox. The invasion of Iraq began
half way through his training.
Jones said her son excelled at Fort Knox, even helping train
other recruits because of his martial arts background.
Assigned to the 389th Engineering Company in Iowa City,
too late to have traveled with his home unit to Iraq,
Cooper was then attached to the 308th Quartermaster Company
in Mt. Pleasant. Deployment orders sent him to Fort Riley
for training until they left for Iraq in February of 2004.
Once there, Cooper found he was not going to be carrying out
the duties he'd been trained for - refueling and water
purification. Instead he'd be driving in convoys along
what is called the most dangerous stretch of highway in
the world - the road leading from central Baghdad to the
country's main airport.
Jones said that his unit was stationed at a small base,
Log Base Seitz, outside the Baghdad airport. It was nicknamed
"Mortaritaville" because of the heavy amount of shelling the
camp took from insurgents.
As of June, there were 90 separate attacks on the small
logistical base in the past year. Six soldiers were killed,
four from mortar rounds, and more than 60 wounded.
It was also close to the infamous Abu Ghraib Prison and
received even more shelling when the torture of Iraqi prisoners
became public.
"Five hundred thousand ***** Iraqians lived right
across the street,"she observed.
At the same base was the 1st Cavalry, and the two units
worked so closely together that Cooper received a
1st Cavalry patch.<BR> Because it was so dangerous
for the convoy drivers at the small base, Cooper
informed his mother that they were told they could move
to a larger and safer base. The commander refused and
was later awarded a Bronze Star - something Jones bitterly
noted the regular soldiers taking the brunt of attacks
never received.
Emails from Cooper continued to get worse, constant stories
of attacks on the base and the convoys.
In June of 2004, his convoy was ambushed. Later, Jones was
Instant Messengering with Cooper and she asked if he was
alright. "Not really," he typed back. Shelled on the way
to their destination, they had to return the same way to
home base under fire. At one point, Cooper and other
soldiers were ordered to search the weeds along the road
in the dark for insurgents.<BR> " I thought I was going
to have a heart attack last night when we were stoped on
the road.. my heart was about to explode, from over
beating... ," he wrote.<BR> Cooper returned home for
two weeks in July. It wasn't the young exuberant son who
came home.
"It was like a movie was running in his head all the time,"
said Jones. "We'd have to say, 'Cooper, hello,' and snap our
fingers to get his attention."
Just once did he relate one specific fire fight to his family.
Jones thinks he never spoke of it again because her son was
sure he had killed Iraqis. The convoy took above fire from a
bridge. Jumping behind a .50-caliber heavy machine gun mounted
on the back of his vehicle, he shredded the bridge with
the gun's intense firepower of more than 500 rounds per
minute.
He also related being on a "warlock mission," riding the
point truck that had equipment designed to jam
radio-detonated roadside bombs. His lead vehicle
passed unscathed, but the soldiers just behind him
weren't as lucky when they took a direct hit from a
dump ruck loaded with dynamite. Jones believes this
was the incident where a best friend was killed and
Cooper expressed guilt that he hadn't been able to
protect him.
In one mortar attack, he escaped unharmed, though his
vest took shrapnel.<BR> The deaths and injuries of his
war buddies, close calls and guilt were taking their
toll on Cooper. In one call home, Cooper told his
mother he knew he wasn't going to make it back alive.
A tearful Jones replied that if she could, she'd fly a
plane over that very instance and bring him home.
But he did come home March 6 of this year and though
he didn't show any visible injuries, Jones said Cooper
was suffering from "emotional cancer." The movie was
again running in his head, of wounded Iraqi children
vainly begging for medical help at the gate and
dead bodies - both of friends and enemies.
His girlfriend told of numerous nights when he would twist
and turn from nightmares - when he did manage to sleep.
It was difficult for him to concentrate and carry on
conversations. He would jump at loud sounds.
In April he was with sister Jena when she gave birth
to his nephew, Jacari. He became distraught holding
Jena's trembling hand as she went into labor He had
held too many quaking hands in Iraq, Cooper explained,
referring to his wounded "battle buddies." He became
distraught holding Jena's trembling hand as she went
into labor He had held too many quaking hands in Iraq,
Cooper explained, referring to his wounded "battle buddies."
At first, he was inseparable from his little brother, Mick.
"They were together day in and day out, 24/7," said Jones.
But beginning two weeks before July 14, Cooper stopped
his visiting. "I think he had made up his mind then what
he was going to do."
"At one point he said he wished he'd never come. We thought
he meant staying in Iraq, but I now think he meant he wished
he had died over there," related Jones. ""He couldn't
understand why the guy next to him should die, but he lived."
The nightmares were getting worse and he'd suffer from
flashbacks. They tried contacting the chaplain he'd gone
to while in Iraq, but he'd been reassigned to another state.
Seeing a chaplain wasn't seen as a sign of weakness,
Jones said, which was why many soldiers would not see
psychiatrists.
And not once during his time back from Iraq did the Army
ever check how he was doing, Jones angrily said, though
one in five soldiers returning from Iraq have been found
to suffer from past traumatic stress.
Cooper was preparing to rollerblade the evening of July 14.
He had skate bearings soaking in the sink. But at a
little after 5 p.m., his girlfriend got a call saying he
couldn't take it anymore, that he loved her and goodbye.
She rushed through the 5 p.m. traffic to find all the doors
locked. Breaking in through the basement, she found him hanging.
A quickly grabbed pair of scissors was used to cut him down
and 9-11 called, but it was too late.
"He was running that movie in his head since he got home
and got to the point where he couldn't live it again," said
Cooper's mother..
Jones recalled how she was bounced around different military
offices to find outhow to arrange his funeral service.
"I had to call 5,000 different departments on my own.
When I told them my son had just died last night,
they'd say 'sorry for your loss' and 'just to let you know,
you aren't the only one.' I'd ask how many and they'd say
they weren't keeping track. How convenient."
Cooper's death came as a shock to the whole family.
They had never realized the "Iraq Cancer" had consumed
that much of the brother and son they knew. That is one
of the reasons, Jones said, she is coming out with her
son's story. She wants other families of returning soldiers
to look for the warning signs of post traumatic stress
and take them serious - seeking help as soon as possible.
Jones is now involved in her own battle - against George Bush
and the Iraqi War, which she said is a farce based on lies.
She is a member of several anti-war groups including
Military Families Speak Out and Gold Star Families for Peace.
She emails Cindy Sheehan, who lost a son in Iraq and gained
national headlines for her protest outside Bush's Texas ranch.
"We have just reached the 2000 mark of soldiers killed in
combat and many more families will suffer the wrath of
this war after their soldiers come home," she concluded.
" We need to bring them home now and take care of them
when we get them here. George Bush should be held responsible
for his blatant lies and the destruction he has caused
within Military families and innocent Iraqi people.
As far as the military recruiting process, I understand
that we need an Army, but if you are going to join,
take a hard look at yourself and ask, can I kill for oil?"
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