This is not a political piece.
Tags: Mental Health, Military, True Story, Psychology, Psychotherapy

I spent seven years working as a licensed psychotherapist/civilian contractor for the military at the behest of the Department of Defense.

My local professional association had a speakers bureau and we got together once per month for burritos and discussion about who would present what topic and where. One of our members asked the group. “Who wants to make $$$ in a month living in Germany?”

Seven business cards slid across the table. Over the next few months we were all flown over to work. The program, in it’s infancy, was to the best of my knowledge, born based on these events:

Some time in 2004, a plane full of military personnel were stopping over in Kuwait after a one year deployment in Iraq. They were based in Baumholder, Germany, home of the largest OCONUS (outside continental United States) installation in the world with some 15,000 residents including active duty military, families, children and civilian contractors.

During their stop-over, while most of the passengers were chatting on cell phones advising loved ones at Baumholder that they would be home soon, a Sergeant Major came onto the plane and said. “Get your shit together, we are going back to Iraq.” (add more expletives as you see fit)

This, then, was the birth of extended deployments.

Mayhem ensued.

Spouses and families became increasing dysfunctional. Problems abounded. Acting out behaviors were rampant. This of course is the normal reaction to such devastating news as, ‘no, we’re not coming home quite yet.’

You must understand, the mindsets of deployed military and spouses are so different, we worked at re-integration weekends sponsored by the chaplains to try to get couples connected again. Imagine: the spouse at home, anticipating the end of the deployment, is thrilled that they no longer need to shoulder the household burden by themselves. Help with children, chores, home upkeep will now be shared by the returning spouse. The returning spouse on the other hand notes, “I just want a toilet with a door. “

So after the debacle on the plane and the reaction of family at Baumholder, the DoD requested adjunct mental health support via an insurance carve-out. In May of 2004, Team One sent four consultants (licensed therapists) to Baumholder to lend a hand, identify the dysfunction and provide support.

My telephonic interview was five minutes long, they confirmed my licensure and provided one admonishment: Since military do not have permission to have political opinions, similarly, we as consultants were to leave our opinions back in the US. This neutrality served us well.

I was on Team Six in December of 2004.

The program had increased to 22 consultants, now being stationed in one month intervals around various bases in Germany.

We had flyers printed to market our program. In the early days, marketing was a very large portion of the work we did. As most are well aware, there is a massive stigma to mental health support in the military. Anyone on a career path, desiring promotion (rank and salary) had better not demonstrate any need for support, as it was considered weakness, unreliability, and they are considered not promotion material.

Two things we stressed: We do not document any encounters other than how many per day. We do not report to superior officers. We maintain full confidentiality.

And we didn’t.

Most didn’t believe us at first, but slowly over the years, the program took hold. From a pilot to an installed program, all branches of the military, all over the world.

Flexibility was stressed. We sometimes got on a plane to Germany, expecting a particular duty station, and upon landing, learned we were assigned elsewhere. We improvised. If you have never provided a support group in a tank, well…

We mopped floors, set up chairs, made coffee, really, just whatever was necessary to make the connection. All part of the service. ‘No’ was not part of our vocabulary. We saw the need and wanted to help.

Technically, although we were all licensed, we were not to provide therapy. Should we identify a person with a diagnosable disorder (depression, anxiety etc.) we were instructed to refer them on and sometimes we did. Our focus was to work with the interpersonal, with relationships. It’s a fine line and we nuanced it the best we could. Needless to say, some meetings were intense as we met with those that suffered as a result of being in combat situation. We dealt with them to the best of our ability. We all did. The dedication of the consultants is something rarely experienced in my lifetime.

After an assignment, back home, I was asked to speak a little about the program in front of my meditation class by the teacher. I sat in front of the class, at the feet of the teacher, and looked out at a room that I surmised to be all liberal, mostly progressives and wondered how to get my point across when in my mind, I feared that the mere mention of the word ‘military’ would deafen the ears of most in the room.

I described the work we did, how important it was for us, how grateful we were for the opportunity to serve that particular population. I was suddenly struck with an insight and I found myself choking up, sobbing in front of the group. I sputtered, noting that for most of those we worked with, joining the military was the most informed solution they had for themselves given where they came from. They were doing the best they could. They were not the enemy.

Today, in 2021, literally thousands of therapists travel to installations to provide very welcomed support to everyone that comes across their path.

To be a part of the birthing of this program, was nothing short of an honor. I am extremely grateful to have been invited and participated and as I said,

This is not a political piece.