William DiMascio, a Vietnam
veteran and an attorney, is a man on a mission. He has a thing
about fairness, which he thinks some of his fellow veterans
have been denied. Big time.
Take, for instance, Commer Glass, an ex-infantryman with the
1st Cav who saw some of the bloodiest early battles in the Ia
Drang Valley. One night in 1975, Glass took his stabbed and
bleeding girlfriend to the emergency room of a hospital near
where he lived in Pennsylvania. Try as they did, doctors
couldn't save her. Glass said he wasn't sure, but he may have
been the one who killed her. He couldn't remember what had
happened other than blacking out - when she was still very
much alive and well. When he came to, he said, she lay there,
mortally wounded.
At his trial the following
year, the jury concluded that Glass indeed was the one who
killed her and convicted him of first degree murder.
Almost 30 years later, Glass
still maintains he has no recollection of that fateful
evening. Not that it really matters: Even DiMascio believes
Glass "probably" did it. Still, DiMascio thinks Glass did not
receive completely fair consideration at his trial. Glass, he
argues, came back from Vietnam with "a certifiable case of
Post-traumatic Stress Disorder,"which, he acknowledges, in no
way excuses or exonerates Glass from his act. But DiMascio
claims it does call into question whether the given sentence -
life - accurately and justly reflects the degree of conscious
responsibility Glass bears.
In the American Psychiatric
Association's Diagnostic and Statistical Manual, which the
U.S. judicial system relies on when defendants claim some form
of diminished psychological capacity as a mitigating factor, PTSD is recognized as a seriously debilitating mental
condition and therefore merits consideration of lesser
culpability. However, the APA did not recognize PTSD before
1980, the year the disorder first appeared in the manual. In
other words, if a veteran suffered from PTSD and was tried for
a violent act before 1980, a plea based on PTSD carried no
significance or authority within the American judicial system.
The attorney who represented
Glass during his 1976 trial never raised PTSD or any form of
diminished capacity in the veteran's defense. In all
likelihood, the attorney knew little or nothing about PTSD, at
the time, almost no one knew anything about it. But since
1980, Vietnam veterans who suffer from the disorder and have
committed capital crimes have had the opportunity to present
PTSD - supported by a growing body of scientific knowledge -
as a mitigating factor. As a result, many veterans have
received reduced sentences combined with court-ordered
treatment or counseling.
DiMascio would like Commer
Glass and some ninety other veteran-inmates in Pennsylvania
serving life sentences meted out before 1980 to receive the
same opportunity. In short, reopen their cases so that a court
can hear and weigh whether PTSD was a contributing factor in
the crime. If the court still decides to convict and apply the
same sentence, then at least the veteran will have received
the same consideration that veterans tried after 1980 have
received. No one, he says, would be getting a "free ride" out
of jail.
With ten or so others, DiMascio
co-founded the Pennsylvania Equity Project, which is dedicated
to helping the state's veterans serving life sentences imposed
before 1980. "We chose that name because this is all about an
issue of fairness and equity in the eyes of the law," he said.
DiMascio feels his cause has
even greater urgency because Pennsylvania state laws dictate a
life sentence is for natural life, with no chance of parole.
Only a handful of states proscribe parole, a fact that, he
says, creates further inequity. "You go from state to state
and the laws vary. Look at Texas, which executes people at the
drop of a hat." But Texas, which offers parole eligibility on
life sentences, "also has an average length of confinement on
a life sentence of only between five and six years."
DiMascio cites U.S. Bureau of
Justice statistics showing that the national average for time
served on a life sentence for homicide is 16 years. Anyone
convicted for homicide in Pennsylvania in 1972 or earlier
already has served at least twice the national average. "It's
fair to conclude that in most other states an individual
convicted in, say, 1975 who had some kind of psychological
impairment would have been eligible for parole at some point,"
he said. "It is apparent to anyone who looks into it that the
punishment being administered is not being applied
evenhandedly."
In general, convicted killers
are not the public menaces most people think they are,
DiMascio says. "I've gotten to know quite a few inmates, and
despite the popular perception of Charles Manson out
butchering people, most homicides are crimes of passion
occurring between family members or acquaintances, or fights
that get out of hand. For many of the people convicted, this
is the one seriously bad thing they've done in their lives. My
point is that the people convicted of this crime are your best
bet for rehabilitating. They don't recidivate. You have more
chance of recidivism with burglars and petty thieves. There's
a lot of misperception about who these folks are."
In particular, he feels Vietnam
veterans serving pre-1980 life sentences in Pennsylvania are
even less likely to fit either the perceived or actual profile
of convicted killers. "These guys did go serve their country.
They were good people who were basically law abiding and who
felt a sense of duty when they were called," DiMascio said.
"They honored their commitment. They may have [later] gotten
their wires twisted and gotten involved in something they
shouldn't have that had God-awful consequences, but the point
is that at some point we as a society should be giving them a
break after 25-30 years. They've been punished, and they're
not getting a free ride by any means."
Research suggests that
something other than usual factors has driven as many as an
estimated 25 percent of Vietnam combat veterans to commit
violent crimes. A 1981 report showed that heavy combat
veterans were three times more likely to be arrested than
veterans who experienced little or no combat. An article in a
1987 issue of the Bulletin of the American Academy of
Psychiatry Law reported that:
"Generally, Vietnam veterans in
prison have experienced less prior socioeconomic deprivation,
a commonly mentioned element in the development of criminal
conduct, than have non-veterans. Based on a 1979 study of
California inmates, veterans were more likely to be married
and less likely to be in a minority group or use drugs than
non-veterans. A Bureau of Justice survey of all state
prisoners disclosed that imprisoned veterans were better
educated than were their non-veteran counterparts. Veterans
are also less likely to have a prior history of juvenile or
adult incarceration than were non-veterans, and approximately
70 percent had honorable discharges from the military.
Estimates of all incarcerated veterans have ranged from 45,000
to 125,000 at a given time. Varied estimates of their numbers
have only fueled debate as to whether veterans' experiences in
the Vietnam War are responsible for subsequent criminal
behavior.''
In some cases, the war was
clearly responsible, according to Steve Mason, former chair of
VVA's PTSD Committee. Mason was involved with one such case in
1980 in San Diego. A former infantryman in Vietnam - "a tough
and crazy guy wanted by police for a misdemeanor charge,'' as
Mason recalls - came home late one night. As he shut off the
engine and headlight on his motorcycle, the ensuing pitch
darkness was suddenly flooded with two flashlight beams that
hit him directly. In the near-blinding light the ex-soldier
could see a gun reflected in a hand as a voice told him not to
move.
Two policemen had come to
arrest him on an outstanding warrant. But because of the
flashlight beams, he couldn't see anything but the gun's
reflection. "The infantryman carried a buck knife," Mason
says, "and he immediately, without hesitation, cut the arm
that was holding the gun, and then got shot in the leg. Now
the warrant was for assault on a police officer."
Mason says the veteran had
simply responded to a threatening situation precisely as he'd
been trained to respond.
"When caught in ambush, all
infantrymen in the kill zone know they have a four-second
drill in which they must aggressively attack that which is
putting them in ambush," he says. "If they do not, they will
die in the kill zone. This four-second zone is taught and
taught and taught, and so this was not a rational or
volitional act on the soldier's part, but rather the result of
his conditioned response. And just because he was out of the
Army, [that response] did not attenuate as rapidly as society
would like it. Had the police officers approached him during
daylight, this would not have happened."
Mason was part of a group of
veterans who, on behalf of the former infantryman, found a
psychiatrist who would testify to this effect, which
essentially constituted a PTSD-based defense. The
Diagnostic and Statistical Manual had begun listing PTSD as a
recognized disorder that year, noting in particular that PTSD
sufferers could experience symptoms when environmental or
emotional situations approximated the original traumatic event
or events, regardless of how long ago those events occurred.
Moreover, according to the March 1984 edition of the Boston
College Law Review, "the DSM specifically mentions
unpredictable explosions of aggressive behavior' as
characteristic of war veterans with PTSD."
Yet as the Bulletin of the
American Academy of Psychiatry Law also noted, not every
combat veteran who has committed a crime suffers from PTSD,
and not every combat veteran suffering from PTSD has committed
a crime. The mere presence of PTSD as a factor in a capital
crime, therefore, does not automatically justify dismissing or
even reducing the charges against a defendant. In court, it is
often more effective and substantial to demonstrate direct
links or parallels between an accused veteran's provable
combat experiences and the specifics of the crimes for which
he's being tried.
But it's not easy.
"Establishing a valid link
between PTSD and criminal behavior is an imposing task," the
Bulletin reported. "At least two levels of causation
have to be investigated: (1) causal connection between the
traumatic stressor and psychiatric symptoms; and (2) causal
connection between psychiatric symptoms and the criminal act."
Put another way, PTSD by itself
isn't a get-out-of-jail pass. But the judicial system has
worried that abuse of PTSD as a defense could lead to
precisely that. From the Boston College Law Review: "[T]he
fear is often expressed that the use of PTSD in the courtroom
will give Vietnam veterans a blank check' to commit crimes or
other antisocial acts. Even health care professionals who are
supportive of veterans' issues are concerned that PTSD may be
misused by overzealous attorneys who attempt to stretch the
diagnosis beyond scientifically justifiable limits. The task
facing attorneys and mental health professionals is to develop
an understanding of PTSD that allows its application to legal
issues when appropriate, while avoiding potential abuses." The
article cites as an example a 1983 case in New Mexico
involving a veteran who allegedly had said he was going to
kill someone and then blame it on his Vietnam War service.
DiMascio - who served with the
1st Cav from 1968-69, in Quang Tri and in Tay Ninh -insists he
is not simply trying to free convicted killers because they
are Vietnam veterans. What he wants, he says, is for the state
to establish a commission to review cases of any of the
90-plus veterans serving pre-1980 life sentences who request a
review. "The burden would be on the individual to prove he had
some kind of PTSD affecting him," DiMascio says. "This
commission would review the case with an eye toward
determining whether, if this case were being tried today, it
would result in something less than a life sentence. Then the
commission would be able to recommend to the pardons board
that it reconsider parole for these cases for these reasons."
As most everyone who has
experienced significant trauma knows, PTSD is real. But in the
1970s very few people knew much of anything about it, and
veterans afflicted by it received little or no understanding
from courts. "[P]rior to 1980," the Boston College Law
Review article stated, "mental health professionals and
attorneys lacked an identifiable and accepted description of
the symptoms now known as PTSD that could be employed in
diagnosis, treatment, or legal proceedings. In cases involving
veterans, the lack of a recognized definition of these
symptoms diminished the validity of the theory that reactions
to combat could influence behavior long after the war. Thus,
the very real problems experienced by Vietnam veterans were
often misdiagnosed, unrecognized, and untreated for almost a
decade after the end of the Vietnam War. PTSD is far from
being a fictional malady invented to get Vietnam veterans off
the hook.' "
"Several years ago I was on a
bus with a friend who's also a Vietnam veteran," said Tom
Berger, who's on the faculty of the University of Missouri's
College of Human Environmental Sciences and also chairs VVA's
PTSD Committee. "It was a very humid, hot day, with light
rain. I don't remember where we'd been, but there was a group
of Asian folks that either got on the bus or the driver
stopped and talked to them. Suddenly my friend just flew right
back, as if he were [in Vietnam] again. That kind of thing,
re-experiencing, can go on for years if there's no
intervention."
Most veterans with PTSD
received no intervention until the 1980s and '90s - and some
still haven't. Meanwhile, the symptoms assume a variety of
shapes and forms. Feelings of isolation, alienation, mistrust
or betrayal; depression and suicidal thoughts or tendencies;
avoidance behavior; chronic anger and irritability; a deep and
powerful sense of guilt or self-blame; substance abuse. This
is just a partial list of symptoms that form invisible
tripwires, which, in a particular set of circumstances, can
detonate violent acts. "Say a combat veteran suffering from
PTSD has feelings of betrayal and mistrust along with anger,
and he gets into an argument with a loved one," Berger said.
"Someone ends up hurt.
"How long those kinds of
disturbances last or even how long it is before they begin,"
he said, "there's as much variability there as there are many
different veterans we have. That's still part of the unknown
about it."
DiMascio doesn't know how many
of the veteran-inmates serving pre-1980 life sentences in
Pennsylvania prisons have demonstrable cases of PTSD. Overall
estimates for total in-country veterans suffering PTSD are
between 1 million and 1.5 million; between 1 million and 1.6
million either fought in combat, provided close support, or
were at least fairly regularly exposed to enemy attack.
Extrapolating those numbers to Pennsylvania prisons means that
the majority, if not all, of the ninety have likely suffered -
and might still be suffering - from PTSD.
Despite DiMascio's best
efforts, success has been slow in coming. "The [Pennsylvania]
legislature adopted a joint resolution last year to look into
PTSD, and mental health problems and problems of ill and aging
inmates in the system," he said. "The chairman of the House
Judiciary Committee told me that this was a mental health
issue, and he'd see that it's dealt with appropriately." As to
when it will be dealt with, no one can say.