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Female veterans seeking to heal lives shattered

JOINING the Navy to get an education seemed like a good idea to Tiffany Turner back in 2000, when the United States was enjoying undisturbed peace and prosperity.

Heather Loomis, 25, and a former Marine, holding picture of her father, says "everyone just looks at you kind of differently." (Jessica Griffin / Daily News)
Heather Loomis, 25, and a former Marine, holding picture of her father, says "everyone just looks at you kind of differently." (Jessica Griffin / Daily News)Read more

JOINING the Navy to get an education seemed like a good idea to Tiffany Turner back in 2000, when the United States was enjoying undisturbed peace and prosperity.

Just three years later, the young Bronx native found herself on board the USS Roosevelt, sailing from one dangerous port to another while the military fought wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

When both conflicts spiraled out of control, Turner listened as her fellow sailors worried about the possibility of their Navy destroyer being attacked, sending each of them to a watery grave.

Today, Turner is one of the 2,217 veterans of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars designated by the Department of Veterans Affairs as "homeless or at risk" in the last 3 1/2 years. They face issues ranging from substance abuse to physical disability to post-traumatic stress disorder.

Some experts believe that the number will skyrocket as more vets return and struggle to get back on track. And women, who are serving in the armed forces now more than ever, constitute 11 percent of the ranks of homeless and struggling vets, the VA says.

'I hit rock-bottom'

By 2004, Tiffany Turner had had enough.

She was honorably discharged, but she was racked with stress from her time in the Navy and worried about a younger sister who was serving in Iraq. Like many who have served in the military, she returned home only to realize that her time in the service had changed her, and it seemed that no one around her could empathize with her.

"I couldn't take it anymore," said Turner, 28. "I was worrying all the time. Then, in 2006, I had a stroke, and I guess I just hit rock- bottom from there."

If female vets are lucky, they'll find hope and salvation at the Mary E. Walker House, as Turner did.

The Walker House is a 30-bed transitional-housing center that offers homeless female vets shelter, counseling and other life services for up to two years.

The program, on the picturesque grounds of the Coatesville VA Medical Center, is run by the nonprofit Philadelphia Veterans Multi-Service & Education Center (PVMSEC).

A 95-bed program for male vets, called LZ II, is also on the Coatesville campus.

"When we look at the homeless vets of today, it's important to understand where they're coming from," said Marsha Four, a Vietnam War vet who directs both housing programs.

"If you haven't been in war, you have no idea what it's like to get up every day and decide that maybe the biggest job you'll have today is just staying alive. The emotional toll is long-lasting."

Four said that many homeless female vets hit a wall when they return home and try to balance their war experiences with the pressure of raising their families and returning to work.

"My friends just treated me like a trophy, like, 'Oh, don't mess with her, she's a Marine,' " said former Marine Heather Loomis, another Walker House resident.

"Everyone just looks at you kind of differently."

Bottoming out sooner

There was a time, about a generation ago, when the prevailing wisdom was that it took about 10 to 15 years for veterans to end up on the streets because of substance-abuse or mental-health issues.

But Iraq and Afghanistan vets are bottoming out at a much quicker rate, said Ed Lowry, PVMSEC founder.

"We haven't seen big numbers - yet. But more and more vets are coming back with disabilities, post-traumatic stress disorder [PTSD] or other trauma, and some of them just get overwhelmed and lost in the system."

Despair can set in quickly, as evidenced by the 1,866 Iraq and Afghanistan vets who called in to a nationwide VA suicide line from Jan. 1 to July 31.

Among female vets, 158 were involved in what the VA terms "suicide-behavior events" - either committing suicide or thinking about it.

"We're seeing some very young men and women . . . and some of their troubles are great," said Peter H. Dougherty, the VA's director of homeless programs.

Dougherty said that the average age of Iraq and Afghanistan vets who need homeless services is 25, compared with 19 at the height of the Vietnam War. Only 6 percent of the vets seen by the VA are married.

"Obviously, there's been a significant increase in the women we see, because their role has expanded so dramatically," he said, noting that 15 percent of all active-duty forces in Iraq are women.

"For a lot of them, the struggle is about that readjustment period, and seeing if their combat-related stress is going to turn into a serious health problem," he said.

Lonely feeling

Serving in the military - and transitioning back to civilian life - proved to be anything but easy, several Walker House residents told the Daily News.

Loomis, 25, said that women still face unique pressures in the military.

"It can be intimidating serving with so many men, and many of them want to put you in one of three categories: A bitch, a slut or a dyke," said Loomis, who was retired by the Marines because of a heart condition.

Loomis said that she and other female troops worked through the sexist attitudes and came to embrace the efficiency and order of military life.

Leaving it behind was more difficult than they expected.

"You get so used to the regimen and strict standards that it's hard to deal with civilian life, which has none of the regimen," said Denise Coleman, 51, whose 16-year military career ended after she served in the Gulf War as a platoon sergeant.

Coleman, who suffers from PTSD, said that she and other female vets found civilian life "to be a very lonely feeling. You're disconnected and lost in some regards, because so few people even know or think of women in the military."

That's especially true for women who bring home war-zone experiences. Coleman recalled being stranded alone in the desert with another female soldier for five days just after the ground war ended in 1991.

"No one else can know what your experiences are like," she said.

Loomis and Coleman said that they think that the disparity between female soldiers and people at home who can understand them will only get worse as more vets return from Iraq and Afghanistan.

"What they're seeing over there with roadside bombs and intense combat is on a whole other level," Coleman said. "You don't just shake those kinds of experiences off."

Some will get overwhelmed, Loomis said, and will end up on a well-worn path of confusion, isolation and substance abuse before hitting bottom.

Safe at last

"Once you walk through the doors of the Walker House, you know you're going to be OK," Loomis said.

"It's comforting to be surrounded by other women who know what we need."

The Walker House is part of an expansive, handsome brick building rented out by the VA

It was named for Dr. Mary E. Walker, a Civil War veteran who remains the only woman to be awarded the Medal of Honor.

Rolling green hills, towering trees and winding pathways provide residents with a peaceful backdrop as they contemplate their future.

Its mission, according to its Web site, is "to offer a safe environment where women veterans can stay, living in harmony with others, while they endeavor to attain personal growth and enhance life skills, in order to re-establish themselves as members of a community and regain ownership of their lives."

Psychologists are on hand for group or individual therapy sessions designed to help the women focus on building healthy relationships and adjust to civilian life.

Some women take advantage of special programs that let vets finish their degrees and line up jobs.

Turner said that the Walker House programs helped rehabilitate her from many of the effects of her stroke and taught her to focus on simple goals, like building a savings account and finding a place to live. "I've learned to start taking care of myself," she said.

"They've had a lot of problems heaped on top of them," said Four, who directs the program. "We just try to make them whole again."