Loyalty draws a sergeant back to war

Chad Stephens still has nightmares and avoids crowds, but he'll be joining his men

N.C. National Guard Sgt. 1st Class Chad Stephens returns Monday to his comfort zone.

After a farewell ceremony in Williamston, Stephens and his platoon leave for intensive training. Then they will join thousands of soldiers from the N.C. National Guard's 30th Heavy Combat Brigade for a second deployment to Iraq.

Next spring, four years after leaving the Middle East, Stephens will return to war.

"I got a long road back to Iraq, a long road," Stephens said. "I'm a soldier. I can take anything they throw at me. I just got to get in the mindset, and I'm good."

Stephens says the National Guard has worked hard to address the mental health problems that trouble him and thousands of other returning soldiers.

But in the civilian world, life isn't so easy. Nightmares still plague him. He jolts awake in his bedroom in rural Ahoskie and can't fall back asleep. He retreats to a converted barn behind his home.

Seems like he never gets enough rest.

"I still don't go in stores," he said recently. "I still don't go in crowds. I avoid people. I still bypass Ahoskie; I take the back roads. I sit in that barn, drink cold beer and watch TV."

The News & Observer profiled Stephens, 41, a year ago in a series called "The Promise." The series followed Stephens, a platoon sergeant who risked his life to save a soldier and later suffered from a mental anguish he couldn't understand, seeking help from an Army ill-equipped to give it.

Trauma in Iraq

Stephens had been awarded the Silver Star, the Army's third-highest medal for heroism, after pulling his gunner out of the hulking Bradley vehicle in the midst of a firefight in Baqubah on June 24, 2004.

The gunner, Spc. Daniel A. Desens Jr., died. He was 20.

Months earlier, back in North Carolina, Stephens had promised his soldiers' families that he would bring everyone home. That was nearly five years ago.

Stephens, with more than two decades of military service, could have retired this past year. His wife wanted him to. But Stephens felt responsible for his men.

If I don't lead them, he asked, who will?

After returning from Iraq, Stephens suffered nightmares, spent nights drinking in the barn and listened to the fears of younger soldiers who, like Stephens, couldn't shake the imagery of that battle in Baqubah.

His cell phone rang constantly. Sometimes the caller was Patricia Desens, the mother of the young gunner, who wanted to hear stories about her son's work in Iraq and the last moments of his life.

Stephens finally reached out to a civilian psychiatrist and was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. The National Institute of Mental Health has said that more than 40 percent of returning National Guard troops require mental health treatment but that less than 10 percent receive care.

Retirement? Tempting

The N&O stories ended with Stephens uncertain about his future: Should he stay in the military, protecting his men? Or should he retire and stay home with his wife and son?

"Well, I thought about it," Stephens said recently in an interview.

He sat down at his computer one night last spring and looked up motorcycle repair schools in Pennsylvania and Florida. He sent for details, and the schools returned packets of information.

He dreamed of opening his own motorcycle shop in Ahoskie.

Meanwhile, some of Stephens' men from the first tour in Iraq got out of the military.

One moved to Pennsylvania. Another became a cop. Another got a medical leave. Some are getting help.

Others stayed. New soldiers enlisted -- young men carrying the same bluster of youth that Desens had before going into war.