thedrifter
03-21-05, 10:32 AM
Recruiter-turned-peacenik hits nerve in N.C.
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Top Stories - USATODAY.com
By Rick Hampson, USA TODAY
March 21, 2005
If you were young and tough and wanted a challenge, Jimmy Massey was the man to see. He was gung ho. He was Semper Fi. He was the strutting, cussing, tobacco-chewing Marine recruiter.
The staff sergeant won scores of recruits in this and other patriotic mountain towns by talking courage, honor, commitment. Then, following his own adage - "you gotta walk the walk" - he went to Iraq (news - web sites).
That was two years ago, before Massey left the Marines, returned to Waynesville, and began saying things about the war that make people wonder whether they really knew him in the first place. These days Massey carries a sign around town that says he killed Iraqi civilians. He confesses to having enticed some recruits with false promises, and encouraged others to lie on applications. He has gone to Canada to testify for an Army deserter seeking asylum, and he has spoken at peace rallies.
He left a Marine recruiter and returned a peacenik.
This is the story of a veteran and the town to which he returned - a town that no longer recognizes the man who once preached the leatherneck gospel and now has a whole different sermon.
Carolyn Burkes, whose son served in Iraq, wants to kick his butt for recruiting him. Louise Goss, whose son will soon return to Iraq, wants to run him over for turning on the troops. Cpl. Lincoln Walburn, a reservist who could go to Iraq any time, wants to deck him. "I looked up to the staff sergeant," says Walburn, whom Massey recruited, "but he is dishonoring himself and the Marine Corps."
Others want to shake Massey's hand. "It's unthinkably courageous to admit you're wrong and turn your life around," says Daniel Miller, whose Marine son was recruited by Massey. "Most people would slink away. He's trying to make amends."
More than anything, people are puzzled by Massey's transformation.
But they don't know the whole story: that for two years before he went to Iraq, Massey apparently suffered from depression, which he blamed on the stress of recruiting, and that before rejoining his unit, he stopped taking his medication.
Does knowing the whole story make a difference? Did depression color what Massey saw in Iraq, or did what he saw there make him depressed? Soldiers talk about the "fog of war." Sometimes things aren't any clearer on the home front.
When Massey came here as the recruiter in 1999 after eight years in the Corps, he seemed to embody its mystique, down to his tattoos. Kids dropped by the recruiting station just to hang out. "Sgt. Massey was someone I could talk to," Walburn says. But there was a side people didn't see, according to a military medical report furnished by Massey. It was written after he returned from Iraq.
When he was a recruiter, Massey felt stressed by pressure to fill his quota and by guilt over the half-truths he told to fill it. He developed shingles and high blood pressure. In May 2001, halfway through his three-year tour, he was diagnosed with depression.
But in April 2003, according to the medical report, Massey asked "to taper off his psychiatric medications. In anticipation of finishing recruiting duty, he expected that things would just magically improve. He reports that he would tell himself that everything would be great as soon as he was off recruiting and in a normal unit again."
That fall, Massey says, he stopped taking antidepressants and prepared to rejoin his infantry weapons unit. Walburn heard worry in Massey's voice, "but he kept up a good front. If you're a staff sergeant, you don't want to look weak."
A year later, Massey was back. He had left the Marines, gotten engaged to a local woman and was selling furniture. No one knew what happened in Iraq. When Mark Phillips, whom Massey recruited into the Marine Forces Reserve, ran into him on the street, "He just told me he had some issues and he had to get out."
Then, in February 2004, the local newspaper published a story about Massey.
Massey told The Mountaineer that he and his platoon were staffing a roadblock near Baghdad when a car inexplicably failed to slow as it approached, despite the Marines' warnings. The Marines opened fire, killing three occupants. Only the driver survived.
Massey said that these and other civilian deaths depressed him, and that finally he told his superiors he thought that the Geneva Conventions were being violated.
He was sent back to the USA, where a military doctor diagnosed him with major depression and post-traumatic stress disorder. He was honorably discharged with an 80% disability.
Massey's friends were shocked by his charges about civilian deaths. Walburn says he asked himself, "That's the hard ass that recruited me?"
Louise Goss, whose son was recruited by Massey, wrote a letter to the newspaper accusing him of turning his back on his recruits: "This is war, Mr. Massey. ... Innocent people die in war, always have and always will."
The Marines say Massey's charges about civilian killings have been "found to be unsubstantiated," according to a Corps spokesman, Maj. Doug Powell. He declined to discuss in detail the incidents Massey described, but said, "You have to consider the rules of engagement and the current threat," which demanded heightened suspicion of civilians and civilian vehicles.
Many Massey recruits feel his description of what he saw in Iraq doesn't support his conclusions. Soldiers, they argue, are obligated to fire on a vehicle that fails to stop at a war zone checkpoint. "In that situation, it's either kill or be killed," Walburn says. Phillips agrees: "He was doing his job, whether he knows it or not."
Massey has his defenders. As a recruiter, "He was straight with me," Marine Sgt. Noah Miller says. "Some recruiters offer you the sky because if they told you the real deal, they wouldn't get nearly the number of people they get. ... That was not the case with Jimmy Massey."
For others, Massey's claims raise difficult issues. Louise Owens sent a copy of her letter in The Mountaineer to her son Cody, who spent six months in Iraq last year. His reaction surprised her: "He said, Mom, I'm not saying he's right or wrong, but some of the things that happen in Iraq, the U.S. people don't know about. ... I don't like to hear anyone putting Massey down who's not been over there and done that.' "
At 33, Massey is not what you might expect in a former Marine sergeant. He seems introspective. He says he is in therapy, and takes six different prescription medicines for maladies ranging from depression to high blood pressure. He lives on disability pay.
Most local veterans regard Massey as "an outcast," according to Roy Pressley, an officer at the American Legion post here. He keeps to himself, and left his sales job because of tension over his comments on the war. He says that once, when he was out walking with his protest sign, a man driving a car swerved at him.
Why the one-man picket line? Isn't he afraid of looking like a nut?
"It's leadership by example. That's what the Marines teaches," he replies. "How can I ask another Marine to protest the war if I haven't done it myself?
"That lifestyle never leaves you," he adds. "Honor, courage, commitment - that still works well for me. I still eat and sleep the Marines. I'm still a Marine."
He pulls up his right sleeve to reveal, on his right arm, a big purple tattoo: the Marines' eagle, globe and anchor insignia.
When Lincoln Walburn is told of his old recruiter's battle with depression, he's not sympathetic. He says Massey should never have tried to go to war.
But he understands why Massey had wanted to get back to his combat unit after his stint as a recruiter: "That's the Marine mentality," he says. "He was a staff sergeant in the United States Marine Corps. If that doesn't say something about who you are, I don't know what does."
The Drifter's Wife
Ellie
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Top Stories - USATODAY.com
By Rick Hampson, USA TODAY
March 21, 2005
If you were young and tough and wanted a challenge, Jimmy Massey was the man to see. He was gung ho. He was Semper Fi. He was the strutting, cussing, tobacco-chewing Marine recruiter.
The staff sergeant won scores of recruits in this and other patriotic mountain towns by talking courage, honor, commitment. Then, following his own adage - "you gotta walk the walk" - he went to Iraq (news - web sites).
That was two years ago, before Massey left the Marines, returned to Waynesville, and began saying things about the war that make people wonder whether they really knew him in the first place. These days Massey carries a sign around town that says he killed Iraqi civilians. He confesses to having enticed some recruits with false promises, and encouraged others to lie on applications. He has gone to Canada to testify for an Army deserter seeking asylum, and he has spoken at peace rallies.
He left a Marine recruiter and returned a peacenik.
This is the story of a veteran and the town to which he returned - a town that no longer recognizes the man who once preached the leatherneck gospel and now has a whole different sermon.
Carolyn Burkes, whose son served in Iraq, wants to kick his butt for recruiting him. Louise Goss, whose son will soon return to Iraq, wants to run him over for turning on the troops. Cpl. Lincoln Walburn, a reservist who could go to Iraq any time, wants to deck him. "I looked up to the staff sergeant," says Walburn, whom Massey recruited, "but he is dishonoring himself and the Marine Corps."
Others want to shake Massey's hand. "It's unthinkably courageous to admit you're wrong and turn your life around," says Daniel Miller, whose Marine son was recruited by Massey. "Most people would slink away. He's trying to make amends."
More than anything, people are puzzled by Massey's transformation.
But they don't know the whole story: that for two years before he went to Iraq, Massey apparently suffered from depression, which he blamed on the stress of recruiting, and that before rejoining his unit, he stopped taking his medication.
Does knowing the whole story make a difference? Did depression color what Massey saw in Iraq, or did what he saw there make him depressed? Soldiers talk about the "fog of war." Sometimes things aren't any clearer on the home front.
When Massey came here as the recruiter in 1999 after eight years in the Corps, he seemed to embody its mystique, down to his tattoos. Kids dropped by the recruiting station just to hang out. "Sgt. Massey was someone I could talk to," Walburn says. But there was a side people didn't see, according to a military medical report furnished by Massey. It was written after he returned from Iraq.
When he was a recruiter, Massey felt stressed by pressure to fill his quota and by guilt over the half-truths he told to fill it. He developed shingles and high blood pressure. In May 2001, halfway through his three-year tour, he was diagnosed with depression.
But in April 2003, according to the medical report, Massey asked "to taper off his psychiatric medications. In anticipation of finishing recruiting duty, he expected that things would just magically improve. He reports that he would tell himself that everything would be great as soon as he was off recruiting and in a normal unit again."
That fall, Massey says, he stopped taking antidepressants and prepared to rejoin his infantry weapons unit. Walburn heard worry in Massey's voice, "but he kept up a good front. If you're a staff sergeant, you don't want to look weak."
A year later, Massey was back. He had left the Marines, gotten engaged to a local woman and was selling furniture. No one knew what happened in Iraq. When Mark Phillips, whom Massey recruited into the Marine Forces Reserve, ran into him on the street, "He just told me he had some issues and he had to get out."
Then, in February 2004, the local newspaper published a story about Massey.
Massey told The Mountaineer that he and his platoon were staffing a roadblock near Baghdad when a car inexplicably failed to slow as it approached, despite the Marines' warnings. The Marines opened fire, killing three occupants. Only the driver survived.
Massey said that these and other civilian deaths depressed him, and that finally he told his superiors he thought that the Geneva Conventions were being violated.
He was sent back to the USA, where a military doctor diagnosed him with major depression and post-traumatic stress disorder. He was honorably discharged with an 80% disability.
Massey's friends were shocked by his charges about civilian deaths. Walburn says he asked himself, "That's the hard ass that recruited me?"
Louise Goss, whose son was recruited by Massey, wrote a letter to the newspaper accusing him of turning his back on his recruits: "This is war, Mr. Massey. ... Innocent people die in war, always have and always will."
The Marines say Massey's charges about civilian killings have been "found to be unsubstantiated," according to a Corps spokesman, Maj. Doug Powell. He declined to discuss in detail the incidents Massey described, but said, "You have to consider the rules of engagement and the current threat," which demanded heightened suspicion of civilians and civilian vehicles.
Many Massey recruits feel his description of what he saw in Iraq doesn't support his conclusions. Soldiers, they argue, are obligated to fire on a vehicle that fails to stop at a war zone checkpoint. "In that situation, it's either kill or be killed," Walburn says. Phillips agrees: "He was doing his job, whether he knows it or not."
Massey has his defenders. As a recruiter, "He was straight with me," Marine Sgt. Noah Miller says. "Some recruiters offer you the sky because if they told you the real deal, they wouldn't get nearly the number of people they get. ... That was not the case with Jimmy Massey."
For others, Massey's claims raise difficult issues. Louise Owens sent a copy of her letter in The Mountaineer to her son Cody, who spent six months in Iraq last year. His reaction surprised her: "He said, Mom, I'm not saying he's right or wrong, but some of the things that happen in Iraq, the U.S. people don't know about. ... I don't like to hear anyone putting Massey down who's not been over there and done that.' "
At 33, Massey is not what you might expect in a former Marine sergeant. He seems introspective. He says he is in therapy, and takes six different prescription medicines for maladies ranging from depression to high blood pressure. He lives on disability pay.
Most local veterans regard Massey as "an outcast," according to Roy Pressley, an officer at the American Legion post here. He keeps to himself, and left his sales job because of tension over his comments on the war. He says that once, when he was out walking with his protest sign, a man driving a car swerved at him.
Why the one-man picket line? Isn't he afraid of looking like a nut?
"It's leadership by example. That's what the Marines teaches," he replies. "How can I ask another Marine to protest the war if I haven't done it myself?
"That lifestyle never leaves you," he adds. "Honor, courage, commitment - that still works well for me. I still eat and sleep the Marines. I'm still a Marine."
He pulls up his right sleeve to reveal, on his right arm, a big purple tattoo: the Marines' eagle, globe and anchor insignia.
When Lincoln Walburn is told of his old recruiter's battle with depression, he's not sympathetic. He says Massey should never have tried to go to war.
But he understands why Massey had wanted to get back to his combat unit after his stint as a recruiter: "That's the Marine mentality," he says. "He was a staff sergeant in the United States Marine Corps. If that doesn't say something about who you are, I don't know what does."
The Drifter's Wife
Ellie