Sgt. James Alford: They Finally Did the Right Thing
Sgt. James Alford: They Finally
Did the Right Thing
DefenseWatch
This
article is provided courtesy of DefenseWatch,
the official magazine for Soldiers For The
Truth (SFTT), a grass-roots educational organization
started by a small group of concerned veterans
and citizens to inform the public, the Congress,
and the media on the decline in readiness
of our armed forces. Inspired by the outspoken
idealism of retired Colonel
David Hackworth, SFTT aims to give our
service people, veterans, and retirees a clear
voice with the media, Congress, the public
and their services.
In the early 1970s, I was the Assistant Weapons Officer on a Fleet
Ballistic Missile Submarine. I had come up through the ranks, so I
had a bit more experience than the average lieutenant junior grade,
and this may be what made the difference. My first class sonar technician
was a top-rated petty officer headed for chief, and bigger and better
things. He was popular with both the officers and crew.
During the latter part of a two-month patrol, this petty officer began
to sleep late and behave erratically on and off watch. He seemed to
be bothered by something pretty major. I counseled him, and we kept
an eye on him. When we returned to port, his behavior worsened, and
counseling was not working.
When my boss wanted to write him up for Captain's Mast, I went to
the corpsman and asked him to set up an appointment with the physician
on the submarine tender alongside. He did. Immediately following the
examination by the physician and his interview of me and several of
our shipmates, the petty officer was med-evaced to the United States
where he was diagnosed with a brain tumor.
Following surgery, this fine petty officer continued his career, and
eventually retired as a proud master chief petty officer, having even
served a stint as Chief of the Boat, the senior enlisted position
on a U.S. Submarine.
Unfortunately, it doesn't always work out this way.
Staff Sgt. James Alford received a Bronze Star for heroism in Afghanistan
as a member of the 5th
Special Forces Group. Apparently while he was in-country, he contracted
either a form of Mad Cow Disease, or else a rare form of Creutzfeldt-Jakob
disease, which is a fatal brain disease similar to Mad Cow. Symptoms
began to manifest themselves after his January arrival in Kuwait in
preparation for the attack on Iraq.
Apparently Alford knew something was wrong, and he masked his symptoms,
concealing from his superiors that something seemed to be happening
with him.
At first, it was simply forgetfulness, and Staff Sgt. Alford was counseled
and told to carry around a notepad to keep track of orders and assigned
tasks - a not unusual way many military people keep track of things.
But it didn't stop there. By March, Alford was seriously neglecting
the very things that had made him a hero only months before. He was
cited for dereliction of duty, larceny and lying to superiors. And
to add insult to injury, he lost his gas mask.
When Alford went back to Kuwait for more serious counseling, the Army
physician who examined him concluded that he was faking it. That apparently
was the straw that broke the camel's back.
Finally in April, Lt. Col. Christopher Conner
of the 2nd Battalion, 5th Special Forces Group Headquarters in Kuwait,
ordered Alford back to Fort Campbell to be court-martialed with the
words: "Your conduct is inconsistent with the integrity and professionalism
required by a Special Forces soldier."
Alford was busted to Sergeant, but - fortunately - before the Army
could give him some kind of less-than-honorable discharge, doctors
finally discovered that was really wrong with him. The Army cannot
take credit for this, however. Alford's parents were alerted to an
apparent problem by a neighbor, and they drove the 600- mile distance
to discover their once heroic son in what appeared to be the final
stages of dementia. They rushed him to the emergency room, and then
through several doctors, where the correct diagnosis finally was made.
At first there was a certain amount of foot-shuffling and finger-pointing,
especially by the Special Forces Group's command staff. Then Bill
O'Reilly presented the case to the nation on his Fox News Channel
program, "The O'Reilly Factor." Things happened quickly after that.
On Monday evening, Dec. 8, Alford's father, retired Army Command Sgt.
Maj. John Alford, reported to O'Reilly that Monday afternoon, his
family was visited by eight senior Special Forces members, who apologized.
Alford has had his full rank restored, with all back pay, all medical
benefits, and all of the honor due a true American hero.
I suspect there was a significant amount of pressure from above, but
I am certain that the men who visited the retired command sergeant
major and his wife were there because they wanted to be there. When
it is all said and done, the Army Special Forces takes care of their
own. This was a case of terrible medical misdiagnosis, and a significant
example of the poorest judgment. But in the end, it has worked out
as it should.
Staff Sgt. Alford has his honor reinstated, and even if these unfortunate
events had not happened, he still would be oblivious to them, because
he will die soon, a victim of a rare, always fatal, incurable disorder
that may or may not have been caused by something he ingested in Afghanistan.
It wasn't his fault, nor the Special Forces', nor the Army's.
Civilian specialists have even come to the defense of the Army doctors
who missed the original diagnosis. According to these experts, diagnosis
of Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease usually takes eight or more months -
just like it did here. The staff sergeant got a tough break, but his
superiors made up for it, and the command sergeant major himself is
satisfied that they finally did the right thing.
This
article is provided courtesy of DefenseWatch,
the official magazine for Soldiers For The
Truth (SFTT), a grass-roots educational organization
started by a small group of concerned veterans
and citizens to inform the public, the Congress,
and the media on the decline in readiness
of our armed forces. Inspired by the outspoken
idealism of retired 
