Veterans Court: 'It’s Not a Free Ride'

For veterans who find themselves embattled in the Washington County criminal justice system, help has arrived.

Washington County Attorney Pete Orput, a Vietnam combat veteran, that is designed to address the underlying psychological issues that have led an increasing number of combat veterans into run-ins with the law.

“We don’t leave any troops on the battlefield," said John Baker, a 22-year Marine Corps veteran and White Bear Lake defense attorney. "We take care of ourselves, and that’s what this program does.”

For the cases that fit the bill for Veterans Court will be heard on the first Friday morning of the month in in Stillwater.

Before the hearing, members of the county attorney’s office, the defense, Veterans Affairs and community corrections will meet to discuss the case.

“We will do it on our own time,” Orput said. “On our Friday calendars. We don’t need a special set-aside Veterans Court. None of us have the money for it. But we’ve got the time. We’ve got the commitment. And we’ve got the collaboration. And that’s all it’s taken.”

Several years ago when Orput was working at the Hennepin County Attorney’s Office, he and his colleagues started seeing young veterans coming into the criminal justice system.

“We’re used to seeing people who chose to deal in criminal activity, but these people are different,” Orput said. “They had an outstanding record in the military. Why are they here now?”

Through research, it was determined than a large number of the combat veterans suffered from post traumatic stress disorder, brain injuries and stress, Orput said. It was pretty clear that those issues were driving them into the criminal justice system.

A Lesson Learned

For the last decade the United States has been a nation at war.

“As we’re winding down the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, preparing for the aftermath here at home, we have to look back at the past conflicts like Vietnam and learn from the mistakes that were made,” Defense Attorney Brock Hunter said during the unveiling of Washington County’s Veterans Court.

About 60,000 soldiers died on the battlefields in Vietnam, Hunter said. More than 100,000 took their own lives after the fact.

“The government’s own statistics confirm more than 1 million soldiers suffered long-term psychiatric injuries and half of those veterans seen by the VA system had contact with criminal justice system. Hundreds of thousands of Vietnam-era veterans remain incarcerated, homeless and chronically addicted 40 years after the war.”

But there is more knowledge about conflict trauma today, Hunter said.

“We’re seeing clear evidence of the effects on warriors emotionally, psychologically and physically," he said.

Looking at the current conflicts, there are a lot of additional issues to deal with, such as fighting with a small force and recycling soldiers back to the battlefield again and again and again, Hunter said.

Then there’s the .

“Unlike other conflicts many veterans have served two or three tours and others that have served four, five, six, seven and even eight,” he said. “When they start coming home in large numbers, be prepared.”

One of those veterans is and another is .

Both men returned home from service, were diagnosed with mental illness as a result of exposure to what they saw in combat and found themselves on the wrong side of the law.

These two men show why Veterans Court is so important, Orput said.

Logistics

The first logistical obstacle for the Veterans Court is identifying combat veterans.

What was learned years ago, Orput said, is that combat veterans who get involved in the criminal justice system—because they’re trained so well—are a “really tough nut to crack.”

“We’ve made them into supermen so they’re not ones to come in and say, ‘Hey, I’ve got a malady,’” Orput said. “They don’t. They’ll go through the whole jail and criminal justice system and not say boo.”

That’s in part because they think if the VA finds out, they will lose their benefits—and “that’s nonsense,” Orput said.

Combat veterans are also not good at admitting they have a weakness or a problem, and that’s where screenings come in to play.

The first questions asked when a person arrives at jail are where do you live, how old are you and are you a veteran, Orput said. But if they lie to the jailer, that’s where the public defender comes in and screens them.

After learning if the person is a combat veteran suffering from, or able to be diagnosed with, PTSD or other combat-related maladies, the veteran will go to the arraignment.

At the arraignment, a request will be made for the next hearing to take place before a Veterans Court judge to explore his eligibility for the diversion program.

“If they have the diagnosis, they’re almost home,” Orput said. “They get the lawyer, admit what they did was wrong and make amends.”

Then they have to decide if they want to go through “Door A” or “Door B.”

“Door B is where you go to jail and play Monopoly, smoke and joke and get out and do it again and again and again,” Orput said. “Door A is the harder one that takes a lot more courage because now you have to face the demons—and that’s a long-term deal.

“It’s not a free ride,” he continued. “There’re lots of people who would rather do 60 days in jail than what we’re asking them to do. It’s a hard, painful program starting with chemical dependency and then getting into the real deep stuff—because it never goes away, you just learn to manage it.

“But if they clean themselves back up, get in the saddle, work with a mentor and get a job to raise their kids, then we’re square. We’re even. I think that’s the moral thing to do. A little redemption, if you will, because I think we all deserve some.”

A ‘Typical Case’ for Veterans Court

But the line has to be drawn somewhere.

A veteran can’t kill someone, say they have PTSD and walk, Orput said.

“You can’t do a serious prison offense and expect to get a walk," he said. "That would be unfair. That would be a two-tiered system.”

A typical case for the Veterans Court would be a veteran who comes home, can’t find a job, starts self medicating, drinking and playing violent video games because that’s the only thing that distracts them, Orput said. Sooner or later his wife comes down and says when are you going to quit drinking and find a job.

“Now he’s in jail on a domestic,” Orput said. “The question quickly becomes, do you want me to put the boots to him or do you want me to try to do something that will get him back—and with his family—but it’s a lot of hard work."

The way the state sentencing guidelines are set up, anyone who would be presumptively going to be sent to prison under the guidelines would not qualify for this program, Washington County Judge Greg Galler said. Exceptions can be made, but it’s designed for folks who would presumptively not be sent to prison.

Galler, who will be one of two judges of the Veterans Court, said he thinks this is a great program.

When looking at the things these people have given so we can have a court system, freedom and all the things we enjoy, there has to be a willingness to do something to help get them back into the society they protected, Galler said. That’s really what this is.

“It’s looking at a situation where there is a guy or gal who was willing to risk everything for us and now they have defects because of the problems they had,” he said. “They come back with PTSD, alcoholism or whatever it is and we’re saying we’ve got to help these folks and get them back to where they are supposed to be.

“It’s not a free pass. They have to take responsibility for what got them into my courtroom, but I’m going to get them out of my courtroom and turn them into productive members of society, rather than shoving them down some rabbit hole and saying we don’t care about you anymore.”