Student veterans turn to campus groups for help adjusting to college

By Dominick DiFurio



Training, reflexes and anger flowed into Devon Caballero-Zarate the day he had an altercation with his ex-wife’s boyfriend, using his tattoo-smothered forearms to twist the man’s wrist, intent on breaking it.

Fellow veteran Jordan Sherwood (right) talks with Mesa Community College student Devon Caballero-Zarate (left) about switching into a more suitable class.

Fellow veteran Jordan Sherwood (right) talks with Mesa Community College student Devon Caballero-Zarate (left) about switching into a more suitable class.

“I just reacted,” Zarate recalled, saying he also smashed the boyfriend’s head into a car windshield before the Las Vegas Police Department showed up.

Zarate was a special purpose mechanic stationed in Kadena, Japan, from 2001 until 2003 when he was discharged. His post-service disabilities stem from non-combat related incidents, particularly the murder of his father while Zarate was serving overseas.

“I snapped… plain and simple, I snapped.”

His father’s death sent Zarate into a psychological state that his superiors thought gave enough reason to send him back home permanently, Zarate said.

He now studies at Mesa Community College, hungry to have his hands on a four-year degree in the near future.

“Being a soldier, the military, that was my world… that meant everything to me,” Zarate said.

Many student veterans, like Zarate, say their military experiences leave them feeling differently than other college students, and so they turn to organizations like the Student Veterans of America to help them.

SVA is a national organization with 883 chapters across the United States. These chapters assist veterans in their transition into the college environment, some of whom suffer from post-traumatic stress and are juggling school with demanding lives. They have families and some have jobs.

Jordan Sherwood, a former member of the SVA chapter at Mesa Community College, says there’s more to life for student veterans than “going to class for the day and then going home, calling up your buddies and partying… I mean there’s always that too,” he joked.

Veterans groups on campus are a place for these students to connect with other veterans.

The Veterans Club at Arizona State University, where Zarate attended school prior to MCC, provides opportunities for members to come together through community service, social events, one-on-one guidance, and political activism.

At an October ASU Tempe Veterans Club meeting, members congregated in the evening over a couple boxes of Papa John’s pizza. Its president, Walter Tillman, runs through his agenda in front of a dozen veterans, discussing political issues, community service and social events.

As a veteran, Tillman is active in Arizona politics and encourages members of the club to reach out to elected officials and voice their opinions about student veteran issues. Recently he worked with Congresswoman Kyrsten Sinema, a Democrat from Arizona, to push several bills that would further veterans benefits.

“It’s kind of in our best interest,” Tillman elaborated.

Joanna Sweatt is the Military Advocate at Arizona State University and is skeptical of mixing politics and veteran support. Sweatt is a U.S. Marine Corps veteran and works one-on-one with veterans that need assistance at school or who simply need some company.

“Politics are stressful, no matter how much passion you have for them,” she said.

Sweatt says that she sees more successful veterans emerge from support groups that focus on service and support.

MCC also has a significant veteran population. The MCC chapter president Brian Dozier says he prefers to focus on brotherhood.

Zarate, for example, missed three days of school after his altercation in Las Vegas. He had trouble communicating his situation to teachers and was able to go to Sherwood for help. Sherwood also happens to be an employee at the Office of Veteran Services at MCC. He took Zarate under his wing, helping him communicate to teachers his struggles. He also assisted in getting Zarate into more suitable classes.

“I’ve been there,” Sherwood said of Zarate’s situation.

Sherwood also served in the military and got himself through a two-year degree. He’s now working on a Bachelor’s degree. He says he understands the complicated scenarios of fellow veterans, adding that student veterans join the club to find help with exactly these scenarios.

“We’re all fighting the battle to assimilate back into civilian life,” MCC veterans club member Ted Morrison added.

Families struggle to cope with multiple deployments

By Sebastian Zotoff

Army Staff Sergeant Kelli Kerber first deployed to Iraq in 2007, leaving behind her three children, their goodbyes said at their grandmother’s house in Slidell, Louisiana.

Kerber’s two youngest children were too young to realize what it meant for their mother to be deployed. Gabrielle, her oldest child, in some context, did understand.

“She thought that I had chosen to leave them, she wouldn’t speak to me, she was very sullen, and just angry,” Kerber said.

Today, with the faint memory of those days, Gabrielle, now 15, says, “I just didn’t realize why she had the go.”

Army Staff Sergeant Kelli Kerber, her husband, Army Staff Sergeant Christopher Kerber and her three children (from left to right) Gabrielle, Layla and Troy celebrate their mother and stepfather's return from Iraq.

Army Staff Sergeant Kelli Kerber, her husband, Army Staff Sergeant Christopher Kerber and her three children (from left to right) Gabrielle, Layla and Troy celebrate their mother and stepfather’s return from Iraq.

Kerber, 36, is one of more than 280,000 female veterans who have since returned home from the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, about 12 percent of whom were single mothers while serving in the military.

For Kerber, that meant leaving her children with their grandmother so she could serve as an X-Ray technician in the MEDCOM unit in Baghdad.

“The third day I was there was the first time we had traumatic amputations” she said vividly recounting what she saw.  When the medical evacuation call came through, Kerber started to prepare herself, adding, “The mental part is what kills you.”

In one particular incident in February 2007, Kerber described an explosion in which  “a female suicide bomber had gone to a playground where kids were playing soccer and detonated herself – so our hospital was full of kids.”

The children, “with this tremendous look of confusion,” were about the same age as her own, she said.

In late 2012, Kerber was deployed a second time – to the American Embassy in Baghdad. “The second time it wasn’t nearly as bad as when I deployed the first time” Kerber said.

It’s been four months since she returned from her second tour in Iraq and for the first time, she and her children are living far from a military base in a Surprise, Ariz. suburban home. Her children Gabby, Layla and Troy are now 15, 13 and 11 years old.

Kerber originally joined the Army reserves to pay for a college education but transferred to active-duty following Hurricane Katrina. “The day it [Hurricane Katrina} hit, August 29th, 2005 was Gabrielle’s birthday,” Kerber said.

After five days of living with friends in Georgia, Kerber and her three children returned home to find a tree torn out of the ground and laying through the walls of her home.

“What wasn’t damaged by water, was damaged by mildew and mold and it just had horrible stench – so it wasn’t livable at that point. I know they were going to repair it but I had these three little kids looking at me with five days worth of clothes – and that was all that we had,” she said.

“We lost everything [in Katrina], “ she said with her southern twang. Her mother’s house was flooded and their house destroyed.

The only option the Army reserve soldier and single mother saw as a solution was to enlist in active-duty, even with a high likelihood of deployment.

Kerber already was separated from the children’s father, but both were deployed to Iraq.

“You know, you have expectations of what home is going to be like when you return, but that’s where you fail,” she says.

When Kerber first came home, she described how detached she felt from her children: “I remember going to the grocery store and thinking; I don’t even know these kids. I knew them as babies.”

According to experts and doctors, the longer the parent is apart from their child, the more problems the child is likely to experience. In a study conducted by the National Institute of Health, three-fourths of veteran families have reported problems in the home – such as children acting afraid of their parents or having difficulty expressing affection.

Kerber calls her kids strong and resilient for going through what they went through, “Things that would be a catastrophe to most kids – [Kerber’s children] think whatever.”

Kerber is now married to another veteran of the Iraq war, Staff Sgt. Chris Kerber, an Army recruiter.

She says she has worked through the stresses and images of a war hospital, where she helped save Iraqi children and fellow soldiers’ lives. Kerber now is attending Arizona State University, working toward another college degree.

But she can still rattle off the name of the first American soldier she saw die in the hospital.

“His name was James Ellis, he was 24-years-old and he was from Valdosta, Georgia,” she said.

She also saw a fellow service woman die, a nurse who worked with her in the hospital. The woman was crossing the street to go to the gym when a barrage of rockets struck the area around the hospital. Soon to be married, she died in the trauma room.

“My heart just sank,” Kerber said.

Army chaplain helps military families affected by suicide

By Erin Kennedy

In the midst of sleep during a 2012 deployment to Kuwait, Army Chaplain (Capt.) Doug Windley was awoken by a call from the Red Cross informing him that the brother of one of his soldiers had been murdered back home.

Army Chaplain (Capt.) Doug Windley, shown here in Kandahar, served with the North Carolina National Guard in Kuwait, Afghanistan and Qatar.

Army Chaplain (Capt.) Doug Windley, shown here in Kandahar, served with the North Carolina National Guard in Kuwait, Afghanistan and Qatar.

Windley, of the North Carolina National Guard, left his tent at 3:00 a.m. to wake the soldier, one of many times in the chaplain’s career that he was called upon to deliver grim news.

“I’ve never found a phrase or words that have the power to take away someone’s pain,” Windley said. “Just being present with them and not leaving them alone is the best thing to do.”

Windley’s experiences as a military chaplain in North Carolina and on deployment in Kuwait, Afghanistan and Qatar have brought him to his work as a staff associate of the Survivor Care Team at Tragedy Assistance Program for Survivors (TAPS).

TAPS, based out of Arlington, Va., is a 24/7 program that helps people who have experienced the death of a loved one in the military, regardless of their relationship to the individual who passed away.

As a chaplain on deployment, Windley served as a pastor for soldiers overseas. He performed religious services for soldiers who followed Christianity, as he did, and provided a place of worship for soldiers of other religions as well. Since returning to North Carolina at the end of 2012, Windley continues his work by marrying soldiers, being there for the birth of a soldier’s child, attending soldiers’ funerals, and helping soldiers adjust to life at home after returning from deployment.

“There are three phrases I always keep in the back of my mind as a chaplain: nurture the living, care for the wounded and honor the dead,” Windley said.

At TAPS, Windley provides support and care to those left behind after a suicide by helping them through their grieving.

Since 2010, suicide has been the second-leading cause of death for service members, with war injuries at number one, the Armed Forces Health Surveillance Center (AFHSC) found.

According to data collected over eight months by Arizona State University’s News21, veterans are killing themselves at more than double the rate of the civilian population with about 49,000 taking their own lives between 2005 and 2011.

Records from 48 states show the annual suicide rate among veterans is about 30 for every 100,000 of the population, compared to a civilian rate of about 14 per 100,000. The suicide rate among veterans increased an average 2.6 percent a year from 2005 to 2011, or more than double that of the 1.1 percent civilian rate, according to News21’s analysis.

Like TAPS, Cheryle Phelan, suicide prevention coordinator at the Department of Veterans Affairs in Prescott, Ariz., helps connect survivors with other survivors. When a veteran suicide occurs in the region of northern Arizona, Phelan calls the family to give them contact information for survivors in regional suicide groups.

“It’s different when someone dies from cancer or a different disease,” Phelan said. “When someone dies of suicide, family and friends are always thinking ‘What should I have done?’ ”

By connecting a newer survivor with someone such as an older veteran spouse affected by a military suicide in the past, the newer survivor learns how to cope better and is assured they can make it through the death, Phelan says.

“With suicide, it’s important that the survivors are around people that can really empathize with them,” Phelan said.

Windley refers to the process of new people and organizations offering support to survivors as the “address book changing.”

“Suicide is an enigma to many people,” Windley said. “I want to run to them to help in the moment; I want to run toward the fire.”

Combat correspondent uses her experiences in school

By Anthony Cave, News21

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Post-9/11 veteran Jennifer Brofer films a news story at the Marine Corps Logistics Base in Albany, Georgia in 2007. (Courtesy of Jennifer Brofer)

Jennifer Brofer served in the Marines, on the frontlines in Afghanistan, but she wielded a camera instead of a rifle.

Brofer, 30, a combat correspondent for more than 10 years, served in Afghanistan during 2010-11. She worked across media, using the printed word as well as video. When logistic Marines built bridges, she was there. Redeploy missions? She was there too.

“It was inherently dangerous,” Brofer, an Arlington, Texas, native, said.

Since her discharge in 2012, Brofer has used the Montgomery GI Bill to study radio-television-film at the University of Texas at Austin.

Other than a few canceled appointments for non-emergency care at the Department of Veterans Affairs outpatient clinic in Austin, her experiences have been positive, she said.

“I’m a happy gal, mentally unscathed,” Brofer said.

Still, her experience led her down the military path once again in a class she took last semester. Brofer completed a nine-minute video titled “Girls With Guns,” which chronicles the experiences of post-9/11 veteran Mary Hegar, whose helicopter was shot down in Afghanistan in 2009.

She survived and returned fire, but Hegar came home to fight again, this time the military’s ban on women in combat. She sued the U.S. Department of Defense and the Combat Exclusion Policy was eventually lifted in January 2013.

Brofer said her experiences overseas helped her share Hegar’s narrative.

“I learned how to tell a story in very adverse conditions,” she said. “I don’t take for granted what the reporters do here in America. If it wasn’t for the skill, I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

The video also highlights teenage girls in a high school Junior ROTC program. Brofer said that it is important to advocate gender equality.

Brofer wants to be a producer or director; she already has a resume start. When Christina Aguilera sang the National Anthem before the 2011 Super Bowl, the NFL Network showed a montage. Her three-second shot of a group of Marines standing in a tent made the worldwide broadcast.

Brofer, who was posted in Afghanistan at the time, had spent the night before the Super Bowl, editing film for the spot. She said that “luckily” she was behind the camera.

Marine rapper and photographer reflects on service

Anthony Cave, News21

Marine Sergeant Raymond Lott rapped about war when his camera lens wasn’t focused on battlefields.

Lott is a Marine photographer who was deployed in Iraq in 2006 and Afghanistan in 2008. He is now finishing his service in New Orleans.

The 30-year-old California native often reflects on his time overseas. But he unleashes the day’s “stresses” in a studio, rapping about his experiences.

In “Here Now,” Lott raps that he joined the military because he realized that “a little boy needed change in his life.”

When he wasn’t rapping, Lott was photographing – Iraqi women, firefights, Marines bandaging civilians and carrying out military duties. But Lott’s raps soothed him.

Marine photographer Raymond Lott received a 2007 Thomas Jefferson media award for this picture of an Iraqi woman. The awards are presented by the Department of Defense. (Courtesy of Raymond Lott)

Marine photographer Raymond Lott received a 2007 Thomas Jefferson media award for this picture of an Iraqi woman. The awards are presented by the Department of Defense. (Courtesy of Raymond Lott)

“It’s reflective therapy. You need to get out these emotions in any form; I use therapy through music,” said the man whose rap name is RSonic.

Lott has uploaded more than 50 videos on YouTube. He has more than 2,400 subscribers and his most popular video has almost half a million YouTube views.

“I’m helping people,” he said of his raps. “It helps them see the world in a different way.”

His photography also offers a worldview. Lott won a Thomas Jefferson media award presented by the Department of Defense in 2007 for his photo of an Iraqi woman.

Documentary workshop helps service members reintegrate

By Rachel Leingang, News21

Members of the North Dakota National Guard's 818th Engineer Company watch "Brothers at War," a documentary made by Jake Rademacher, who imbedded with his brothers in Iraq to try to understand them better. (Photo by Peter Haden, News21)

Members of the North Dakota National Guard’s 818th Engineer Company watch “Brothers at War,” a documentary made by Jake Rademacher, who imbedded with his brothers in Iraq to try to understand them better. (Photo by Peter Haden, News21)

Jake Rademacher was trying to understand what his brothers were experiencing. Rademacher’s two brothers served in the Army and shared a bond that as a civilian, he didn’t understand. So the filmmaker and actor decided to visit his brothers – in Iraq – while they were deployed and film a documentary.

“Brothers at War,” is now used as a workshop for returning National Guard and Reserve troops at Yellow Ribbon Reintegration Program events across the country. Service members watch the film with family, then write journal entries and discuss the feelings and issues the movie evokes.

“What were the tough things about coming home for you?” and “How have your relationships changed with people who have not deployed?” ideally spark meaningful conversations for the soldiers and their families and help to deepen understanding on both sides.

The North Dakota National Guard’s 818th Engineer Company participated in the workshop during a Yellow Ribbon event in June. The 818th returned in March from a deployment to the southern Helmand Province in Afghanistan.

“You get to watch a movie,” Spc. Brad Sherman said. “That’s awesome. You get to sit down, kick back, and watch a pretty interesting movie… It doesn’t take everybody to walk overseas and say, ‘Hey can I get a plane ticket to Iraq?’… It’s pretty ballsy, he’s a pretty brave soul.”

The soldiers relate to Rademacher’s brothers, Isaac and Joe, while family members can relate to Jake’s wanting to understand what loved ones are going through, knowing that they never fully will.

North Dakota National Guard members from the 818th Engineer Company write in their "Brothers at War" journals after watching the film. The workshop incites conversations about being at war, coming home and relating to family. (Photo by Peter Haden, News21)

North Dakota National Guard members from the 818th Engineer Company write in their “Brothers at War” journals after watching the film. The workshop inspires conversations about being at war, coming home and relating to family. (Photo by Peter Haden, News21)

“You could definitely tell the emotions from the soldier’s perspective through Jake’s brothers and with Jake, as far as being the non-military member – those dynamics were interesting to see and I thought they were really true to life,” said Capt. Tom Leingang, a part of the Headquarters unit for the 818th.

Most importantly, the film allowed members of the 818th to discuss their feelings about reintegrating into civilian life.

“Any time you can get conversations going between soldiers, or do events with these reintegrations or Yellow Ribbon stuff, where soldiers can talk to each other, where they can open up to each other, or with their families, I think it’s important – I think it’s critical,” Leingang said.

VA provides $300 million in grants in effort to end veteran homelessness

By Catey Traylor, News21

Vaughn Little, a Gulf War Army infantryman, lost his leg during Operation Desert Storm. He is now homeless in New York City. (Photo by Catey Traylor, News21)

Vaughn Little, a Gulf War Army infantryman, lost his leg during Operation Desert Storm. He is now homeless in New York City. (Photo by Catey Traylor, News21)

Vaughn Little was alone, on the streets of New York City. With nowhere to go and no one to turn to, he found some cardboard and a marker and did what he swore he’d never do.

“Disable(d) veteran,” he carefully wrote. “Can’t walk; can’t talk. Please help. Thank you.”

Little sits in his wheelchair at the subway exit on the corner of 31st Street and 7th Avenue, across the street from the Hotel Pennsylvania, silently pleading for spare change.

An Army infantryman during the Gulf War, Little lost the lower portion of his right leg during Operation Desert Storm. He returned to the United States and had a hard time transitioning to civilian life.

He eventually found himself homeless.

Little is just one example of thousands of veterans who return from battle and end up sleeping on the streets they fought to defend.

The count of homeless post-9/11 veterans is unknown, but the increasing rate of homelessness among veterans has been a major concern for the U.S. Department of Veteran’s Affairs since 2009, when VA Secretary Eric Shinseki vowed to end veteran homelessness within five years.

Since then, housing programs have received budget increases to house homeless veterans. Most recently, the VA awarded $300 million in grants to the Supportive Services for Veteran Families program, known as SSVF.

SSVF aims to help veterans before they become chronically homeless by providing money to local organizations to promote housing stability and connect veterans and their families to support services such as mental health care.

“This is the third year SSVF grants have helped veterans and their families find or remain in their homes,” according to a July 11 news release. “Last year, (the) VA provided about $100 million to assist approximately 50,000 veterans and family members.”

More information about SSVF, as well as links to other VA-sponsored homelessness programs is available at www.va.gov/homeless.

American Indian Health Services to receive VA funds

By Mary Shinn, News21

Donna Jacobs, the director of the Northern Arizona VA Health Care System, presented at the Veterans Benefits Summit in Tuba City, Ariz. during June. The Northern Arizona VA Health Care System is working with Indian Health Service facilities and tribal facilities across their region to open veteran centered clinics. (Photo by Hannah Winston, News21)

Donna Jacobs, the director of the Northern Arizona VA Health Care System, presented at the Veterans Benefits Summit in Tuba City, Ariz. during June. The Northern Arizona VA Health Care System is working with Indian Health Service facilities and tribal facilities across their region to open veteran centered clinics. (Photo by Hannah Winston, News21)

Tuba City, Ariz. – American Indian Health Service centers and tribal health care clinics nationwide are now getting Department of Veterans Affairs reimbursement for care they provide to Native American veterans.

The reimbursements allow health care centers to share staff, technology, training and other resources. Native Americans who are veterans also get increased access to VA health care. For example Indian Health Services staff will receive training to treat veterans with conditions such as post-traumatic stress disorder.

The VA started processing reimbursements in May 2013.

In December 2012, VA and IHS signed the national agreement. Local versions of the agreement are being negotiated. So far 34 local agreements have been signed across the country, according the VA Office of Tribal Government Relations. There are 566 federally recognized tribes, many of them in remote locations.

Native Americans are only .8 percent of the overall U.S. population, but they are 1.6 percent of the currently deployed forces in Afghanistan, according to Department of Defense data.

Ron Tso, the CEO of an IHS center in the Navajo Nation, said at a health benefits summit in June that it’s important to share resources in preparation for returning veterans.

“We’re going to have a whole slew of veterans returning from Afghanistan, we have to be ready,” Tso said.

But IHS and the VA still haven’t designed a way to share electronic health records.

Veterans also voiced concerns at the June health summit on the Hopi Reservation in Arizona that part of the agreement would lead to more bureaucracy. For example, if a veteran needs care that was not provided by IHS, must go to the VA for a referral.

Rick Gray, a Vietnam veteran who lives on the Navajo Nation in Kayenta, Ariz., said often veterans are given inadequate answers when they ask specific questions about VA care.

“All we get it is: We’re sorry, we’re sorry,” he said.

Gray has fought for better healthcare on the Navajo Nation and he said it is true that the VA is trying to offer more veteran specific healthcare. In many cases they are still waiting for care to improve while the reimbursement agreements are put into place, he said. In many areas, veterans have been waiting for better care so long they no longer expect change, he said.

“A lot of the comments we get from veterans is: We’ll believe it, when we see it.”

Native American ceremonies help vet find his way

By Mary Shinn, News21

Maurco Ambrose attends Treaty Days, a celebration each year in June at the Navajo Nation in Church Rock, N.M. Ambrose served as an Army cook in Iraq, during 2008 and 2009. After he returned, he found that Blessing Way ceremonies helped direct his life. (Photo by Mauro Whiteman, News21)

Maurco Ambrose attends Treaty Days, a celebration each year in June at the Navajo Nation in Church Rock, N.M. Ambrose served as an Army cook in Iraq, during 2008 and 2009. After he returned, he found that Blessing Way ceremonies helped direct his life. (Photo by Mauro Whiteman, News21)

Church Rock, N.M. ­— Maurco Ambrose lost his way in life after he left the Army and went home to the Navajo Nation, but he found new direction through meditative ceremonies.

Ambrose enlisted in 2005 when he was 17 and spent five years with 2nd Brigade 4th Infantry Division based in Colorado Springs, Colo. and served as a cook in Iraq from 2008 to 2009. After the military’s rigorous routine, Ambrose said he had no direction, couldn’t find a job and started drinking.

“My whole world was shattered. I was lost. I didn’t know what to do so I started to make friends with the wrong people,” Ambrose said.

In the Army, he encountered a strong stigma toward admitting to any kind of post-traumatic stress or depression and Ambrose said that he never admitted needing any kind of mental help.

“Out of the blue” he attended a Blessing Way ceremony led by his father’s cousin, who is a medicine man. He enjoyed the style of singing. After two months, he asked if he could start following the medicine man he refers to as father in Navajo, out of respect.

Speaking Navajo mentally challenged him, Ambrose said. He understands reads and writes the language, but struggles to speak fluently. As he learned the songs, he began to contemplate his life.

The first 12 songs are called the Hogan songs and describe building the house, he said. It starts with a planning stage and moves through each stage including taking ownership of the house.

“The more I started asking questions about the songs and the sets that they came in, the more and more I became engaged in it. The more you learn about the song, the more you learn about yourself,” he said.

Ceremonies last all night, and that’s how Ambrose has spent many weekends over the last two years. The ceremonies have helped him plan the next steps of his life and act on them. He will start his second semester of nursing school in the fall.

The Department of Navajo Veterans Affairs reimburses Native veterans for a variety of traditional healing ceremonies and on average pays for about 300 ceremonies a year.

Therapy dog aids veterans with PTSD

By Bonnie Campo, News21

She rarely barks, but she always wags her tail as she enters some of the most difficult and darkened doorways of the Veterans Affairs Eastern Colorado Health Care System.

Elizabeth Holman demonstrates Waffle's ability to lean against patients on command, which Holman says brings comfort to PTSD patients at Denver's VA Medical Center. (Photo by Jake Stein, News21)

Elizabeth Holman demonstrates Waffle’s ability to lean against patients on command, which Holman says brings comfort to PTSD patients at Denver’s VA Medical Center. (Photo by Jake Stein, News21)

Waffle comes from a high pedigree of Labrador retrievers, but more importantly, she is the secondary caretaker for terminally ill veterans who are fighting their last battles. The 2-year-old pup also assists veterans who are newly returned home, those who have conditions such as post-traumatic stress disorder, and some who are just seeking a smile.

Waffle’s skill set includes responses to approximately 50 commands that range from her giving high-fives to opening doors for the disabled. Her handler, Elizabeth Holman, has worked four years for the Denver VA. Holman, a clinical psychologist, delivers palliative care, which focuses mainly on pain and stress.

Waffle offers an avenue for others to speak about their ailments, Holman said. She “can’t even imagine” what her practice would be like without Waffle, Holman said.

Dogs provide comfort, but they are no substitute for established PTSD treatment, according to the National Center of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, a division of the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs.

Waffle quietly rests beside Elizabeth Holman in front of Denver's VA Medical Center. (Photo by Jake Stein, News21)

Waffle quietly rests beside Elizabeth Holman in front of Denver’s VA Medical Center. (Photo by Jake Stein, News21)

“Although people with PTSD who have a service dog or emotional support dog may feel comforted by the animal, there is some chance he or she may continue to believe that they cannot do certain things on their own,” according to the VA Center website. “Depending on a dog can get in the way of the recovery process for PTSD.”

Even though most veterans are on medications, this treatment is an alternative that Holman said seems to be working, especially for those who are seeking some immediate relief.

Holman cited studies that report simply petting an animal lowers patients’ blood pressure and stress.

“This is her mission,” Holman said.

Holman thinks that some wounded veterans cannot speak comfortably to doctors — who must continuously jot notes and make personal assessments — as they might interact with an animal, she said.

Waffle came from the Canine Companions program and has provided therapy since February. She already is greeted like a celebrity in about every room she enters.

“We didn’t name her, but someone said that it fits her because she melts the veterans heart like butter,” Holman said.

It is too soon to have a clear evidence base to prove whether therapy dogs are an effective treatment, according to the national PTSD Center website, but Holman said she can see the difference in her patients.

For now Waffle’s four paws will continue to march hallways in the hospital, dispensing happiness to new and old faces.