U.S. Marine Corps Sgt. Lance Davison was returning from a nighttime mission in Al Kut, Iraq, on July 20, 2003, when a hail of enemy bullets began raining down on his scout sniper team. Out of the darkness came a large group of militants firing machine guns and rocket-propelled grenades.
The Marine snipers were ambushed and surrounded. In the chaos of battle, Davison saw one of his fellow Marines fall. Refusing to leave his brother in arms behind, Davison returned fire as he scooped up his fatally wounded comrade.
With the help of his team, Davison broke through the enemy line, taking a bullet himself in the process. The wounded Davison then carried the slain Marine on his back for nearly two miles to the nearest U.S. military outpost.
Yesterday, it was Davison’s turn to be carried home.
Davison, 34, was laid to rest with full military honors at Citizens Cemetery yesterday, two weeks after he took his own life inside his Flagstaff home. Hundreds of people whose lives were touched by Davison attended his funeral, which incorporated traditions from both his Anglo and Navajo heritage. Uniformed members of the military, the Flagstaff Police Department and the Patriot Guard Riders motorcycle group joined the procession down North Fourth Street, where community members waving American flags were waiting to pay tribute to a fallen hero.
For Davison, the decision to end his life came after a nearly decade-long struggle with post-traumatic stress disorder and the lasting effects of traumatic brain injuries he sustained during combat in Afghanistan and Iraq.
“We have an epidemic in our country right now of kids who are experiencing these problems,� said Davison’s father, John. “They’re bringing the war home with them.”�
The latest figures from the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs show an average of 22 military veterans take their own lives every day. Like Davison, many of those veterans survived combat abroad only to find a new battle waiting for them at home as they tried to adjust to civilian life. They may not be officially included among the more than 6,500 military men and women killed in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, but for John, their injuries are just as real.
“These are wounds in the mind,� John said.
* * *
Davison grew up in Flagstaff. By all accounts, he was a bright, happy child with a contagious laugh who excelled at football and wrestling and loved playfully torturing his younger sister and brother. After he graduated from Flagstaff High School in 1997, Davison jumped at the chance to join the U.S. Marine Corps.
“He wanted to go into the Marines because it was the best branch of service,� John said. “It’s the most elite.�
Davison, who is half Navajo, embraced the role of the “Navajo warrior.� He served one tour of duty in Afghanistan and two tours in Iraq, earning 16 commendations and medals � including the Bronze Star and Purple Heart � for his heroism.
“Sgt. Lance Davison, a valiant Marine and devoted father, is one of the reasons that our nation is mighty,� said U.S. Rep. Ann Kirkpatrick, D-Flagstaff, at Davison’s standing-room-only funeral at Trinity Heights United Methodist Church Saturday.
In 2004, Davison was wounded in Iraq and received a medical discharge. A few weeks later, he was back in Flagstaff. His father John noticed something was different with his son.
“There’s very little time between the day they were standing on the streets of Baghdad and the day that they’re standing on the streets at home,� John said. “There’s not enough time that’s transpired where they can adjust.�
Davison had been wounded in combat by bullets, shrapnel, improvised explosive devices and rocket-propelled grenade attacks. He had even had an entire wall crash down on him. But the scars he carried were more than skin deep. Davison began showing signs of depression and other symptoms of PTSD. He became withdrawn and anxious in crowds.
* * *
It was around that time that he reconnected with Flagstaff Police Department Officer Matt Monteverde, who he had known since junior high school. Monteverde convinced him to join the police force and became one of his training officers. They soon became best friends.
“He was a hell of a cop,� Monteverde said.
Monteverde saw Davison using the skills he had learned in the Marines in his new job as a police officer, but said he never bragged about his military service. He was struck by Davison’s humility, especially as Davison began to open up to Monteverde.
“He would talk to me about the challenges he had, the things he had seen over in the ‘sandbox,’� Monteverde said. “Things that were haunting him.�
Still, Monteverde said Davison was reluctant to reveal when he was having a hard time.
It became abundantly clear that Davison was struggling with PTSD in the early morning hours of Jan. 6, 2006, when he got into a fight with two men while he was off duty in a downtown bar. Davison was charged with misdemeanor assault and disorderly conduct and put on administrative leave at the Police Department. He pleaded guilty to one count of disorderly conduct. He later admitted he had been unable to turn off the switch in his brain that told him to fight during the confrontation.
* * *
Dr. Augusta Roth, a psychiatrist who has worked for the National Center for PTSD, said that kind of reaction is not unusual in people with PTSD. While the general public may of think PTSD as a purely psychiatric or psychological condition, Roth said it also causes physical changes to the brain. Specifically, PTSD causes the amygdalae � the areas responsible for fear and creating the stress hormone cortisol � to become larger and the hippocampi, which helps control fear responses, to shrink.
“The brain areas needed for emergency response to danger are unable to go back to normal,� Roth said. “People are trapped in fight-or-flight mode with chronically elevated cortisol levels, and elevated cortisol can kill cells in the hippocampus.�
Davison’s combat-related traumatic brain injuries may have made his symptoms even worse.
“This combination of brain insults has been called ‘the perfect storm,’� Roth said. “Each intensifies the other. A (traumatic brain injury) increases the risk of developing PTSD.�
* * *
The bar fight ended Davison’s career with the Flagstaff Police Department. Monteverde noticed his friend “checking out� after that. His father described that period of Davison’s life as the time when he was at “the bottom of the barrel.� But he said his son refused to go out without a fight.
“He attacked it head-on,� John said.
After he left the Police Department, Davison sought help at the VA in Tucson. He began taking antidepressants and narcotic painkillers prescribed by his doctors and found a psychiatrist in Flagstaff. He eventually joined the Flagstaff Hitmen club football team, found a home away from home at the CrossFit Flagstaff gym and founded the Raven 2 Operator Development Group, a marksmanship school owned by combat disabled veterans providing enhanced training for Special Operations Command operatives and agency professionals.
Monteverde would still get phone calls in the middle of the night when Davison needed to talk about the memories that were haunting him, but it seemed to Davison’s loved ones that he had finally found his niche.
* * *
Then, his family got the call from police. Davison had taken his own life on Feb. 9.
The news baffled everyone.
“I was feeling so good that he was getting a grip on things and he was turning things around,� John said. “Hopefully, it was going to be a difference for him. Everyone thought that. We were all blind-sided by this.�
John said he hopes his son’s death will draw attention to the needs of the U.S. servicemen and women who return from war with unseen scars.
“We’ve got to realize, all of us Americans, that it’s our problem,� John said. “We can’t ask these kids to do this kind of stuff, to go in and sacrifice their lives and then just let them come home and ignore them.�
Kirkpatrick said at the funeral that she would read a tribute to Davison into the congressional record. She also vowed to do more for veterans like Davison.
“He deserves a community and a country that stands up for our veterans when they come home,� Kirkpatrick said. “These men and women have served honorably, but they may also struggle mightily.�
Michelle McManimon can be reached at [email protected] or 556-2261.