Mr. President: Americans Want to Welcome Home The Troops, Too

Posted by Paul Rieckhoff on February 16

My Mom , me and my Grandma after coming home from my 4th Deployment at teh Harmon in Tacoma, Wa

A White House Dinner symbolizes a grateful country—but it's only a start.

In December, after eight years of combat, 32,000 Americans wounded, and 4,400 lives lost, the President told America that the Iraq war was over. And civilians nationwide began organizing parades—most notably, one for 100,000 people in St. Louis. Now, the President and First Lady are planning a historic White House Dinner –called “A Nation’s Gratitude” –for 200 Iraq veterans and their spouses from all 50 states. It’s the First Family’s way of saying “thank you” for their service and sacrifice.
The Pentagon is billing the black-tie dinner as symbolic of a grateful country—and it is. It’s a wonderful gesture from the First Family and an incredible honor for the few invited to attend. But unfortunately, one million vets of Iraq can’t pack into the East Room on February 29th. So the question we have to ask is: what about the rest of them? And what about all the American civilians who can’t attend to say “thank you”? Shouldn’t the entire nation be included in “A Nation’s Gratitude”?
We think so. That’s why today IAVA is proposing a deadline: we’re asking President Obama to convene a meeting of mayors nationwide to organize a National Day of Action – Operation Welcome Home. The goal? To turn America’s growing goodwill toward our Iraq veterans into concrete action. The one million veterans of Iraq represent the less than one percent. And all Americans want an outlet to honor their service while raising awareness and directing critical local resources to veterans and their families for the transition home.
As history closes the chapter on Iraq, Americans from all corners of the country want to respect all those who served there, remember those who died, and respond to the challenges they’re now facing at home from record unemployment to troubling suicide rates. It’s time for all of us, from the President to the Pentagon to mayors and ordinary citizens nationwide, to work together to channel our collective goodwill, support and momentum to deliver critical resources to the veterans’ community. Instead of having scattered parades all year long, we should work together - civilians and veterans united - to create one historic day of action: parades, memorials and service fairs in cities and towns large and small.
Just a few weeks ago, St. Louis was the first city in the nation to welcome home our Iraq veterans. It set the national benchmark not simply because it turned out 100,000 Americans in support of Iraq veterans, but because it was a multifaceted coming home event. The highly impactful, grassroots, civilian-led parade gave Americans a chance to say “thank you” to the troops. It was awesome—and it went a step beyond symbolic. It opened with a sober Memorial Ceremony to honor our dead and it ended with a Veterans Resource Village to connect local St. Louis veterans with critical employment, education and mental health resources. It was smart, popular, bi-partisan and even fun.
Since then, Douglas Wilson, the Assistant Secretary of Defense for Public Affairs, has stated repeatedly that the Pentagon supports the St. Louis model. In a recent interview on The Rachel Maddow Show, Wilson said “the kinds of things that we saw in St. Louis are the kinds of things we love to see around the country.” He and the Pentagon brass also support the President’s White House Dinner. Yet, they have strongly told Mayor Bloomberg “no” to a citywide event in New York. (Insert head-scratching here.)
Like any other hometown, New York City loves its vets too. And patriotic civilian leadership from both parties is asking the question: If our NY Giants deserve a parade, don’t our Iraq vets? These leaders want to give Operation Welcome Home the national momentum it deserves too. Folks ranging from former Mayor Ed Koch to City Councilman Vincent Ignizio (R-SI) to Speaker Christine Quinn (D-3) support a citywide celebration. Councilman Ignizio started this whole push for a Big Apple Parade way back in December. As one little girl from Staten Island sums it up, people just want to connect and say thank you. So what’s the harm in that?
The idea has caught fire. And we’ve addressed almost every single argument against it. Across the country, ordinary Americans are joining the guys in St. Louis to coordinate their own events. In San Antonio, Richmond and a dozen other cities, they’re planning parades and service fairs for their local Iraq vets. Lead by civilians, not veterans themselves, this welcome home movement is gaining steam by the day – reinforcing the urgency to coordinate our efforts and resources nationally. The American people are speaking. Loudly. And it’s time for the Pentagon and the President to lead, follow or get out of the way.
At the end of the day, we all want to welcome home America’s veterans in the most positive, meaningful and impactful ways possible. We know parades and a White House Dinner are not enough. Not even close. But if we’re smart and proactive as a country, we’ll rally the goodwill that started in St. Louis to spotlight and deliver community resources nationwide now—instead of delaying until history closes the chapter on both wars. A National Day of Action for those who have already returned should pave the way for those yet to come home, while activating the country around our entire community for years to come. Americans are keenly aware of the lessons after the Vietnam War. They know that honoring and supporting our troops 10 years after a war ends is a disgrace. We need to show those that have fought for our country that we have their backs now. So if the Pentagon says a national event isn’t an option now, then they need to tell Americans when. None of us have a crystal ball—combat operations might not end until 2013--at the earliest. So we’re looking to our leaders for some productive ways to organize and activate locally in the meantime.
No matter the front they fought on, our returning veterans are coming home today to entirely new battles - against unemployment, invisible mental health injuries, and bureaucratic red tape around their hard-earned benefits. The end of the Iraq war has increased the demand within our community for services, support and understanding of the issues our veterans face. A National Day of Action could raise the standard of awareness and resources to support our veterans’ community on the scale we’ve seen for other causes like Hope for Haiti, Live 8 and America: A Tribute to Heroes after 9/11.
In a perfect world, every Iraq vet could visit the White House for a black-tie dinner and every day would be Veterans Day—but that’s not possible. But replicating St. Louis at scale, a demonstration of our entire nation’s gratitude is possible. And now is the time for the President and the Pentagon to listen to the American people who want to help. Let’s channel that unprecedented goodwill and gratitude into something practical and lasting, in a way that benefits our veterans and their families for years to come.
If we do it right, it will do more than just help our veterans. It might just help unite our divided country. And that’s a mission all veterans would be proud to be a part of.
Paul Rieckhoff is the Founder and Executive Director of Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America, and the author of Chasing Ghosts.

I have PTSD...so what?

I really like what he says and how he says it, don't agree completly with carry weapons around but nonetheless the message is great.....

"For those who are like me, there is help. Seek it out. You were strong enough to make it this far, don’t give up. Dig a little deeper and make that final push. If you do not know where to go or have fallen astray, contact me. I will help. We are all brothers and sisters in this battle that will rage invariably for eternity and the one constant is that we have each other."
 By RU Rob
I have PTSD. We all know what it is, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I am one of millions who are affected by it each and every day. Millions of men and women who have varying symptoms yet manage to maintain a normal lifestyle. I, along with my cohorts, have been classified as a potential powder keg just waiting on that spark to set us off into a murderous explosion of ire. This is not the case as I am just as normal as you.
At the end of every day I lay my head down in an attempt to sleep. That in itself is no different than you. But when my eyes close and I should be drifting off into a peaceful bliss, my mind takes over and I am tormented in my dreams with a vivid and exaggerated version of every combat encounter witnessed. There has been nary a night that I do not have this, and have not had an uninterrupted night of sleep for years. Yet in the morning, I rise with the consistency of the sun, roll out of my sweat soaked bed, and shake off the remnants of the nightly battles and start my day…just like you.
I am functional in society, but I am a little more vigilant than you, always on the look-out for danger, avoiding large crowds and loud places. But somehow, I can still manage to go out to eat, shop for my clothes and drive my car. I pay close attention to those around me, see the drug deal that just took place on my right and notice the people who just don’t belong in a certain situation. You may not have evil intentions, but I will notice nonetheless.
I have guns. As a matter of fact I just about always have one on me. You see, even though I have PTSD, I am still a Sheepdog watching out for my flock. I don’t brandish my weapon and most of the time you won’t even know I have it on my body, but it is there. I also carry a large knife in my pocket, one that could cause serious injury or death if used improperly. I have never used any of my weapons in a malicious manner and never will, but in my duties as a Sheepdog I will not hesitate to draw down on you should the circumstance warrant it. I am armed, but I am not dangerous.
There are times that I am medicated. My PTSD comes in cycles and when things get bad I need that extra chemical push to regulate me. I accept this and because of it I do not drink. I have other physical problems that could easily warrant an addiction to pain killers, but just like most of us with PTSD, I avoid it.
I have never committed violence in the workplace, just like the vast majority of those who suffer with me. My co-workers know I spent time in the military but they do not know of my daily struggles, and they won’t. I can still communicate with my subordinates and supervisors in a clear manner. I have never physically assaulted anyone out of anger or rage.
It pains me when I listen to the news and every time a veteran commits a crime (or commits suicide); it is automatically linked to and blamed on PTSD. Yes, there are some who cannot control their actions due to this imbalance in our heads, but don’t put a label on us that we are all incorrigible. Very few of us are bad. There are more of us out there that are trying harder to do good than the lesser alternative.
Do not pity me. I know who I am and recognize the journey that has shaped me into what I am. I have no regrets about anything that I have done in the past and look forward to many wonderful years in the future. I freely take every step of life during the day knowing that there is something that will haunt me at night.
For those who are like me, there is help. Seek it out. You were strong enough to make it this far, don’t give up. Dig a little deeper and make that final push. If you do not know where to go or have fallen astray, contact me. I will help. We are all brothers and sisters in this battle that will rage invariably for eternity and the one constant is that we have each other.
To the rest of society and particularly the media: I have PTSD!

This pencil illustration attempts to visualize PTSD

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). This pencil illustration attempts to visualize PTSD. Those that suffer from this disorder are constantly trying to regain some sense of the normalcy they had before events that caused pieces of themselves to go missing. This illustration was created by MSgt William Vance, Medical Multimedia Manager for the 59th Public Affairs Office."

A New Home for Nightmare Treatment

by Barry Krakow, MD

A new home for nightmare treatment

Military personnel returning from wars in Afghanistan and Iraq show increasing rates of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and post-traumatic nightmares. Media coverage of these two vexing mental health conditions is also intensifying and raising public awareness about the need for more effective therapeutic options. With growing attention focused on patients with nightmares, sleep centers have an opportunity to engage these patients. Successfully doing so hinges on applying a standard of care for nightmare assessment and treatment through behavioral sleep medicine specialists.

MENTAL HEALTH VIEW OF NIGHTMARES

Traditionally, nightmares reflect emotional turmoil that needs venting through the process of dreaming. This psychological perspective fuels the entrenched and enduring focus on dream interpretation therapy as one of two core treatments for this potent sleep disrupter. The other primary approach known as exposure therapy is gaining ascendency in the mental health community because of the prevailing view that PTSD—the cause of the disturbing dreams—must be treated first. As the theory goes, the nightmares will resolve when their cause is treated. Yet, both these treatment paradigms (dream interpretation and exposure) trigger treatment avoidance among nightmare patients because of their fear of unmasking unpleasant mental health issues. Although this paradox creates an opening for nightmare patients to seek help outside of mental health facilities, it is rare for sleep medicine clinics to encounter patients seeking treatment exclusively for nightmares.

SLEEP MEDICINE PROFESSIONALS

To date, the sleep medicine profession has not applied a standard of care for nightmare assessment and treatment. While recent practice parameters published in the Journal of Clinical Sleep Medicine spell out efficacious treatment strategies for chronic nightmares, no evidence suggests these standards are widely adopted. To make treatment options more readily available, the sleep medicine community, particularly the field of behavioral sleep medicine, must embrace the emerging model of "nightmares as an independent sleep disorder," a paradigm described in the scientific literature for more than 20 years and now inferred by the new practice parameters.

In the practice parameters, imagery rehearsal therapy (IRT) is a Level A treatment and a relatively simple instruction that seems to alter the dreaming cycle by taking advantage of the fact that waking imagery influences sleeping imagery. The technique is no more complicated than asking someone to recall a recent bad dream, change this dream's content into a "new dream" while awake, and then spend a few minutes each day rehearsing the images from the new dream. For nightmare patients without complex comorbidities such as anxiety, depression, or PTSD, one clinic appointment is sufficient to teach IRT. Treatment is more involved among nightmare patients with PTSD who may require as much as 5 to 15 hours of clinical follow-up through individual appointments or group programs, primarily because they need extensive coaching to reach the point of receptivity to, interest in, and comfort with the imagery technique.

TAKING THE LEAD

In order to more firmly root sleep medicine professionals as leading care providers for this patient population, the next logical step will be facilitating and marketing the role of behavioral sleep medicine specialists as therapists for nightmare patients. The most expedient ways to develop this market include internal development and external outreach. At the most basic level, introducing a few key questions into the sleep center's intake process such as "How often do you suffer from nightmares?" and "Do your nightmares disturb your sleep?" has proven highly reliable in identifying patients likely to be interested in nightmare treatment. Outreach may be straightforward if your sleep center resides in a locale that also houses military installations.
At Maimonides Sleep Arts & Sciences, the single largest source of treatment-seeking nightmare patients is the US Air Force and US Army. The second most useful resource is outpatient mental health clinics or therapists, who routinely see patients with chronic nightmares yet often do not provide effective treatment programs for disturbing dreams. Many of these therapists are frustrated with their inability to resolve the nightmares in their patients, and therefore, they tend to be very receptive to programs such as IRT.
To maximize clinical efforts toward nightmare patients in our PTSD Sleep Clinic, we combine individual patient encounters with a self-help workbook and audio series, Turning Nightmares into Dreams (2002), developed at Maimonides Sleep Arts & Sciences. We believe the workbook not only reinforces treatment efforts, but in the majority of cases it decreases the total number of follow-up appointments.
In clinic, we have also seen that nightmares serve as a marker for much more complex sleep disturbances. Our PTSD Sleep Clinic experience demonstrates that nightmare patients almost always suffer from insomnia and a sizeable proportion (70% or greater) suffer from obstructive sleep apnea (OSA). When testing is conducted for upper airway resistance syndrome, upwards of 90% or more of our nightmare patients suffer diagnosable sleep-disordered breathing. Thus, both cognitive behavioral therapy for insomnia (CBT-I) and positive airway pressure therapy (PAP-T) for OSA are important treatments to be considered for nightmare patients seeking help at sleep medical centers.
Other nightmare treatment programs have also been tested, many of which use components of IRT: Burgess, Marks, and Gill (2001) published Self-Help for Nightmares, a manual that uses self-exposure therapy; Davis (2008) recently published Treating Post-Trauma Nightmares, which combines elements of IRT and exposure therapy. In the 1990s, Krakow and Neidhardt published Conquering Bad Dreams & Nightmares (1992), the first book on IRT; Cartwright and Lamberg published Crisis Dreaming (1992), an innovative dream interpretation approach to nightmares; and Lansky published Posttraumatic Nightmares (1995), an authoritative work on the psychodynamic approach.
By embracing and applying a standard of care for nightmare patients, sleep medicine physicians and psychologists are likely to emerge as leading care providers in offering solutions and treatments for afflicted individuals. And as military personnel return from wars in the Middle East and the media expands coverage of related mental health issues, our profession has an opportunity to serve these soldiers and others who need treatment for chronic nightmares.

Barry Krakow, MD, is the author of Sound Sleep, Sound Mind, principal investigator at Sleep & Human Health Institute, and medical director at Maimonides Sleep Arts & Sciences Ltd (www.sleeptreatment.com), and blogs at www.sleepdynamictherapy.com. He can be reached at sleepeditor@allied360.com.
We have seen that nightmares serve as a marker for much more complex sleep disturbances.

I Miss Iraq. I Miss My Gun. I Miss My War.

Mosul, Iraq 2004 -2005

Busa and I on FOB Marez 2004-2005

The "Deuce" in the many news publications

I found this in Esquire and the sentiment he talks about are grounded in truth. The feelings of exhilaration when creeping through the streets at night prior to a raid can't be explained. I too miss it......

By Brian Mockenhaupt
A few months ago, I found a Web site loaded with pictures and videos from Iraq, the sort that usually aren't seen on the news. I watched insurgent snipers shoot American soldiers and car bombs disintegrate markets, accompanied by tinny music and loud, rhythmic chanting, the soundtrack of the propaganda campaigns. Video cameras focused on empty stretches of road, building anticipation. Humvees rolled into view and the explosions brought mushroom clouds of dirt and smoke and chunks of metal spinning through the air. Other videos and pictures showed insurgents shot dead while planting roadside bombs or killed in firefights and the remains of suicide bombers, people how they're not meant to be seen, no longer whole. The images sickened me, but their familiarity pulled me in, giving comfort, and I couldn't stop. I clicked through more frames, hungry for it. This must be what a shot of dope feels like after a long stretch of sobriety. Soothing and nauseating and colored by everything that has come before. My body tingled and my stomach ached, hollow. I stood on weak legs and walked into the kitchen to make dinner. I sliced half an onion before putting the knife down and watching slight tremors run through my hand. The shakiness lingered. I drank a beer. And as I leaned against this kitchen counter, in this house, in America, my life felt very foreign.
I've been home from Iraq for more than a year, long enough for my time there to become a memory best forgotten for those who worried every day that I was gone. I could see their relief when I returned. Life could continue, with futures not so uncertain. But in quiet moments, their relief brought me guilt. Maybe they assume I was as overjoyed to be home as they were to have me home. Maybe they assume if I could do it over, I never would have gone. And maybe I wouldn't have. But I miss Iraq. I miss the war. I miss war. And I have a very hard time understanding why.
I'm glad to be home, to have put away my uniforms, to wake up next to my wife each morning. I worry about my friends who are in Iraq now, and I wish they weren't. Often I hated being there, when the frustrations and lack of control over my life were complete and mind-bending. I questioned my role in the occupation and whether good could come of it. I wondered if it was worth dying or killing for. The suffering and ugliness I saw disgusted me. But war twists and shifts the landmarks by which we navigate our lives, casting light on darkened areas that for many people remain forever unexplored. And once those darkened spaces are lit, they become part of us. At a party several years ago, long before the Army, I listened to a friend who had served several years in the Marines tell a woman that if she carried a pistol for a day, just tucked in her waistband and out of sight, she would feel different. She would see the world differently, for better or worse. Guns empower. She disagreed and he shrugged. No use arguing the point; he was just offering a little piece of truth. He was right, of course. And that's just the beginning.
I've spent hours taking in the world through a rifle scope, watching life unfold. Women hanging laundry on a rooftop. Men haggling over a hindquarter of lamb in the market. Children walking to school. I've watched this and hoped that someday I would see that my presence had made their lives better, a redemption of sorts. But I also peered through the scope waiting for someone to do something wrong, so I could shoot him. When you pick up a weapon with the intent of killing, you step onto a very strange and serious playing field. Every morning someone wakes wanting to kill you. When you walk down the street, they are waiting, and you want to kill them, too. That's not bloodthirsty; that's just the trade you've learned. And as an American soldier, you have a very impressive toolbox. You can fire your rifle or lob a grenade, and if that's not enough, call in the tanks, or helicopters, or jets. The insurgents have their skill sets, too, turning mornings at the market into chaos, crowds into scattered flesh, Humvees into charred scrap. You're all part of the terrible magic show, both powerful and helpless.
That men are drawn to war is no surprise. How old are boys before they turn a finger and thumb into a pistol? Long before they love girls, they love war, at least everything they imagine war to be: guns and explosions and manliness and courage. When my neighbors and I played war as kids, there was no fear or sorrow or cowardice. Death was temporary, usually as fast as you could count to sixty and jump back into the game. We didn't know yet about the darkness. And young men are just slightly older versions of those boys, still loving the unknown, perhaps pumped up on dreams of duty and heroism and the intoxicating power of weapons. In time, war dispels many such notions, and more than a few men find that being freed from society's professed revulsion to killing is really no freedom at all, but a lonely burden. Yet even at its lowest points, war is like nothing else. Our culture craves experience, and that is war's strong suit. War peels back the skin, and you live with a layer of nerves exposed, overdosing on your surroundings, when everything seems all wrong and just right, in a way that makes perfect sense. And then you almost die but don't, and are born again, stoned on life and mocking death. The explosions and gunfire fry your nerves, but you want to hear them all the same. Something's going down.
For those who know, this is the open secret: War is exciting. Sometimes I was in awe of this, and sometimes I felt low and mean for loving it, but I loved it still. Even in its quiet moments, war is brighter, louder, brasher, more fun, more tragic, more wasteful. More. More of everything. And even then I knew I would someday miss it, this life so strange. Today the war has distilled to moments and feelings, and somewhere in these memories is the reason for the wistfulness.
On one mission we slip away from our trucks and into the night. I lead the patrol through the darkness, along canals and fields and into the town, down narrow, hard-packed dirt streets. Everyone has gone to bed, or is at least inside. We peer through gates and over walls into courtyards and into homes. In a few rooms TVs flicker. A woman washes dishes in a tub. Dogs bark several streets away. No one knows we are in the street, creeping. We stop at intersections, peek around corners, training guns on parked cars, balconies, and storefronts. All empty. We move on. From a small shop up ahead, we hear men's voices and laughter. Maybe they used to sit outside at night, but now they are indoors, where it's safe. Safer. The sheet-metal door opens and a man steps out, cigarette and lighter in hand. He still wears a smile, takes in the cool night air, and then nearly falls backward through the doorway in a panic. I'm a few feet from him now and his eyes are wide. I mutter a greeting and we walk on, back into the darkness.


Read more: http://www.esquire.com/features/essay/ESQ0307ESSAY#ixzz1l3Hj7D2C

In Afghan war, rate of post-injury survival rises

By David Brown

Army Spec. Bryce MacBride, wounded in Afghanistan in late 2010, waits in the hallway of a hospital at Bagram Airfield. (Linda Davidson — The Washington Post) There has probably never been a war in which there has been as much on-the-job improvement in the care of the wounded than there has been in the United States’ war in Afghanistan. Of course, at 10 years and counting, there has been a lot of time for practice.
That truth is evident in a recent report by the Congressional Research Service, “Afghanistan Casualties: Military Forces and Civilians.” It sketches out the remarkable ability of military physicians and nurses to save the lives of grievously wounded troops.
Last year, 415 American men and women died in Afghanistan, while 5,159 were wounded and survived.
That ratio — 12.4 survivors for every fatality — marked a record high over the past decade. In fact, the ratio has been growing almost every year since 2001.
In 2007, the first year in which battlefield deaths in Afghanistan surpassed 100, there were only 6.4 survivors for every fatality. The ratio dipped slightly in 2008 but has increased ever since.
How much better are doctors, nurses, medics, corpsmen and technicians in this war than in previous ones?
That’s hard to answer with precision. Comparisons are tricky because the quality of medical care isn’t all that changes between conflicts. Indeed, the nature and hazards of combat can evolve during the course of a war.
For example, a study of military personnel killed in Iraq and Afghanistan in the second half of 2006 found that 76 percent of fatalities were caused by explosions. Earlier in the wars (2003-04), that “mechanism of injury” was responsible for 56 percent of deaths.
In previous wars, blast injuries accounted for less than 10 percent of battle injuries.
That said, there is plenty of evidence that troops wounded today have a far better chance of survival than ever before.
In 2006, approximately 9.8 percent of wounded service members died either on the battlefield or after leaving it in Afghanistan and Iraq. During the Vietnam War, that figure, the “case fatality rate,” was 16 percent. During World War II, it was 19 percent.
These days, if you make it to a hospital alive, your chances of surviving are extremely good.
During the first eight years of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, 4.6 percent of troops who got to the trauma bay of a hospital eventually died. (During the 2007 “surge” in Iraq, that number was 3.2 percent ). Furthermore, the number has stayed low even as the severity of injuries has worsened.
Many factors have produced this story of survival.
They include consistent use of body armor; fire-retardant uniforms; the timely application of tourniquets (every service member carries two); battlefield bandages loaded with clot-forming powder; the use of whole blood (or its equivalent in components) in resuscitating patients; less use of IV fluids on the battlefield and in helicopter evacuation; a strategy of many short operations (“damage-control surgery”) in treating victims of poly-trauma; the placement of neurosurgeons in forward hospitals; and the improvement that comes with experience and multiple deployments.
“None of these kids would have survived in the civilian world,” Col. Jay Johannigman, an Air Force surgeon, said in late 2010 at Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan after a weekly meeting in which doctors review what has happened to critically injured troops after they return to the United States.
“And we never would have saved them five years ago.”

Plan would help military families take leave

The best medicine for recovery is having loved ones around. I remember after coming back from Iraq in 2005 I was moved to Boise to serve in an ROTC billet. With no friends, family or any aquantences I found it the hardest transition I had ever had to do and very nearly fell into depression. This would really help Soldiers and their families and also allow family memebrs to be there without the reprecussions of losing their jobs.

By SAM HANANEL
Associated Press

WASHINGTON (AP) -- The Obama administration proposed new rules Monday to help military families care for service members when they are called to active duty or become injured.

The proposal expands eligibility under the Family and Medical Leave Act, which allows employees to take unpaid leave for certain medical or family reasons.

First lady Michelle Obama joined Labor Secretary Hilda Solis to announce the plan, which would allow caregivers to take leave to care for family members up to five years after they leave the military. Current law only covers family members of those currently serving in the military.

"We want to recognize the extraordinary dedication, sacrifice and service of our nation's caregivers, not simply with words but with deeds," Obama said during a Labor Department ceremony attended by dozens of military members and their families.

The rules would also expand leave to cover family members of those in the regular armed forces, not just families of National Guard members and reservists.

"Many service members come home stressed, ill and injured," Solis said. "They need attention, care and support from the people that love them most."

The proposal would let family members take up to 12 weeks of leave from work to help a service member deployed on short notice. Family caregivers could attend military functions, deal with child care issues, or make financial and legal arrangements without fear of losing their jobs.

It would also give family members up to 26 weeks of leave to care for recent veterans who were injured or became ill in the line of duty. That includes conditions that don't arise until after a veteran has left military service.

The plan expands from five days to 15 days the amount of time an employee can take off work to spend with a service member who is on leave to rest or recuperate.