By Wilson Ring
The Associated Press

COLCHESTER -- Almost every day, retired Vermont National Guard Sgt. 1st Class Michael Currier heads out looking for service members who are having trouble readjusting to civilian life.

Some days, he meets with members of the clergy, soldiers' wives, parents, employers, sometimes the police. And of course, he meets with the soldiers themselves.

Based in Springfield, he's looking for soldiers having trouble resuming a routine after having spent time in Iraq or Afghanistan. Currier, 50, is readjusting to civilian life himself.

Currier returned to Vermont in July 2006 after spending almost a year in Ramadi, Iraq, with the Vermont National Guard's Task Force Saber. During their 11 months on the ground, the 400-member battalion was in near-daily contact with Iraqi insurgents. Six Vermont soldiers were killed.

"In Ramadi, you don't really think about the stress level," Currier said. "When you're in theater you do suck it up and drive on, but after you get out of theater and you get back to reality, all those things are going to come to a boil, and that's when the issues start."

Currier understands when he talks to a combat veteran whose wife is worried about violent mood swings, or someone who drinks too much or is withdrawing from his family. Because he understands, the soldiers don't resent the intrusion.

"Across the board, people are glad they've been contacted, even if they're not dealing with readjustment issues," said retired Vermont National Guard chaplain Jim MacIntyre, who heads the first-of-its kind outreach program from guard headquarters at Camp Johnson in Colchester. "There's a receptivity on the part of the soldier that somebody out there cares enough about what's going on."

Formally known as a Global War on Terrorism Outreach Specialist, Currier is one of six people who run the program for the National Guard. Five are combat veterans.

"We've been tasked to contact every reservist who's been deployed," said Currier, who covers Vermont's four southern counties. "In the worst case, we work off the list and call the vet and sit down with him and his family."

There are other ways to reach out. He recently met with veterans taking courses at the Community College of Vermont.

"The referrals are increasing," said MacIntyre, a Vietnam veteran.

Thirty service members with close ties to Vermont, including 11 National Guardsmen, have died supporting the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. Thousands have served.

While the focus is on guard members back from Iraq or Afghanistan, the outreach team members also look for soldiers back from Army Reserve units or active duty soldiers who have returned to civilian life. Occasionally, they meet service members who are dealing with the emotional scars of earlier conflicts.

MacIntyre recently met with a soldier who returned to Vermont more than a year ago. While in Iraq, the soldier had to clean out a vehicle in which a friend was killed by a sniper.

"Some of those things are beginning to surface now, a year after they got back," said MacIntyre, who helped the soldier get into a counseling program.

The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan have prompted a recognition that wartime service changes people, even if they don't see combat or lose friends.

"With what we know from Vietnam, this is felt to be an initiative to get people while they are going through the adjustment period," said MacIntyre, a Vietnam combat veteran.

The program is more than just seeking people who might be showing symptoms of traditional post traumatic stress disorder. It has a component that asks soldiers how many times they were hit in the head.

People who are shaken by hidden bombs -- improvised explosive devices -- can suffer long-term effects, even if they don't appear wounded at the time.

"Some had been through three to four or up to 15 blasts," MacIntyre said.

They can become forgetful, be prone to sudden, angry outbursts, or behave differently than they used to. "A number of wives have helped us identify that in their spouses," MacIntyre said.

The program also helps the VA pay for additional mental health counselors across the state.

From a clinical point of view, it's too soon to say if the program works, said Dr. Andrew Pomerantz, the chief of mental health and behavioral sciences at the White River Junction Veterans Affairs hospital.

"It has been a learn-as-you-go experience," Pomerantz said.

The program grew out of a series of meetings over several years between the VA and the guard.

"We used to talk about wouldn't it be great if we just had people going around knocking on doors," Pomerantz said.

The program was first funded with a $1 million federal appropriation secured by U.S. Sen. Bernie Sanders, I-Vt. A second appropriation of $3 million for the Vermont program is nearing approval in Congress. Sanders is seeking another $30 million to expand the program nationwide.

Some of Vermont's six outreach workers have had mental health training, but they're not counselors, and that's not their job.

When Currier or the others find someone who can benefit from a variety of after-combat programs, they can make referrals, help with paperwork or, in many cases, drive a veteran to his first appointment. They'll also arrange marriage counseling.

Currier, 50, is a 32-year military veteran who joined the guard after 22 years on active duty. Despite his senior position, he never considered staying behind when his unit was called up in early 2005.

"If I said no it would be like my whole military career was a fraud," Currier said.

While in Iraq, he worked 12 to 18 hour days, seven days a week, like everyone else. They became consumed by their mission.

"Then when you get home you find a lot of the stuff that was important to you before you were deployed isn't important to you," he said. "You have to force yourself to do some of the everyday mundane things."

Sometimes he has a hard time sleeping. Before he became an outreach specialist, he had trouble focusing on his job as a recruiting officer.

In many ways, his new job is therapeutic, he said, but "some days it hits too close to home." When that happens, he seeks out his counselor.

"I just feel rewarded by dealing with them and helping them with their issues," Currier said. "So it's not quite as mundane for me."