A Tale of Two Soldiers

This was their honeymoon. Young donned a star-spangled bandanna around his neck. He wore a jacket stuffed with ice packs to prevent overheating. He carried a sign that an artist had made for him. It bore his unit's coat of arms — a yellow shield with a black horse emblem — and a message. He'd just come from Fort Hood, where he had demanded an apology or an explanation for his near-suicide mission. The officers who agreed to meet with him offered him neither. At Camp Casey, he hoped the president would meet with him. His sign read: "Mr. Bush, Why Won't You Meet With Me?"

Trailing the couple that day was an independent film crew, taping them as they maneuvered the wheelchair through the rugged field. Since his injury, Young had made some powerful allies. Young's hospital meeting with Phil Donahue had left an impression on the former talk-show host. Not long after Young returned to Kansas City in July 2004, Donahue visited him to pitch the idea of making a documentary about life after his injury. Donahue found the political coloring of Young's family situation compelling. His mom was blue; his stepdad red. His army-green brother still believed in the war and was awaiting deployment to Iraq.

Donahue promised to put up his own money for the project. All proceeds would go to the Youngs. Donahue says the nearly completed documentary will definitely be political. "Take a look, America. This is what happens when we stand there silently allowing one man to swagger us into an unaffordable, unnecessary unwinable, immoral war," Donahue tells the Pitch. "And for all those gung-ho warriors — we want them to meet Tomas Young."

At Crawford, Young sat under a large canvas tent as bands played patriotic songs. He'd come to give testament to his story, hoping that a few blog entries about him and maybe some local media reports could generate larger interest.

Sheehan met Young and listened to him tell his story. Moved, she put $300 in Brie's hand and invited Young and 20 other members of Iraq Veterans Against the War to stand with her in the dirt in front of the memorial crosses — an image that was picked up by CNN.

This was the tipping point. Backed by Donahue's film crew and some media coverage, Young began touring as a veteran turned war protester. In October, he spoke at a Jackson County Democrats meeting in Independence. When the U.S. body count in Iraq reached 2,000, he gathered at a peace vigil at Barney Allis Plaza. A month later, Young, his new wife and his mom marched with throngs of protesters in front of the White House. In December, he attended a Vets4Vets conference in Miami. He spoke at the Lafayette Avenue Baptist church in Brooklyn, New York. On February 12, he landed on 60 Minutes. Young was surprised to see that he was the only dissident in a show about five veterans coping with their war injuries. He was also surprised when the network edited out his complaints about poor leadership. "It felt like a Trident chewing gum commercial," he says later. "It was like, 'Four out of five vets support war over peace.'"

Of his travels, perhaps the most important was in early November. That's when Young went to Kentucky to support his brother as he shipped out to Iraq.

On a recent Saturday night, Soden sauntered up to a pair of men threatening each other with pool cues in the back room of the Granfalloon sports bar on the Plaza. He wore a fleece jacket and a backward ball cap. His hair had grown long, and he'd sprouted an unruly red beard. As the club's hired muscle, he dressed more casually than the crowd of manicured men and primped party girls. "Easy," Soden barked at the would-be fighters. "Nobody wants any trouble."

Both pool players were tanked on Red Bull and vodka. They reluctantly agreed to go back to their game. Soden stuck his hand in his pockets and watched them. Suddenly, one of them surged toward his opponent. Soden stepped forward and put his hand on the man, blocking his way and pushing him backward toward a row of Golden Tee arcade games.

Calmly, Soden explained the situation: "You're being overly aggressive. That's why you are being kicked out." He pushed the guy through the bar and out to the street.

For Soden, the hardest part about recovery is having been sidelined from the action. At Fort Hood, he had spent nearly a year in a barracks filled with the injured. They were kept separate to keep the healthy troops from getting spooked. Unable to do physical training, he played video games, watched TV and gained 20 pounds.