News Accounts
EXHIBIT#00982
Seattle_pi_19991217
An Army whistle-blower's private war
Friday, December 17, 1999
By ED OFFLEY 
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER MILITARY REPORTER
When Army Dr. Stephen Whitlock Smith took over the emergency
room at the Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany six years ago, he found a facility in deep crisis. The U.S. military hospital's emergency room was suffering from acute staff shortages, aging equipment and
inadequate supplies -- so much so that Smith feared for the safety of patients and medical staff alike. "It was the scariest professional experience that any of us had ever thought we'd be involved in," Smith
said. Smith and his emergency room staff pleaded for more physicians and supplies.
Personnel were working up to 60 hours a week for prolonged periods. At one point, a psychiatric nurse was assigned to the
ER to monitor symptoms of suicidal behavior among staff members as a result of work-related stresses. After two years of fruitless requests, Smith took a harder approach: He filed an official
complaint against his Army superiors for failing to correct the problems. This
time, Smith saw immediate results. He was fired as head of the emergency room.
The hospital commander revoked his medical credentials. Smith was shipped 7,000 miles from his family to Madigan Army Medical
Center at Fort Lewis, where he was held in a psychiatric ward for three weeks without a hearing. Today, three years later, the 54-year-old lieutenant colonel remains at Fort Lewis, still engaged in guerrilla
warfare with the brass, still working in the uncertain twilight of a military medical career gone sour. And still, he says,
suffering illegal reprisals for his whistle-blowing. "This was done intentionally
to muffle me, destroy my career and family," said Smith, a soft-spoken but intense man. "I think they are trying to wear me
out and they don't care if my family is destroyed in the process." He is more
than $30,000 in debt from lawyers' bills. For the past two months, he has been living in a tent at a Fort Lewis recreational
campsite. What Smith wants now is vindication, the opportunity to retire early
from the Army, and to get a civilian medical license in Washington state. Army
officials won't talk about Smith's accusations, citing the privileged nature of most of the material involved, including Smith's
own medical records. An investigation into Smith's original complaint filed with
the inspector general at Landstuhl and a review of working conditions at Landstuhl by the Army's European Medical Command
found no evidence to support his allegations, officials said. But the Pentagon
acknowledges that the Defense Department is investigating allegations of mismanagement at Landstuhl, as well as Smith's complaints
of reprisals from officials there and at Madigan. Smith remains optimistic that
the investigation will clear his name and reputation. He sees his battle as a war of attrition, and so far, Smith says, "I
have survived."
An emergency room in crisis
Smith reported to the Landstuhl Regional Medical Center as chief of emergency
medical services in July 1993. It was his third stint as the head of an ER facility. He had the same job at a civilian hospital
in Rhode Island, then was ER chief at an Army hospital in Denver before the transfer to Germany. Smith and his family were excited about moving to Landstuhl. "We
enjoyed it for the day trips and weekend tours," Smith recalled. "It's the very best part of Europe to go touring from because
everything is so close, whether France or the Bavarian Alps or the rest of Germany."
But work quickly began to crowd out family life, Smith said. The medical
facility in southwest Germany is the trauma center for all U.S. military forces in Europe, including troops deployed to crisis
areas such as Somalia, Bosnia and Kosovo. It is open 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
Under Army policies, Smith's emergency room was supposed to have at least seven full-time certified ER physicians.
But during the summer of his arrival at Landstuhl, the number dropped to four when departing physicians were not replaced. In May 1994, Lt. Col. David Gillingham arrived at Landstuhl as the new chief of ambulatory
care and Smith's immediate superior. "I thought we would get along fine," said
Smith, who was assigned to be Gillingham's sponsor to help with his processing and moving needs. "I picked him up at the airport
and introduced him to the community." The cordiality vanished about a week later. Smith said Gillingham rejected his request for additional ER staffing even after being
told the physicians were being forced to work 50-60 hours per week, and Smith was forced to work 60-70 hours a week to cover
both ER shifts and his administrative duties. At a meeting to discuss the ER
staffing shortage, Gillingham's reaction stunned and angered Smith. "Gillingham
presided over the meeting and ordered me 'to work the ER doctors into the ground,'" Smith said. He quoted Gillingham as saying
of the young doctors, "They are cannon fodder and have to pay back (for) their training." The stress took a toll on everyone
working in the emergency room, including Smith. "I was marooned at work," Smith
said. "My family had to go on tours alone." Smith, who has battled clinical depression
for most of his life, said at one point he was hospitalized for nervous exhaustion.
"I don't dispute the fact that I became depressed as a result of the situation," he said. In July that year, the number of available ER physicians dropped from four to three after a junior physician
suffered a nervous breakdown, Smith said. Landstuhl officials eased the crisis by rotating other doctors into the ER for several
months. Smith's senior non-commissioned officer at Landstuhl, now-retired Sgt.
1st Class Stanley Gaines, said in an interview that hospital commanders refused to take steps to find qualified physicians
for the emergency room. He also said they attempted to pressure doctors to minimize medical care to non-military patients. "We didn't have the amount of staff to adequately take care of our patients," said
Gaines, who now lives in Tyler, Texas. "I don't know the real reason, but we weren't getting supported and people didn't care." By mid-1994, Landstuhl was treating more than 23,000 emergency cases a year -- an
average of 63 per day -- but receiving administrative credit for less than half that number, Smith said. Smith has accused Gillingham, his supervisor who also ran the hospital's family clinic, of diverting budget
money and staffing positions from the emergency room by falsely claiming that more than 11,000 of the ER cases had actually
been treated at the family clinic. Smith said this enabled Gillingham to obtain money and staffing support his facility otherwise
would not have received. "They were weak leaders and in a bad situation (with
overall budget cuts)," Smith said of his bosses. "They didn't mind endangering patients to advance their careers." That winter, Smith tried repeatedly to obtain support from his commanders to prevent another ER staffing
crisis in the summer months when many physicians on temporary assignment to Landstuhl normally returned to their home bases.
Smith said he was promised in February 1995 that the number of certified ER physicians would be kept at a minimum of five
-- still two below the Army minimum of seven.
Confrontation
In May and June 1995, two events occurred at Landstuhl that set Smith on a course
of confrontation with his senior officers. On May 8, Smith reported that the
beeper system for contacting on-call ER doctors had failed the day before at a time the emergency room experienced several
major trauma cases. "We couldn't call in the specialists we needed to save lives,"
Smith said. "In the spring, Germany is a beautiful place, and the specialists are going to be out . . . depending on their
beepers if there is an emergency." Smith requested an immediate replacement of
the system. It didn't happen. Instead, his superiors became angry with him for
pressing the issue, Smith said. Less than a month later, while on duty as an
ER physician, Gillingham treated a 17-year-old civilian, the son of an Army contract employee, who had suffered a head injury,
Smith said. Smith and Gaines say Gillingham sent the boy home with a written
diagnosis of abrasions even though the youth had sustained prolonged loss of consciousness, had a severe headache and had
no memory of the event. The next day, the youth was rushed back to Smith's emergency
room in a coma. Smith says the emergency room beeper system failed again and
the on-call neurosurgeon could not be located. In desperation, staff members rushed the unconscious patient to another medical
facility about 50 miles away for emergency brain surgery. The youth suffered
permanent brain damage as a result of the incident, according to the Hilton Head Island, S.C., Packet, the newspaper in the
young man's hometown. According to the newspaper, the boy's family last year
filed a $7.5 million claim against the Army, alleging malpractice. The Army judge advocate general's office ruled the hospital
had not acted improperly. The Army has final review of claims filed against the service's overseas facilities. After the office of Sen. Strom Thurmond, R-S.C., intervened, the family was offered a settlement, a spokeswoman
for Thurmond said. Details of the settlement were not released. Back in Germany,
things continued to get worse for Smith and his emergency room staff. In September 1995, NATO carried out a fierce air campaign
in Bosnia that paved the way for the deployment of 40,000 U.S. and NATO troops into Bosnia. Landstuhl was earmarked to handle
any seriously injured peacekeepers. In a memo to one of his supervisors, Col. Kevin Kiley, Smith said U.S. casualties would
overwhelm his emergency room. The dispute between Smith and his staff on one
side, and higher-ups at Landstuhl on the other, continued to simmer. On Feb. 12, 1996, Smith formally submitted his complaint
to the inspector general at Landstuhl accusing Kiley of tolerating violations of standards established by the Joint Commission
on Accreditation of Healthcare Organizations. The independent commission evaluates both civilian and military hospitals for
correct standards of practice and administration. Smith alleged hospital officials
were endangering patients by purposely understaffing the emergency room and that his requests for additional doctors were
repeatedly ignored. Two hours later, Kiley stripped Smith of his medical credentials
and ordered his immediate transfer to Madigan. Smith said different officials at Landstuhl told him different things. At first,
he believed he would remain at Madigan for a brief medical checkup before returning to Germany. Other Landstuhl officials
indicated Kiley had ordered a permanent transfer. "The paperwork was pretty confusing,
as well," Smith said. One assistant to Smith said the transfer was a reprisal. "It was done very viciously," said Gaines, the senior sergeant in Smith's emergency
room. "He (Smith) wasn't being supported by his superiors and made some calls they didn't like, so they struck out at him
instead of solving the problem." Smith packed his bags.
Incarcerated at Madigan
Twelve days after the confrontation with Kiley, Smith arrived for duty at Madigan
on Feb. 24, 1996, and to his shock was locked up in the hospital psychiatric wing. "They
handed me the pajamas that patients wear who are not allowed out, and they told me I had to hand over all of my possessions
except for my uniform," Smith recounted. "I was stunned." He has records from
his trip that indicate he stopped at Army Medical Command offices in Washington, D.C., en route to Madigan, where he met with
officials and conducted routine business. He said there was no indication on his travel orders that he was to be placed under
medical supervision or constraint. Smith was released from the Madigan psychiatric
unit in three weeks, and was surprised when Madigan's ER director invited him to join the ER staff. He had his medical credentials
restored in full after several weeks. "It was as if the whole episode had not even happened," Smith said. Smith said the incarceration violated numerous Army regulations because there was neither a formal hearing
or any written orders committing him to the secure ward. He believes Kiley made a telephone call to Madigan officials that
led to his incarceration. Madigan officials declined comment on any specifics
of Smith's complaints, including the hospitalization, but insisted that no patients are locked up without due process. "We don't confine people in a hospital as a rule," said Col. Jim Gilman, Madigan's
chief of medical staff and Smith's current superior. But when Smith continued
in the following months to press for Army and Pentagon investigations into Landstuhl, he said, officials at the Pierce County
facility began engaging in reprisals against him. In 1997, Smith said his medical
credentials were restricted again for a brief time after officials learned the independent newspaper Army Times was investigating
his case. And in September 1998, during a visit to Madigan by Dr. Sue Bailey, assistant secretary of defense for health affairs,
Smith said he was forcibly detained by a security guard and dragged out of the area when he approached Bailey, an acquaintance
from medical school. Smith filed a criminal complaint with the Fort Lewis criminal
investigative detachment as a result of the dragging incident. Several weeks later, he said, Maj. Gen. Mack Hill, commander
of Madigan Army Medical Center, again restricted his medical practice rights. Hill, like other Army officials, declined to
comment. Smith said this complaint has been in limbo for more than a year. In
March, the credentials committee at Madigan voted to restore his authority to practice medicine. He is currently fully active
in the hospital's adult primary care clinic.
The price of whistle-blowing
Married with two sons, one of whom still lives at home, Smith said the stresses
of the past year had become so great that he took his family therapist's suggestion and temporarily moved out of his home.
"We decided to separate until the stress of this business was less," Smith said. "I'm trying to protect her from all of this,"
he said of his wife, Virginia. Deeply in debt from legal expenses, Smith said
the only temporary housing he could afford was a tent staked at a campsite at North Fort Lewis, where Smith goes every day
at the end of his medical shift at Madigan. Smith said he finally decided to
request early retirement from the Army but his application remains bogged down in the bureaucracy. Smith also is at the mercy
of Madigan officials -- the same officials whom he said have engaged in reprisals against him -- to complete the routine paperwork
that would allow him to apply for his state medical license. Smith remains in
what he calls "suspended animation," waiting for the Army to respond to his retirement request. He wants to get on with his
life and work as an emergency room doctor in the civilian community. Smith looks
forward to rejoining his family. He visits them on weekends. Two of the three
Army officials Smith accuses of improper actions at Landstuhl remain on active duty.
Kiley, the former Landstuhl commander, is a two-star general serving as assistant Army surgeon general and deputy chief
of staff for force projection. He supervises all Army physicians. Kiley declined a request to be interviewed. An Army Medical Command spokeswoman said Kiley has recused himself from any personnel decisions involving
Smith. "He has declined to comment on this issue," said spokeswoman Cynthia Vaughan.
Gillingham, Smith's direct superior at Landstuhl, is now a student at the U.S. Army War College in Carlisle, Pa. He
also declined comment on Smith's allegations. Lipsi, the former deputy commander
for clinical support at Landstuhl, has retired from the Army and could not be located for comment. P-I reporter Ed Offley can be reached at 206-448-8179 or edoffley@seattle-pi.com
EXHIBIT#00983
Ranger_19991230
Dr. Smith’s War: Madigan Physician Alleges Reprisals for Whistle-blowing
J. M. Simpson of the FORT LEWIS RANGER December 30, 1999
In February
of 1996, Dr. Stephen Smith became a whistleblower; As a result, his life has changed.
An intense
man with an affection for technology, Smith was assigned to the emergency room at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, Germany.
While there, the lieutenant colonel complained to the inspector general that his superior, COL Kevin Kiley, tolerated the
violation of standards established by the Joint Commission on Accreditation of Healthcare Organizations. The commission is
an independent body that evaluates civilian and military hospitals for correct standards of practice and administration.
Smith complained
that hospital officials were deliberately understaffing the emergency room, ignoring his requests for more doctors, and thereby
endangering both the staff and patients.
"I filed
the complaint because of the lack of due process in championing the welfare of patients and staff in Germany," Smith said.
Within hours
of filing the complaint, Kiley stripped Smith of his medical credentials and ordered his immediate transfer to Madigan Army
Medical Center.
When Smith
arrived at Madigan on February 24, 1996, he was locked up in the hospital's psychiatric wing. Three weeks later, he was released
and asked to join the hospital's emergency room staff.
Smith contends
that his incarceration in the psychiatric wing violated Army regulations. He
points out that there was no formal hearing and no written orders placing him in the secure unit.
"It was all
done as a cover-up for Kiley," Smith said. Kiley, the former Landstuhl commander,
is now a major general serving as assistant Army surgeon general and deputy chief of staff for force projection.
In a recent
interview with the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, COL James Gilman, deputy commander for clinical services at Madigan and Smith's
current superior, was asked about Smith's incarceration. "We don't confine people in a hospital as a rule," he said.
But when
Smith continued to press Army and Pentagon officials about his allegations concerning Landstuhl, he contends that his superiors
began to take reprisals against him.
Smith states
that in March of 1997 he was "forced" to take a psychometric test. He believes the test was used as means to get back at him.
"MAMC command
said the test results were abnormal and that they allow it to place me under supervision," Smith said. "I saw those scores;
they are normal." Smith also went on to say that data from his medical records is missing and that the results of the psychometric
test are part of the missing data. Smith also contends that data from his medical files vanished only after Gilman took over
as deputy commander earlier this year.
"All of this
stuff vanished when Gilman took over," Smith stated. "Things have been in a free fall, with no one in charge."
Madigan officials
declined to comment on any aspect about the test.
Smith says
his medical credentials were renewed on April 15, 1997, but that the following day they were revoked. On April 17 a meeting
was held; Smith was placed under the supervision of COL Les Rice, chief of the department of medicine, and his credentials
were restored.
Smith alleges
that his credentials were pulled because hospital officials learned that the independent newspaper Army Times was investigating
his whistle-blowing activities.
In December
1998, Smith said that Brigadier General Mack Hill, MAMC commander, suspended his medical credentials. "I didn't see any patients
for eight and a half months," Smith said.
He did, however,
see a psychiatrist.
On May 10,
1999, Smith was evaluated by Dr. David Dunner, Assistant Chief of Psychiatry at the University Of Washington. According to
Smith, he does not know why he was sent to the evaluation; however, he believes his credentials' committee, which is chaired
by Gilman, arranged the evaluation and that Hill ordered the evaluation.
Madigan officials
deny that Hill and Gilman had anything to do with the evaluation. Moreover, hospital public affairs personnel stated that
Gilman arrived at Madigan after Smith saw Dunner. Gilman, however, arrived in April 1999.
According
to Smith, it is at this point that data from his medical records turned up missing.
"Some crucial
medical records turned up missing. They are my psychiatric clinical records, my psychology clinical records, and my psychometric
test results," Smith said.
As for the
psychiatric evaluation conducted by Dunner, Smith contends that his test results show him to be "well-grounded."
"Dr. Smith
had proven that he has done good clinical work; that he is in remission from major clinical depression; and that he receive
his credentials and be put back to work," Smith said of Dunner's report. "Dr. Dunner also added that Madigan might not be
the best place to stay because of the perception of reprisals," Smith added.
Smith does
not deny that he has suffered from depression. "I've been up front about it since coming to medical school on an Army medical
school scholarship," he said.
Married with
two sons, one of whom lives at home, Smith said that the stresses of the past year had become so great that he took his family
therapist’s suggestion and temporarily moved out of his home.
"I did not
want to bring undue stress to my wife," he said. Smith does, however, see family members regularly.
Smith is
more than $30,000 in debt from legal bills; he has used some of the money set aside for his children's college to pay some
costs. He allots himself $500 per month on which to live. Since he could not afford separate housing, he has lived in a tent
for the past two and a half months at a campground on North Fort Lewis.
"What's been
done to me has been to destroy me and my family," Smith said.
Hoping to
continue his career in the civilian community, Smith requested early retirement from the Army in July 1999 and that Madigan
officials complete the paperwork that would allow him to apply for his state medical license. In his request, Smith asked
that the full restoration of his credentials be a part of his retirement papers.
"That would
be rare," said a source who requested anonymity. "If the Army did that, it would set a precedent, and that is unlikely to
happen. But I will tell you this, there are people there out to squash him."
Smith says
his request for early retirement was denied on December 16, 1999. Mike Meines, public affairs officer for Madigan, says he
has not seen an official denial for the retirement request.
In the meantime,
Smith will witness the new millennium in a tent on Fort Lewis, waiting for an answer.
Armytimes_19990215
Extract, Army Times 15 Feb 1999
www.armytimes.com
Newslines-The Army
Fit for duty?
Army says he's mentally ill: doctor, a whistleblower, says it's
a case of retribution
By Karen Jowers Times Staff Writer
Lt. Col. Stephen Whitlock
is living a nightmare. An Army doctor for 15 years, he faces a hearing Feb. 10 on whether his medical credentials should be
revoked. He has been held in confinement for psychiatric evaluation, removed forcibly from contact with top military medical
officials and branded as behaving in a 'bizarre' manner. To Smith, 51, it's a case of retribution. He says his troubles started
when he blew the whistle on understaffing at an Army hospital in Germany two years ago. To the Army, it's a simple matter
of whether Smith is fit for duty. Officials at Madigan Army Medical Center, Fort Lewis, Wash., aren't saying much about the
case because it's under investigation. But documents obtained by Army Times point to allegations of inadequate record keeping
and concerns that Smith may be experiencing 'paranoid delusions.' Whichever side is right, Smith's story is a case study of
how an individual can get tangled up in a web of bureaucratic, legal, and medical confusion that can threaten both a military
career and a future civilian one, as well. A former Army investigator describes Smith's case as a classic example of what
can happen to whistleblowers. 'They pay a heavy price,' he said. 'They get so angry, so frustrated, so depressed. They think
it's the whole Army against them. And they're right,' said Jeff Lynch, who retired in 1991 as a Colonel in the Medical Service
Corps. In his last two assignments, he worked as an inspector general. He has seen medical officers thrown into psychiatric
wards and face hearings to remove their credentials, he said. Although he hasn't investigated Smith's case, he has reviewed
it. 'I don't think that they would know Smith was on the planet if he weren't
a whistleblower,' Lynch said. He describes Smith as 'courageous and tenacious.'
From medical chief to patient
Smith's story is a long
and complicated one, beginning when he was chief of emergency medical services at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany
from July 1993 through early 1996. The joint Army-Air Force medical facility is the only military hospital in central Europe,
with doctors and patients from all services. In February 1996 he alleged hospital
officials were purposely understaffing the emergency room, putting patients and staff at risk, despite his repeated requests
for more assistance. That's when Smith's world began to fall apart. Eight days
after filing a formal complaint with the hospital inspector general, Smith was medically evacuated for a psychiatric evaluation.
Sent to Madigan, he spent three weeks in a locked psychiatric ward. Then, he was allowed to slowly return to medical practice,
but at Madigan, not Landstuhl. However, he has not been allowed to return full time to his specialty, emergency medicine.
Still concerned about his original complaint, Smith pressed on, this time with the Army inspector general. That complaint,
lodged in October 1996 is still being investigated, Army officials say. Meanwhile, Army officials ordered an investigation
by European Regional Medical
Command officials, too.
And when those investigators began interviewing people in the case last fall, reprisals began, Smith contends. On Nov. 9,
1998, Smith was ordered to stop seeing patients and told to move out of his office at Madigan. He refused to leave his office,
but with his medical privileges temporarily suspended, he has ceased seeing patients. 'This is a cover-up of events that transpired
to hurt patients,' Smith said. 'They're trying to get me out of here.'
'Paranoid' or not
Such statements play
into the Army's case that Smith has 'paranoid delusions.' But Smith's psychiatrist disagrees.
'There's no reason to
believe he can't function fully as a physician,' said Dr. Deborah Hickey, a retired Army colonel and Smith's psychiatrist
since early 1996. 'He's very logical in his thinking and very bright.' Hickey,
who was chief of psychiatry at Madigan for two years before she retired in 1996, shoots holes in the Army's charges, which
include allegations that Smith's record keeping was incomplete, that he did not sufficiently document his actions and treatments
on patients' records. Those allegations seem to be an overreaction,' Hickey said. 'The
information was there, but not in the format they wanted. 'In his case, they
found his records to be lacking in the format desired and have used that to steamroll him without due process or the opportunity
to bring them up to standards,' Hickey said.
THE ARMY'S SIDE
Cynthia Vaughan, spokeswoman
for the Army Medical Command, said the Army has little to say right now, since the investigations aren't complete. 'Some investigations
are still ongoing, but in the parts of the investigations that have been completed, there has been no evidence of wrongdoing'
by the Army, she said. Brig. Gen. Kevin C. Kiley, commander of Landstuhl Regional
Medical Center during the time of Smith's complaint, declined to be interviewed. He is now an assistant surgeon general. Madigan's credentials committee began reviewing Smith's case in October, based on
allegations that he had not kept his patients' records up to date, Smith said. He
contends he keeps his records in his computer and has been lax in transferring them to the printed form. 'And I did get depressed
and slowed down,' he said. 'Intimidation works.' Hospital officials also expressed concern last fall about Smith's psychiatric
condition. On Nov. 20, 1998, Lt. Col. Frederic Johnstone, Chairman of the Madigan
Provider Health Program, wrote to Smith's psychiatrist, Hickey, asking if there had been an 'acute change' in Smith's mental
status. 'I am concerned that he may be currently experiencing paranoid delusion,'
Johnstone wrote. 'I am concerned that his underlying psychiatric condition may be more severe than we suspected. We have had
multiple reports of fairly bizarre behavior.'
Hickey didn't respond.
'I felt the whole thing was totally irregular,' she said. 'They haven't gone by any procedure I've seen in reviewing the competency
of a health care provider.' Hickey said 'there has been no set policy or procedure
for dealing with Dr. Smith. All of the allegations have come from those who are not professionals in the area of mental health.' Smith said there have been other incidents that show he is the victim of reprisal.
He filed a complaint alleging he was harassed Sept. 1, during a visit to Madigan by Dr. Sue Bailey, assistant secretary o
defense for health affairs. He said he spoke to Bailey, an ex-medical school classmate, for about 3 minutes. Shortly afterward,
a Madigan official confronted him angrily. 'There were witnesses that he ordered my arrest after seeing me talk to Dr. Bailey,'
A security officer approached him, took him to another room, and said that he had been accused of carrying a gun, Smith said.
He then forced Smith to return to his duty area. Smith alleges that the security officer forced him to walk to the escalator,
holding his arm behind his back. 'He pushed me down the escalator,'
Smith said. 'It's clearly
not something the security person did on his own.' But Sharon Ayala, spokeswoman
for Madigan Army Medical Center, dismissed those claims. 'He was not arrested, not handcuffed, detained, nothing,' she said.
'He was just escorted from the Command suite. We were ready to move (Dr Bailey) from one briefing room to the next, and Dr.
Smith was not part of the group. He was not invited.'
'NO CONNECTION'
Ayala said there's 'no
truth' to Smith's allegations that the review of his credentials is connected to any complaints he has filed. 'Madigan is
committed to upholding the regulations against reprisal,' Ayala said. Smith admits he has had a history of depression, dating
back to the time he was 18 years old. The Army admitted him into its medical scholarship program with full knowledge of his
medical history. His depression grew worse at Landstuhl, he said, as a result of the grueling hours and poor working conditions.
Although he and others repeatedly asked for assistance, it was denied, he said. Other medical professionals who worked in
the emergency room at Landstuhl support that contention. 'We were very much understaffed
and were very proactive about saying what we needed,' said one military nurse. 'We
had three doctors and Steve (Smith) to work a 24-hour-a-day schedule. 'At the
end, we felt no one would pay attention until we killed somebody...Anything we tried to do to fix the problem, was stopped,'
the nurse said. 'Steve would do anything for us. He did his best, but in the end, it broke him. It was awful to see what they
did to him. 'I've never seen anything like it,' she said. In late 1995, Smith's
supervisors were replaced, she said, and the emergency room was put 'on track. But why did they allow the situation to continue
for two years?' The answer to that question remains elusive, subject to the Army's ongoing investigation. The answer to what
will become of Smith, however, should come sooner-perhaps directly after his Feb. 10 board appearance.
(PHOTOGRAPH CAPTION:
'Dr. Stephen W. Smith blew the whistle on understaffing at an Army hospital. Now
The Army wants to revoke his medical credentials.’)
EXHIBIT#00984
Armytimes_19990719
Extract from Army Times 19 July 1999
See www.armytimes.com
Newslines: The Army
Doc: Whistle blowing cost him medical privileges
By Karen Jowers Times Staff Writer
A doctor has accused
officials at Madigan Army Medical Center at Fort Lewis, Wash., of withholding his medical privileges as retribution for his
whistle-blowing activities, and he is calling for an investigation. Meanwhile, Army Lt Col Stephen Whitlock Smith, 51, has
asked permission to retire from the Army, with restoration of his medical credentials. In March, the medical credentials committee
held a hearing on whether to restore or permanently pull Smith's medical privileges, which had been revoked for alleged lax
record keeping. He was told the committee recommended his credentials be restored, but no action has been taken. On April
2, he agreed to a psychiatric evaluation, which he submitted to, and to resume practicing medicine under supervision. The
evaluation cleared him to work, his credentials are still being held. Smith has asked for retirement and has been told he
can leave by Sept. 1. But that offer hasn't addressed his credentials. 'My credentials are more important to me than retirement,'
he said. They affect his livelihood, and he said he won't retire without them. Sharon
Ayala, spokeswoman for Madigan, said that, to protect the privacy of all involved, she couldn't comment on the credentials
issue. However, she said, 'All of the proper protocols were adhered to in the case of Dr. Smith.' Smith's problems began in February 1996 when he filed a complaint with the inspector general at Landstuhl
Army Medical Center, alleging hospital officials were endangering patients by purposefully understaffing the emergency room.
Smith, who was chief of emergency medical services at the time, said his repeated requests for assistance were ignored. Eight days later, he was medically evacuated to Madigan for psychiatric evaluation
and spent three weeks in a locked psychiatric ward. He was allowed to slowly return to medical practice at Madigan but continued
to press for investigations of Landstuhl. He believes his credentials problem began after the Army launched a probe in 1998
and is the result of close ties between some Madigan doctors and the former Landstuhl officials mentioned in his allegations.
Smith was told his credentials were pulled because he had not kept his records up to date. In an earlier interview with the
Army Times, Smith's psychiatrist, Dr. Deborah Hickey, said she believed Madigan officials overreacted. 'The information was
there, but just not in the format they wanted,' she said. There was no reason to believe Smith couldn't function fully as
a physician, she said. Smith has asked for investigations of Madigan by the Army surgeon general, the assistant secretary
of defense for health affairs, the Defense Department
inspector general, and
a national organization responsible for accreditation of
military hospitals.
EXHIBIT#00985
Islandpacket_19980728
(Excerpt from HILTON HEAD ISLAND PACKET, McClatchy Company)
See WWW.islandpacket.com
Header: Category: Local News, Creator: Mike Ramsey, Paper Date: 7/28/98,
Paper Page/Section: 1A, End of Header.
BY MIKE RAMSEY Packet staff writer
Bobby Wood was an experienced
off-road cyclist, an "A" student and computer whiz when a bicycle wreck three years ago sent him into a coma and changed his
life. Wood, now 20 and living on Hilton Head Island, still rides his bike every day and has been taking design courses at
Savannah College of Art and Design. But itıs not the life he planned. He suffered brain damage, as well as loss of vision
and some mobility, and he canceled his plans to attend Rochester University on a $32,000 scholarship. Worse, Wood and his
family contend the damage might have been prevented had he received proper care at a U.S. military hospital in Germany, where
Wood was living when the accident happened. "Iım angry, but what can I do?" Wood said. "They know they have done something
wrong, but wonıt do anything about it." Wood has filed a claim against the U.S. Army for malpractice, but he and his family
arenıt optimistic. The Armyıs Office of the Judge Advocate General in March turned down Woodıs initial claim for $7.5 million.
Woodıs attorney filed an appeal and the results of the appeal should be back in a few weeks. If the appeal is denied, Wood
has no recourse, said Pamela Brem, an attorney working for Wood. The case has attracted the attention of U.S. Sen. Strom Thurmond,
R-S.C., chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee. Thurmond has ordered an inquiry into whether the Armyıs review of
the case was thorough and above-board. John De Crosta, Thurmondıs press secretary,
said it probably would take several months before any investigation results would be available. Wood was 17 years old in June
1995 when he fell off his bike and hit his head. He knows he was knocked unconscious, but does not know for how long. Wood's
mother, Nohy Wood, took him to the closest hospital, Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, a military hospital. It was a holiday weekend in Germany, and no local doctors were available, she said. Landstuhlıs emergency-room
doctor sent Wood home after treating him for scrapes and bruises, according to Woodıs claim. The doctor didnıt admit Wood
for observation or perform a CT scan. The next day, Wood started bleeding inside
his skull, cutting off oxygen to his brain, according to the claim. When Woodıs parents took him back to the hospital, there
was no neurosurgeon at the hospital to perform surgery. Wood had to be taken to another hospital, delaying surgery by 70 minutes,
the claim states. He stayed in a coma for two weeks and suffered brain damage. Wood
maintains that the emergency room doctor the first day should have admitted him to the hospital for observation and performed
a CT scan. That would be standard procedure for anyone who lost consciousness for more than 30 seconds. Legal hurdles, i.e. Woodıs legal battle with the Army is made even more difficult because claims against
the military are handled differently than other types of civil claims. Brem said a division of the Army, called the Office
of the Inspector General, investigates claims against the Army. In addition,
Army officers investigate and decide the claims. If they deny a claim, a victim can appeal the decision to federal court and
go before an independent judge and jury. But if the incident occurs overseas, the process stops with the Army. "Itıs a good faith system," Brem said. "Potentially, the Army could come back and say, Yes, we were negligent,
but we still arenıt going to award you damages." Another lawyer working on Woodıs case, Richard Weiss of Boston, said he may
file a lawsuit in federal court accusing the Army investigators of "not acting in good faith." He said facts had been ignored
or unaddressed in the Armyıs denial. "Self-regulation doesnıt work on any level," Brem said. "One of the reasons doctors here
work so hard to maintain high standards is the fear of malpractice. Doctors at the (military) hospitals overseas donıt worry
because they know people canıt touch them." The lawsuit could end up in the U.S. Supreme Court, Brem said. Similar lawsuits,
which attack the law governing this case have been challenged, but upheld by the Supreme Court. Dr. Stephen Smith, the former
emergency room chief who saw Wood on his second visit to the hospital, has filed a series of complaints against the leadership
at Landstuhl, citing Woodıs treatment as one example of a number of problems. Despite
what Brem calls "extremely substantial" evidence supporting Woodıs claim, neither she nor Weiss are optimistic about winning
the appeal. Weiss claimed in the appeal that the Army investigator, Maj. Douglas Dribben, "misstated or distorted facts" in
the case. Neither Dribben nor any other official in the Army Claims Service could be reached for comment. In turning down the claim, the Army investigators said his parents should have brought him back to the
hospital earlier, when Wood experienced shooting pain in his head. And the denial states that a CT scan the first day would
not have revealed the bleeding in Woodıs head because it didnıt start until the next day. But Smith said that wasnıt necessarily
true, and the doctor should have held the boy overnight anyway for observation because Wood had lost consciousness during
the fall.
EXHIBIT#00986
<BR style="mso-ignore: vglayout" clear="a
