Stolen valor. It’s a term that has become almost synonymous with the post-9/11 world. Fraudsters, imposters, and a wide array of attention seekers eagerly tell their stories to an adoring public, weaving tales of courage and selflessness, often intertwined with tears intended to draw listeners to the plight of their misfortunes. The stories are captivating, often heart-wrenching, and always elicit an emotional response.
The public is always a sucker for a good war story, and these people are masters at their craft. To the average civilian, they’re larger than life characters, heroes who have sacrificed in unimaginable ways. To those who have worn the uniform, they’re often mistaken for true brothers- and sisters-in-arms in need of a shoulder, evoking the sentiments of the Bill Withers classic, “Lean on Me.” People just want to lend a helping hand, and the stolen valor crowd is more than willing to lie, cheat, or steal their way to financial or material gain.
THE GRIFTERS
In their 1998 book, Stolen Valor: How the Vietnam Generation was Robbed of Its Heroes and Its History, authors B.G. Burkett and Glenna Whitley laid bare the claims of the post-Vietnam stolen valor generation, in the process invoking the now-ubiquitous term. Burkett, himself a veteran of the Vietnam War, was appalled by those who falsely claimed veteran status and masterfully leveraged the FOIA process to expose them. Public gullibility – never in short supply – was much to blame, and the media was often so eager to lionize a veteran that fact-checking their stories delayed a good public interest story.
For most of us, encounters with perpetrators of stolen valor are annoying and often frustrating, but rarely serious. Someone buys an old field jacket at an army surplus store and trots into Applebee’s for a discount on Veterans Day. Someone in a borrowed uniform tries to get priority boarding status at the airport. Or someone claims veteran status in hopes of getting 10% off at Home Depot.
Every so often, we find more serious cases. Ones where public situations can shine the spotlight on military records – and rightfully so. Over the years, some have found the need to wildly exaggerate their time in service or to make unsubstantiated claims – all in an effort to gain sympathy, attention, or money.
Then there are cases like Sarah Cavanaugh’s, which recently thrust the issue of stolen valor back into the national spotlight. Cavanaugh, a wounded Marine Corps veteran and commander of the VFW post in North Kingstown, Rhode Island, was forced to resign after she was revealed to be neither combat wounded nor a veteran of any service. Using a forged DD-214 and a tragic story that ripped at the heart strings, she had parlayed her fraud into a staff position at a VA hospital, financial support from a number of non-profits, and the leadership of a respected veteran service organization. Shortly after resigning, her home was the subject of a raid by federal agents and a viral YouTube video by Angry Cops – well worth the seventeen minutes of watch time.
THE VICTIMS
Despite claims to the contrary, stolen valor is not a victimless crime. When the Stolen Valor Act of 2005 was struck down, the decision was based on the opinion that the law as written focused on punishing liars for simply lying, which in and of itself is protected by the First Amendment. That flaw led to the Stolen Valor Act of 2013, which recast the focus of the law on the attempt to gain financially from those lies. The National Archives even expanded access to research resources to assist federal and local law enforcement agencies contending with the plague of fraud surrounding stolen valor. But stolen valor is still a crime that goes largely unpunished, and that needs to stop.
It’s no longer just about a Veterans Day meal discount or a better seat on a plane, it’s robbing resources – often in the form of much-needed assistance – intended for those who have actually served and sacrificed for their country. A little stolen valor might get someone a house, a car, or a job. It can be leveraged to gain a federal contract or preferential consideration for a business partnership. Stolen valor can be translated into veterans’ benefits, disability payments, and other forms of aid. During the pandemic, stolen valor cases exploded as fraudsters sought to obtain benefits and loans, oftentimes using stolen veteran identities to further their efforts.
In every case, those benefits were intended for an actual veteran who was ultimately denied access to needed – and deserved – assistance. So, when you see a viral video featuring an especially angry veteran going off on a seemingly harmless poser like Sarah Cavanaugh, take a moment to recognize that this is far more serious than some clown trying to score a discounted meal on Veterans Day. When you see someone stealing valor, there’s a victim somewhere. Next time, it might be you.
