Three Words for a Missouri Hero

In my town halls around Missouri, it’s pretty clear what folks think of Washington, D.C.

Nothing gets done. It’s just partisan gridlock. Democrats and Republicans can’t work together. And it’s regular people back home who are paying the price. Too often, it’s true. And that reality is one of the disheartening things about the state of Congress.

But sometimes, you fight hard enough and long enough, and get enough allies along the way, that you get a breakthrough.

That’s what happened this month. It won’t make national headlines, since it’s not a scandal or partisan food fight. But this week, after a two-year effort, I passed into law a bill to provide relief—and recognition—to a true American hero right here in Missouri.

That hero is Mr. Arla Harrell, who lives in Macon, Missouri. He was one of 60,000 U.S. servicemen during World War II who was forced to participate in experiments in which he was intentionally exposed to mustard gas. Since the testing at Camp Crowder in Missouri, Arla has suffered from multiple chronic ailments, including several linked to his mustard gas exposure.

But because the experiments were highly classified, he was forced to take an oath of secrecy that prevented him from discussing his experience with his family, or even his doctor. Even after the oath of secrecy was lifted in the 1990s, the Department of Veterans Affairs has denied more than 90 percent of mustard gas claims from these veterans, and only 40 veterans are currently receiving any benefits due to their exposure.

Two years ago, when I first heard about this, it made me think of my dad—who also served in World War II—and how furious I’d be if he was treated this way.

When a Missouri veteran is mistreated, I take it personally, and I’ll take the fight to anyone, anywhere, to make it right.

So I launched an investigation—and when I uncovered the details, I immediately got to work.

Inspired by Arla—and with the help of his loving and determined family—my staff and I battled a decades-long run of ineptitude and failure at the VA. I enlisted my friend, Republican Senator Johnny Isakson of Georgia, who is Chairman of the Senate’s Veterans Affairs Committee. I worked with Republican Congresswoman Jackie Walorski of Indiana, who introduced companion legislation in the U.S. House. We rallied support from veterans service organizations like the Veterans of Foreign Wars, and the American Legion.

And I button-holed President Trump’s VA Secretary, David Shulkin, often enough that he eventually overruled his agency’s opposition to my bill, and pledged his personal support to our cause.

This month, I passed my bipartisan Arla Harrell Act as part of a larger veterans bill, and now the bill is on its way to President Trump for his signature into law. Once signed, it will require a re-examination of Arla’s benefits claim, and will include Camp Crowder on the list of sites where exposure occurred. It will mandate a quick review of all previously denied claims. And importantly, it will place the burden on the VA—instead of the veterans—to prove or disprove such exposure.

After all these years, it’s less about the benefits that Arla deserves, and will now receive—it’s about recognizing what he sacrificed for this country, and that he and his family deserve to hear three simple words from their government.

We believe you.

Thank you, Arla Harrell. For all you’ve sacrificed.

Claire McCaskill is the daughter of a World War II veteran, and a senior member of the U.S. Senate Armed Services Committee. She is Missouri’s senior Senator, and the author of the Arla Harrell Act.