Growing Doubts On Vaccine In Military
Some Refuse, Citing Lack of Iraqi Anthrax

By Marilyn W. Thompson
Washington Post Staff Writer
Saturday, March 27, 2004; Page A01

http://www.washingtonpost.com/ac2/wp-dyn/A28133-2004Mar26?language=printer

With each report on the absence of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq,
Airman Jessica Horjus asked a question: If inspectors could find no signs of
anthrax, why should the Pentagon risk her health by requiring her to get
the anthrax
vaccine?

"I have a kid to take care of," said Horjus, 23, the mother of a 2-year-old,
who lives with her daughter in military housing at Seymour Johnson Air Force
Base in Goldsboro, N.C. "The Air Force can always fill my slot with someone
else, but who's going to fill the mommy slot?"

When a January order came for Horjus to get the vaccine before deploying to a
Kuwait air base about 30 miles from Iraq, the soldier with commendations and
Good Conduct Medals declined. Her commander demoted her and cut her pay in
half, to less than $800 a month. In February, she declined a second and third
order.

Horjus is one of a number of soldiers who cite the lack of anthrax in Iraq as
a reason behind their stance against the mandatory anthrax vaccine. As the
Pentagon moves thousands of troops into Iraq as part of a huge rotation of
forces, soldiers, citizen groups and members of Congress are increasingly
calling
upon defense officials to stop the vaccinations.

Sen. Jeff Bingaman (D-N.M.) sent a letter last week to Defense Secretary
Donald H. Rumsfeld asking him to reevaluate the mandatory policy in light of
events in Iraq. "The apparent absence of an Iraqi biological warfare
capability
raises serious questions about the threat of an anthrax attack against our
troops," Bingaman wrote. "The use of a vaccination which appears to have the
potential for serious health consequences for our troops in an effort to
counter a
threat that may not exist seems to unnecessarily expose our troops to risk."

The Pentagon now requires inoculation for any soldier about to deploy for
more than 15 days to what it defines as a "high-risk" area for anthrax
attack.
Concerned about reports of illnesses and a death last year that officials
linked
to the vaccine, soldiers headed to Iraq, Afghanistan and elsewhere are asking
more questions about the program's rationale.

"There is no evidence that stockpiles of anthrax exist in Iraq or with Al
Qaeda in Afghanistan or elsewhere," Horjus wrote in a memo to the base's
appellate authority. "As a single mother, I cannot afford to unnecessarily
risk my
long-term health on a highly-reactive vaccine that supposedly protects
against a
threat that cannot be found."

After four years of service, the young mother last week accepted the Air
Force's offer of an other-than-honorable discharge and prepared to return
home to
Yorktown, Va.

Vaccine opponents say they are tracking dozens of cases of soldiers who are
refusing the vaccine. The demand for troops is so high that unvaccinated
soldiers may find themselves deployed nonetheless. Some are on duty in and
near Iraq
and are closely monitoring the frustrated hunt for banned weapons, knowing
they will face punishment for disobeying orders when they return.

Pentagon officials insist that refusals are extremely rare and that the
unsuccessful search for the weapons has not changed their thinking about
the merits
of the mandatory vaccine. The anthrax threat, they say, is not a distant risk
but was underscored by the 2001 domestic letter mailings that killed five
people and left thousands vulnerable to grave illness or death.

"The lethal anthrax attacks of the fall of 2001 did not need a sophisticated
delivery system," Defense Department spokesman Jim Turner said in an e-mail
response to questions. "We vaccinate our people to keep them healthy."

Vaccine opponents have become increasingly organized and vocal about the
health risks of the AVA vaccine, a product that has accumulated thousands of
reports of adverse reactions ranging from headaches and vomiting to severe
autoimmune and neurological problems. Opponents are using the courts to
press the
health issues and lobbying Congress to give relief to soldiers whose
careers ended
abruptly over their refusals to line up for shots.

"When troops find out that any one portion of what they've been told is a
lie, they question the rest of it," said Kathryn Hubbell, who helped set up a
nonprofit group, the Military Vaccine Education Center, to work with
soldiers. It
is also organizing a political action committee to raise money for its
lobbying efforts.

Among the hotly contested issues is the Pentagon's accounting of the number
of soldiers who have been "separated" from the services for refusing to take
the required six-shot regimen. Congress was so concerned about the issue in
the
program's early years, when hundreds of soldiers resigned the military rather
than be vaccinated, that it began requiring the Defense Department to report
annually the number of soldier separations.

The department's reports for 2001 and 2002 show only three separations, and
numbers for 2003 are due this spring. Vaccine opposition leader John
Richardson, a retired Air Force Reserve lieutenant colonel, calls the
Pentagon numbers a
"willful misrepresentation" used to encourage good order and discipline. He
says the Pentagon uses the strictest interpretation of the data, failing to
count cases such as Horjus's that did not result in court-martial and forced
removal from the military. Since the vaccine program began, about 100
active-duty
soldiers have been court-martialed for refusing the vaccine, according to
congressional testimony and documents.

Victims' advocates say they have become aware of 45 cases involving vaccine
refusers since 2002. These soldiers find themselves subjected to a wide range
of punishments.

"We've seen everything from quiet discharge to court-martial to imprisonment
with 60 to 90 days in the brig," said Randi Airola, a victims' advocate who
left the Michigan Air National Guard in 1999 because of her own vaccine
refusal.
"We've seen soldiers threatened with two to three to 10 years in prison when,
in the military, even rape or drug charges may not get you 10 years in
prison. The punishment is based solely on the discretion of the individual
commander
-- and some want to use a sledgehammer to get people to comply."

Airola recently gave a congressional committee 32 pages of e-mails sent to
her by soldiers who believe they have been made sick by the shots or are
refusing to be vaccinated.

"In light of these problems," she wrote, and the absence of weaponized
anthrax spores in Iraq or Afghanistan, "it is unacceptable for Congress to
continue
to follow the line that the vaccine is safe, effective and good enough for
our
troops and to jail those who refuse."

A key question in the vaccine debate is the safety of AVA, a product that has
been used since the 1950s to inoculate textile workers and laboratory
personnel at high risk of anthrax exposure. The vaccine was licensed by
federal
regulators without being tested in large-scale human clinical trials. But the
Pentagon points to a 2002 report from the Institute of Medicine declaring the
vaccine safe and effective.

The vaccine, made by BioPort Inc. of Lansing, Mich., is now under attack in
three separate federal lawsuits brought by affected soldiers.

In U.S. District Court in Washington, Judge Emmet G. Sullivan issued a
preliminary injunction late last year that caused the Pentagon to briefly
halt
vaccinations. The program resumed after the Food and Drug Administration
offered
assurances in February that the vaccine was safe. The case, brought on
behalf of
six anonymous servicemen who believe they were made ill by the vaccine and
for all of those "similarly situated," is set for oral arguments in May.

Two federal judges have suggested that the military will be held accountable
if it is using soldiers to test an investigational drug without their
informed
consent. Pentagon officials seemed poised to stop the program before the
Sept. 11, 2001, attacks gave it a reprieve. In December, the Pentagon
agreed to
buy an additional 245 million doses of BioPort's vaccine.

The Defense Department and other federal agencies have worked to find a new
anthrax vaccine that will produce fewer side effects.

Horjus said her decision to refuse the BioPort vaccine was based largely on
research and observation. Her estranged husband took the shots before
deploying
to Saudi Arabia and became ill with a fever and lung congestion. She said she
read everything she could about the vaccine, doing what the military expects
a good soldier to do -- "use your head."

Horjus said she became convinced that the BioPort vaccine was unsafe and
experimental, its effects on women of childbearing age unknown. She and
others
were upset by a case that drew wide attention in November, when a coroner
ruled
that "post-vaccine" problems may have contributed to the death of Army Spec.
Rachel Lacy.

Army Lt. Gen. James B. Peake of the U.S. Army Medical Command sent a memo to
commanders in February mentioning Lacy's death and telling them to be alert
for adverse reactions. "The overwhelming majority of immunizations are
followed
by mild symptoms. . . . Unfortunately, the U.S. Army lost a valuable soldier
in April, 2003, a month after receiving five vaccinations during
mobilization,"
Peake wrote. "Although the evidence was inconclusive, medical experts
determined that vaccination may have contributed to her death."

Adding to Horjus's concern were reports of two airmen at Seymour Johnson who
became seriously ill after receiving the shots.

One solider said in an interview she has suffered lightheadedness, night
sweats and "grayouts" since receiving three of the six required shots. She
asked
that her name not be used because of fears that it could hurt her effort to
receive specialized treatment at a Walter Reed Army Medical Center vaccine
clinic.

"Before these shots, I was a normal, healthy 20-year-old," she said. "So far,
I've dodged the fourth shot, but if they try to make me take it, I'll be
traveling down Jessica Horjus's path."

Horjus and the two sick soldiers have become part of Airola's outreach
network. She directs soldiers and their families to medical information and
counsels
soldiers preparing to refuse the vaccine. Many, she said, write letters to
their commanders explaining that they are willing to deploy, even to
indemnify
the military against any possible anthrax exposure they might suffer on the
battlefield, but "they just don't want to take these shots."

At Fort Campbell, Ky., Army Sgt. Richard Norris, 27, is awaiting punishment
for refusing the shots. When his unit of the 101st Airborne Division left for
Iraq in February 2003, Norris was sent anyway, with no vaccine -- and no
questions asked.

He returned in December to find himself still flagged as "punishment
pending," a status that has "put my whole career basically on pause.


"I've served my country for seven years," said Norris, a Seventh-Day
Adventist who tried unsuccessfully to get a religious exemption from the
vaccine
program. "Refusing this vaccine is the first bad thing I've ever done. It
wasn't
even necessary to have this vaccine, and still I'm going to be punished."

© 2004 The Washington Post Company