The KSB
4-4-11/11-5-11
So the Army has told me I’m retiring on July 1st this year. To be quite frank it’s probably only the third time the Army has made the decision I wanted them to. The first time was when I was accepted to Officer Candidate School. The second time was when they accepted me into the Acquisition Corp. Since I first put the uniform on November 14 1989 it has been a hell of a ride and quite frankly I'm lucky to be alive. I can’t say it’s always been fun, I can’t say it’s always been interesting. I can say if I had the chance to do it all over again I wouldn’t do too many things differently. That being said the uniform has gotten a bit heavy the last couple of years. Those of you who have worn the uniform know what I’m talking about.
As I sit here I have so many conflicting emotions I can’t really make sense of them. Part of me feels the Army has used me and is throwing me away to make way for younger, hungrier, less broken officers (it is). It would be hypocritical of me to be angry, I’ve used the Army just the same way. It paid for my college, it showed me the best and worst parts of the world, and it turned me into a more thoughtful, deliberative human being. The last four years that I’ve been an acquisitions officer have given me business training, opportunities, experiences, and contacts that would make most people envious. Spoiler alert, I plan on wasting it and going to work for the Air Force as a civilian acquisition officer.
I’ve had the opportunity to witness true evil. I’ve looked into the pleading eyes of women and children as they kneelt over the bodies of their loved ones. I could see it on their faces, they were asking me why. I never knew.
I’ve met men who would go on to consciously and voluntarily give everything they were and would be to the man next to them. Their smiles haunt me. I’ve written letters to parents telling them the story of how their sons lived their final days, how they died bravely, that I would always keep their memory. As time goes on I more often find myself wondering what they would be doing now if they were still alive. Would they be married with sons and daughters? Would they still be in, or would they have headed off to college? Pointless questions, but I ask myself them anyway.
Too many times I’ve embraced and cried with my wife and children as I’ve headed off to war. I’ve felt infinite joy when I came home to them. I’ve missed birthdays, anniversaries, concerts, plays, date nights, and countless other things because Army demands that it comes first. I’ve also taken them to see Paris, London, Rome, Barcelona, and countless other European cities that I wouldn’t have if not for the Army.
At the end of the day the Army (Marine Corp, Air Force, Navy, and Coast Guard) is not a living thing. It has no feelings, it’s not capable of love. I however am capable of feelings, and can say that I love the Army and can’t think of anything else I would have rather been doing.
As I sit here I have so many conflicting emotions I can’t really make sense of them. Part of me feels the Army has used me and is throwing me away to make way for younger, hungrier, less broken officers (it is). It would be hypocritical of me to be angry, I’ve used the Army just the same way. It paid for my college, it showed me the best and worst parts of the world, and it turned me into a more thoughtful, deliberative human being. The last four years that I’ve been an acquisitions officer have given me business training, opportunities, experiences, and contacts that would make most people envious. Spoiler alert, I plan on wasting it and going to work for the Air Force as a civilian acquisition officer.
I’ve had the opportunity to witness true evil. I’ve looked into the pleading eyes of women and children as they kneelt over the bodies of their loved ones. I could see it on their faces, they were asking me why. I never knew.
I’ve met men who would go on to consciously and voluntarily give everything they were and would be to the man next to them. Their smiles haunt me. I’ve written letters to parents telling them the story of how their sons lived their final days, how they died bravely, that I would always keep their memory. As time goes on I more often find myself wondering what they would be doing now if they were still alive. Would they be married with sons and daughters? Would they still be in, or would they have headed off to college? Pointless questions, but I ask myself them anyway.
Too many times I’ve embraced and cried with my wife and children as I’ve headed off to war. I’ve felt infinite joy when I came home to them. I’ve missed birthdays, anniversaries, concerts, plays, date nights, and countless other things because Army demands that it comes first. I’ve also taken them to see Paris, London, Rome, Barcelona, and countless other European cities that I wouldn’t have if not for the Army.
At the end of the day the Army (Marine Corp, Air Force, Navy, and Coast Guard) is not a living thing. It has no feelings, it’s not capable of love. I however am capable of feelings, and can say that I love the Army and can’t think of anything else I would have rather been doing.
