What is it that keeps some of you from leaving the military?

This is a fair answer. Some close friends are telling me “re-enlist, re-enlist”, and it’s hard not to get a bit sentimental about the past few years, so in short, yes, I probably needed to hear something to this effect outside of my own little sphere. I apologize for making military service sound either lesser or abnormal, that wasn’t my intent, just a poor choice of words I’ll have to live with.

Yeahhhh, that was a poor choice of words apparently, I didn’t realize “lifer” is considered derogatory in some circles (it’s something I’ve heard a bit in my own relatively shallow experience).

With regard to the “crap or get off the pot” comment, I think what I meant in a really hamfisted manner was that around the ten year mark is generally when people have to make that decision to stay in or get out, because any reenlistment beyond that tends to go into careerist status.

Very fair question, not personally taken as an insult, and one that deserves a slight explanation: my life actually wasn’t very good prior to the military. I grew up in Sierra Vista outside of Fort Huachuca (the irony of training there later for AIT is not lost on me), and prior to enlisting at 23, I was a rampant alcoholic working dead end jobs for minimum wage (around 7 bucks at the time, if I remember correctly).

One night, I got into a fistfight with a guy I knew from high school over something incredibly stupid, and I remember waking up with a black eye and awful hangover, and thinking to myself, “you know, things could be better”, and went into the recruiter’s office that day.

It was never about the money, though I remember joking with my dad after going through MEPS that “at least they give you six free pairs of underwear and all the socks you could possibly want.” For me, I just didn’t want to end up dead in a ditch or being a salty old prune working a dead-end job in a crap town.

I’ve been lucky. After my first tour, I landed a wonderful job that I’m still at, and got to generally be a not-stupid young adult making reasonably decent decisions in the financial and social arenas.

From a paper standpoint, I don’t have a lot of the traditional issues that would keep someone from re-enlisting. My life is stable, despite having to periodically pick up and go. From a personal standpoint, I am having issues reconciling what I consider a debt I owe the other NCOs in my home unit and staying in until it’s paid, and wanting to be able to advance other portions of my life, like settling down, kids, owning a home, etc. I admire soldiers like you that 100% know that this is something that will be a lifelong endeavor, because you will ultimately be the driving force behind the Army that is desperately needed. I’m just not sure if I have the same conviction, or if it’s strong enough to want to kill the selfish parts of me that wants what most people want out of life.

1SG,

First off, I appreciate your dedication, especially with seeing former soldiers of yours reach the same rank. I’m a reservist as well, and our career progression works a little differently, and it isn’t uncommon to see your junior soldiers meet or surpass you (I especially appreciate that you take that as a mark of pride, and not an insult like I’ve seen many others do.)

I am lucky. When I go to drill, AT, or a deployment, I am unmarried and without kids, and generally don’t have to worry about what happens when I’m gone. This last tour, I had a soldier who had just had his first child. If there is a sound I would never want to hear again, it’s a grown man trying to sob privately to himself when his son says his first words over video chat.

Stories and experiences like yours are the kind that are starting to take their toll on me. Sometimes I think that if I were an average person, not military affiliated, maybe it would be easier because I’d be blind to what people go through on deployments, POG or otherwise. In frank terms, I felt my heart break on this last tour, and I’m not sure that’s a piece of me that I’ll ever get back.

Realistically, I only gave 18 months of actual service: the rest was just showing up on weekends when someone told me to, but I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless. I didn’t give up anything like you did, and I’m not sure I can keep watching good kids give more than I do whenever we go over.

SGT William B. - If I were to take one example of the family cost in a little more detail:
My middle son, Robert (named after two Soldiers I lost in 2004) was 4 months old when I left for Iraq in 2007. Not only did I hear him say "daddy" for the first time over skype, but his first steps and so much more I only got to see via video. By the time I returned home, he was a toddler, full of life and chattering about Paw Patrol. Later, he was a preschooler when I left again in 2013. When I returned home, he had just started 1st Grade.
I know that I missed so much with him (now 11 years old), yet when I was out with him a few days ago, he told me he wants to be a Soldier when he grows up, "just like you (me)". That's when it hit me, that my influence over them wasn't limited to the times I was there for them.

That is also true when you're not on duty. That last paragraph you wrote also struck a chord.
If you are doing it right, you are not always on orders somewhere when you make a difference to people.
I wasn't on duty when I got the phone call from a concerned NCO that one of my PFCs was in the hospital. When I got there, she had a black eye, was missing some teeth, and had other injuries that were enough to get her admitted. One look and I knew, even though she was covering for her crummy boyfriend, what had happened. She spent the night in the hospital, but she wasn't going to leave that place, even if it was in my car, unless where she was going to be staying the next night was somewhere safe.
I wasn't on duty when a former Soldier of mine - one that had his first child when we were in Iraq in "08 - called talking about how his (then) fiancée had left him with their little boy and kicked him out. He didn't sound right, so I dropped everything and drove halfway across Wisconsin to find him, alone in a bar, drinking heavily. He was stunned when he saw me, and despite ETS-ing a couple months earlier was embarrassed like he'd let me down. I spent some time with him, basically giving a shit... exactly what he needed. Turns out, despite not speaking to him much in the years after that (maybe once or twice a year) when he heard what I was going through when my (then) wife dropped the D bomb on me, he showed up at my front door with some venison stew and returned the favor... telling me how much it mattered when I saw him when he needed it.
I wasn't on duty when another former Soldier, now retired for about a year, called me in the middle of the work day last month, words slurred and not sounding right at all. I dropped everything and figured out where to find him, passed out on the ground in his backyard. He had reacted strongly to something in his prescriptions he got from the VA. I got him an ambulance and followed it to the hospital, staying the night as his wife was away on business and couldn't get back until the next day. Turns out it was not an accident that he reacted like that, it was an OD, almost certainly purposeful. It will be a long journey back, but he is getting help from professionals.

You never know when life will throw an opportunity to matter at you, in or out of uniform. Service doesn't stop on a drill weekend, especially if you are an NCO.
I guess if I were to give you the bottom line after so many words trying to express it, it would be that you give so much to serve, sometimes a career opportunity or putting your life on hold, sometimes a relationship that can't survive the stress of deployment, sometimes time with the children, sometimes in permanent damage to body and mind, But if you look at it, you made a difference to many people, sometimes a life or death one.
That is why it is worth it to serve, as long as I am able.

I will probably hang up the boots next year, once I hit 26 years. That will be a tough transition. But I know the Army I leave is in good hands.

1SG,

I can’t empathize with what you’ve lost over your career and multiple deployments, simply because I never had to give up as much. I’ve only done two, both of which had girlfriends that ended up leaving because it wasn’t what they wanted (which is 100% fair in my instance.) I can deal with those losses, that’s something I think is common to most young soldiers and NCOs, but your story regarding your family is something that specifically terrifies me now that I am looking to start my own.

My dad was a platoon sergeant when he retired and for a fair part of my childhood. I remember mornings in Würms when I would wake up at two or three AM, and hear my dad shuffling out of the door. I didn’t understand at the time what he was doing until I joined many years later; on several of those occasions, he was out picking up his drunk soldiers from the Polizei. On some others, he was talking with his joes that were having family arguments. I haven’t talked this one out of him yet, but I think on one occasion, he had to help clean up the remains of a soldier that gave up before talking to him or anyone else.

Growing up in Sierra Vista (right outside of Fort Huachuca), I remember having a terrible opinion of soldiers. They’d date girls in high school, get stupidly drunk and cause trouble, give me grief in whatever crap retail job I was working in, etc. Bell curve of humanity I suppose. I don’t think I really understood this until I joined years after high school at 23. I was a closet alcoholic living at home with my dad, and I remember getting into a fist fight with a guy I knew from school. I woke up with a black eye and bloody lip and thinking to myself “you know, if this doesn’t change, I’m going to end up in a ditch somewhere.” I walked into the recruiter’s office later that week, went to MEPS, yadda yadda.

Despite the camaraderie and bravado in IET, the one thing I didn’t learn was how to be a functional human outside of training, so naturally, as soon as I got my bonus money and went to being a drilling reservist, I started falling back into old habits. In October 2011, I was near broke, homeless, and the recipient of a DUI as a PFC.

It’s never been in my nature to ask for help, but for once, I asked for it, first from my platoon sergeant (should of called my squad leader first, I still feel incredibly bad about that), and then afterwards, had an hour long conversation with my 1SG, a border patrol agent by the name of Clayton Brown. I’ll never forget him as long as I live, because I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him.

I was a PT failure at the time (I’ve never been a stud), and so I got assigned to a buck sergeant by the name of Kory Mauldin. Great guy, married to another SGT in our platoon with a newborn, stay at home dad at the time that had some really gnarly experience in Afghanistan during the early years. After counseling me, he worked together a plan to get me back to where I needed to be. I was too broke to afford gas to get onto Eifler Gym on Fort Huachuca, so we made a deal: make it to his place, and he’d take me to go workout/run.

I got a job (albeit not a great one, but enough) and I moved back in with my dad while SGT Mauldin and I kept up our arrangement. I started getting better and eventually lived up to my end of the bargain on the APFT. I was living on a pretty shoestring budget at the time, and I remember going over to his place like normal, went to the gym, etc. When I got back, we talked for a bit, and his wife (SGT Mauldin #2, who is normally even more terrifying than #1), came out to say hey. She also pointed at the kitchen counter to three huge paper bags filled with groceries, probably around a good $150 worth. They said to go ahead and take it, which I did since it was more of an order than a suggestion.

He helped me put the groceries in the trunk of my car and said bye, I waved and said bye as well. I think the only time I’ve ever cried as much was when my mother passed away a few years prior. At the time, they had freely given away what was about a week’s worth of work for me, despite being a young single-income family with a newborn. In my mind, I didn’t deserve it because of how badly I had messed up. I still don’t think I did.

I got really lucky with the DUI. When it came to pre-trial, mine was dismissed without prejudice (still don’t know why, although I’m guessing it was the rookie cop messing up on some procedure). Life went relatively back to normal; I worked four jobs (including the reserve) up until I left for my first deployment, which wasn’t really anything special. A couple days after I came back in mid 2014, a good friend mine recommended I submit a resume to the company I’m with now. Despite telling him I’m under qualified, I ended up getting the job, effectively quadrupling what I make and establishing a quality of life that I am loathe to leave.

I reenlisted for this last deployment that I just came back from, and I sometimes wish I hadn’t because of how much of a headache this one was in comparison to my first. I wish I had timed it better sometimes, so that I would be out just after I got back and not have to be engaged. As luck would have it, we were short on squad leaders, and now here I am, managing a small team of soldiers in various stages of their lives and having to get ready for my first drill back and teaching them what it’s like to be on mission. The days keep creeping by, and I keep thinking to myself that I’m not the right person to teach these kids how to deal with deploying, or even how to deal with their own lives. I’m physically broken (trying to work it through private insurance and the VA), and I refuse to be the Robocop sergeant that can’t run two miles and yet lecture someone on failing an APFT by a few seconds.

It’s not a question of being good or selectively bad. I learned on this last deployment that the Army is an amoral organization in that nothing it does is inherently wrong or right; it only does what it needs to in order to accomplish the mission, and I’m not bitter because of that. I’m bitter because I have a debt to people so much better than I am that I have absolutely no hope to repay.

Regardless, I have some time to make the decision. I have a good life outside of the military, but I wouldn’t be there without it. This conversation reminds of me talking with 1SG Brown. He always used to end formations with a play on our battalion’s motto, “The Force Multiplier; he’d always say “go forth and multiply.” It’s been years since I’ve heard him say it (he retired while I was in Afghanistan), but I often wonder about what the meaning was behind how he phrased it. You could take it as a joke quite easily, or you could interpret it as deliberately and patiently sowing the seeds for future success in your own life. I just wish I knew if he meant in the military, civilian life, or if there’s a balance between both.

Either way Top, however I end up, it sounds like you’ve been exactly the kind of leader the army needs for quite a long time. Cheers, and thank you for everything you’ve done.

SGT William B. - You have a compelling story as well, and now it is your charge to pay it forward to those Soldiers that you've been entrusted with. They will watch you and judge you and try to please you and try to get over.
You aren't the first to come back from mission thinking about what it all means and where your place is in the big green machine, nor will you be the last. There are certainly a few in your squad.
My advice, for what it is worth:
Get dirty with them and sweat and do what needs to be done right along with them. They will respect you and put out for you for it.
Don't be Robocop, but don't break yourself either. A profile is an opportunity to heal and get back to where you need to be. It doesn't mean you don't PT, it means you have limitations on what that entails. Do what you can alongside them. Soldiers can tell who is really broke from who is feigning injury to avoid work or PT tests, trust me.
Next time you are in resiliency training, tell your story. It is a good one and one that will resonate with many.
It will take a while - a year or more - to get back in the swing of things. Take the opportunity to set goals for you and your squad to accomplish, and seek out their ideas. A little cohesion towards common goals can cut through a lot of bullshit to achieve more than you think. Some of the same stuff that drives you nuts drives me nuts too. Do it because you have to, then do what matter to you and your men.

Give it a little time. You will know if you still have the heart for it.
Good luck, Sergeant.

I think this is something I really needed to hear. I’m going to wait until I’ve had some time to think on it, but it sounds like you and I have had some similar experiences with owing a debt to people much better than we are.

SGT William B. I sincerely hope you do. The Army needs good NCOs, and going to schools, tabbed our, PT studs don’t make you good. While the Army may need you, a Soldier WILL need you, it comes down to YOU needing you. No one is more professional than you. To maintain that, you have to be at peace with yourself before you can with others. Best thing I can hope for is that you study long, but study correctly. Either way, you’ll be ok, and I wish you the best.

Duty First!!

I’m a little annoyed with myself for that term, I didn’t realize it carried a negative connotation. I appreciate your perspective though, especially the final comment regarding commitment since that’s ultimately what I’m struggling with internally.

At the end of the day, it’s competing interests, ie. family/friend time/free schedules versus getting to do a job I love and be with people that I’ve trained and that have trained me. At least for me, you don’t really understand how irreplaceable certain systems and relationships are within your own life and career until you face the certainty of it being gone.

SGT William Bradley, I understand how you might not have thought of the term lifer as derogatory. It is such a common term used by those who choose not to make the service their career that most use it without thinking about it. They don’t want to be a “lifer” in the military without realizing that they seek to be one, just at a different location. It’s no problem with my final comment as that’s the most important part of a decision in regards to whether you should stay or not. If your heart is not in it then you can’t commit what you need to be successful and others will pay for that, especially since you are considered a leader in the Army.

As with everything in life there is always a give and take. What will you have to give up in order to have or do something else. For myself I have had to sacrifice time with family in order to provide for them not just now, but in the future. That sacrifice will allow me more freedom upon retirement to have greater flexibility and control in regards to whom I work for, where I work, and what I do. I have created stability that I might not have had if I made different choices. But again, my end goal is different than yours and what worked/works for me might not be appropriate for others.

I do wish you success on whichever route you choose to take.