If I could tell my younger self…
Wow. I can’t even begin to explain how much I have changed as a man over the years. I look back at the 18-year-old kid sitting in high school, wondering what I was going to do with the rest of my life. I find that kid almost unrecognizable today.
I decided to join the US Army almost immediately after turning 18. Honestly, I didn't think much about it at the time. Looking back on my military career, I am thankful for many things.
The US military changed me in ways I will always appreciate. However, it also impacted my life in ways I never saw coming. If I could go back and talk to my 18-year-old self, there are a few things I would warn myself about. Looking back, I know I would do it all again. Still, there are some things about the military and war I would warn my younger self about. Here are my top five pieces of advice for my younger self.
I decided to join the US Army almost immediately after turning 18. Honestly, I didn't think much about it at the time. Looking back on my military career, I am thankful for many things.
The US military changed me in ways I will always appreciate. However, it also impacted my life in ways I never saw coming. If I could go back and talk to my 18-year-old self, there are a few things I would warn myself about. Looking back, I know I would do it all again. Still, there are some things about the military and war I would warn my younger self about. Here are my top five pieces of advice for my younger self.
“You’ll never be the same again.”
I read the books, and I listened to the war stories from the guys who were there. I thought I had an idea of what war would be like. “Hey, younger self, you have no idea just how much the military and war will change you. It will change you in some good ways and some not-so-good ways.”
The first thing I would want my younger self to know is, “You’ll miss parts of life you can’t get back.” My younger self had a freedom, an innocence, and an outlook on life that changed radically over the years of service in the military and on more than a dozen combat tours.
I had no idea how precious this innocence was… until I lost it. And ever since I moved the body bags from my first combat deployment, I realized that I can never know how precious that innocence is. “Hey, younger self! Savor your innocence, because you’re going to miss it when it’s gone!”
The first thing I would want my younger self to know is, “You’ll miss parts of life you can’t get back.” My younger self had a freedom, an innocence, and an outlook on life that changed radically over the years of service in the military and on more than a dozen combat tours.
I had no idea how precious this innocence was… until I lost it. And ever since I moved the body bags from my first combat deployment, I realized that I can never know how precious that innocence is. “Hey, younger self! Savor your innocence, because you’re going to miss it when it’s gone!”
“It was better AND worse than you’ll expect.”
War was different from what I expected. In some cases, it was far worse than I ever anticipated. And at the same time, some moments were far better than I ever expected. “Hey, younger self, the death and destruction that war caused leaves images in your mind that you will never be able to unsee.” War shows humanity at its worst. But I also had brief moments when I got to see humanity at its best.
I'm not glorifying killing in war; that's not what I mean by better than I expected. I'm talking about the camaraderie I experienced on the battlefield. I have yet to find anything in life that even comes close to the relationships built under gunfire.
I'm not glorifying killing in war; that's not what I mean by better than I expected. I'm talking about the camaraderie I experienced on the battlefield. I have yet to find anything in life that even comes close to the relationships built under gunfire.
“The brotherhood is real—and losing it hurts.”
The relationships forged during the crucible of combat are unlike anything I've experienced in any other walk of life. Those relationships are precious to me in ways that no amount of riches on earth could replace.
Precisely because those relationships are so precious, when I lost a buddy in combat, it hurt deeper than anything I've experienced in my life. “Hey, younger self, you are going to hurt in ways that you will never possibly understand after losing a Ranger buddy in combat.”
Precisely because those relationships are so precious, when I lost a buddy in combat, it hurt deeper than anything I've experienced in my life. “Hey, younger self, you are going to hurt in ways that you will never possibly understand after losing a Ranger buddy in combat.”
“Coming home can be harder than going to war.”
Every moment I spent in combat, I thought about home. I felt the pain of missing family in ways I never thought possible. Still, coming home was bittersweet because even after leaving the combat zone, I carried memories and scars that I had to deal with—scars that weren't on the flesh, but ones that ran much deeper.
I would tell my younger self about all my friends who struggled for months or years, sometimes even decades, after coming back from combat with internal wounds and moral injuries for what they saw or did in war.
These wounds take a heavy toll on the warrior. But they also place a heavy burden on military families. “Hey, younger self, going to war may be one of the hardest things you'll ever do... but coming home can be even harder.”
The final thing I would tell my younger self is…
I would tell my younger self about all my friends who struggled for months or years, sometimes even decades, after coming back from combat with internal wounds and moral injuries for what they saw or did in war.
These wounds take a heavy toll on the warrior. But they also place a heavy burden on military families. “Hey, younger self, going to war may be one of the hardest things you'll ever do... but coming home can be even harder.”
The final thing I would tell my younger self is…
“I don’t regret anything I did. But I didn’t realize how heavy the weight would be.”
“Hey, younger self, you’ll never look at some national holidays the same again.” I find it nearly impossible to celebrate our independence on the Fourth of July or enjoy a backyard barbecue on Memorial Day without feeling deeply moved by the warriors who are no longer with us. Those days are bittersweet for me.
I value my freedom more today than ever. The price I've paid for it has shown me just how valuable it is. I often mourn while others celebrate because I've lost some carelessness and innocence when I see the American flag flying over fireworks to mark our independence.
I can’t help but weep when I hear Taps played on Memorial Day to honor our fallen heroes. Not just because I know some of them and their families intimately, but because I now have a deeper appreciation for the cost of our freedom that I didn’t have when I was younger.
I value my freedom more today than ever. The price I've paid for it has shown me just how valuable it is. I often mourn while others celebrate because I've lost some carelessness and innocence when I see the American flag flying over fireworks to mark our independence.
I can’t help but weep when I hear Taps played on Memorial Day to honor our fallen heroes. Not just because I know some of them and their families intimately, but because I now have a deeper appreciation for the cost of our freedom that I didn’t have when I was younger.
No Comments