Service & Military
Less than a month after turning 17, I enlisted in the Marine Corps and completed boot camp in November the following year. My decision to enlist was motivated by a naïve patriotism, to do something worthy by serving my country after we were attacked. I also needed a major shift, and a challenge, to restart my life in a way that would force growth. It forced me to leave Southern California, which I never considered before. It taught me discipline and much more. Not everyone takes the same lessons from military service or events in life, but I was intent on growth and learning. My experiences in the military made me thankful for how good we have it in the United States, and for being alive. I would not truly appreciate being alive until being close to death.
I scored high on the ASVAB test and could have chosen any role in the Marines, but I chose the infantry because I wanted direct action and a greater purpose in life by playing a small part in history. My senior year in high school was devoted to graduating and preparing for boot camp.
After completing my training, I was assigned to a newly created FAST (Fleet Anti-Terrorism Security Team) Company stationed in Virginia. A few months in, they asked for a few volunteers who were good with computers to do the security clearance paperwork for the platoon. I was one of the volunteers, but soon after I was the dedicated person for it and was given a second duty of platoon scribe, which for a 50-person platoon with two O-3s (Captains) and seven NCOs, included organizing personal and performance data for each member, making and organizing spreadsheets, assisting with planning, logistics, and training.
This was in addition to having to do the same training and maintain the same standards of my peers, so I often worked late and on weekends when everyone else had free time. Being the admin guy, I was an easy target for ridicule to the other kids (yes, despite what some may think, we’re all still basically kids when we get to our units; bootcamp and training does not change that) who didn’t understand or appreciate my contributions behind the scenes. Still, I managed to have a perfect physical fitness test (PFT) and high marksmanship scores. But because I was needed “in the office”, I was denied opportunities in designated marksman school, higher swim qualifications, and others.
I didn’t like this added role and wanted to fit in, but it taught me organization, planning, a view of how a platoon was led and managed, and other lessons that aided me later in life. The lessons I took from that role gave me an edge over my peers both in and out of the military, something I didn’t realize or appreciate until years later.
During my four years in the Marines, I completed two deployments to Iraq, and one to Cuba and Chile. In 2005, I used 10 days of leave before my final deployment to accompany a church to Slidell and New Orleans for hurricane relief. Before that, I often volunteered at schools, charities, and churches. And for fun, me and a couple of the guys would go to events at the nearby university where it was easy to meet and make friends our age.
I trained with the British Royal Marines, Chilean Marines and Commandos, and the Iraqi Army. I met Ambassadors, Colin Powell, represented my platoon in media interviews, a 3-Star General Petraeus and other military leaders, various diplomats, and news anchors. The day we landed in Baghdad airport for our first deployment, it was my turn for guard duty on our supply pallets. An Air Force medical officer who was on his way out of Iraq greeted me and started a conversation. This being my first day of my first deployment in a combat zone, I thought I could learn something helpful. Reality quickly sunk in as the officer described in demoralizing detail the inhumane treatment of locals at the hands of our own forces. We were supposed to be the good guys. My naïve optimism melted away to the realities of conflict less than 24 hours after landing. Only weeks later, the Abu Garib abuse jolted into international headlines.
I made many lifelong friends and lost some. One of my drill instructors, and a school of infantry instructor, who both trained me, were killed the same year during my first deployment. A friend from infantry school also fell, and my close friend Antoine was killed by a sniper in the final days of the 2004 Battle of Fallujah. We were unable to attend his funeral because weeks after returning from our 9-month deployment to Iraq, we turned around and deployed to Latin America.
I won’t write in detail about my military service, but I lost more friends in the years after I left the military. Some in action in Afghanistan, and others by their own hand from a war raging within. Leaders are made, not born. I was a terrible leader lacking confidence at first, not ready for the responsibility once it was given to me. But thanks to guidance of a few mentors who believed in and taught me, I was prepared when the time came to lead my own squad in my third and final combat deployment. One of the best was my Uncle, who served in an airmobile unit in Vietnam as a squad leader and lost half his squad. He prepared me in ways my formal military training did not in fighting the insurgency we faced. I adopted new tactics. For the first time in my life, at 21 years young, I had the freedom to lead and make decisions that mattered. What mattered most was protecting the lives of the guys in my squad, representing our country with honor, and protecting the innocent. This task would be challenging, as I faced obstacles both from within our own ranks along with those posed by our adversaries.
I learned later that terrible decisions made by senior leaders, such as disbanding the Iraqi Army or refusing offers of negotiation with the Taliban when they were at their weakest, resulted in inflamed insurgency in both Iraq and Afghanistan that robbed the lives of a few of my friends; and led to a worse outcome than the alternative.
The rest of my service would have me win Marine of the Quarter several times, quickly promoted to Sergeant, lead a squad of Marines and Iraqi soldiers in combat during my first patrol as a squad leader and our unit’s first engagement, encounter pirates off the horn of Africa with whom we shared a ship with while they were treated for their injuries, and experience different cultures and countries. I would find myself back in a classroom weeks after returning from my final deployment in May 2006; and less than four years since I last sat in one in high school. I saw the best and worst of life, but left determined to make the most of whatever time I had left.
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