“All my life I’ve been chasing something, I feel fate breathing down my neck. If the road I’m on somehow leads me nowhere, no retreats men, no regrets.”-The Parlor Mob
“Let’s go crazy, let’s get nuts, slip on a purple banana ’til they throw us in the truck”-Prince
We did our tours, buried friends and enemies, achieved rank, forged reputations among our fellow warriors, and finally, when all the bureaucracy got to be too much for us, we got out. We excitedly raised up our DD-214’s, grabbed our nuts, stuck our tongues out, and flipped a bird to “the Man.” We were going to make something of ourselves.
Ahhhh, military regulations. Few topics evoke a more volatile cocktail of insatiable, fanatically polar opinions.
I think it’s time we address something else separate from the last two pieces. Rather than addressing the interior issues, the mental ones, we need to take a hard look at the way others perceive us. There is a stigma attached to vets that I have seen perpetuated by some of our own.
I'm sick of seeing service members fried because an officer or senior enlisted wants to make a point. I'm sick of seeing teammates throw one another under the bus to save their own career. With over a decade of war there have been countless examples of selfless acts in combat, but why do those acts disappear when we come home?
Life has a true lack of defining moments. We don't get the epic battle cry, or the final hard push to life happily ever after. We get a grind, a day in and day out need to work. If we want to get ahead, we have to grind it out even harder
We like to think of ourselves as a revival of American industry in that part of our country.
"I want what they want, and every other guy who came over here, and spilt his guts and gave everything he had wants. For our country to love us as much as we love it. That's what I want.”
- John Rambo
War was always here. Before man was, war waited for him. The ultimate trade awaiting its ultimate practitioner.