Tag: airborne

Finding Purpose with a DD214

It’s hard to describe the struggle of finding meaning and purpose to a civilian; this is something only a veteran will understand and appreciate.

Purpose in the military

I remember quite clearly the day I drove onto Fort Bragg, fresh out of Ranger School and ready to lead men into combat.  I arrived at the 504th HQ and immediately took on the monicker of the Devils in Baggy Pants, a name earned in WWII given to the brigade by a german soldier.  I wore a US Flag on one shoulder, and the All American unit patch on the other.  From my first day, I represented much more than just myself.  I belonged to an elite group of men with a rich history.

 

It was more than being a part of a group with history though, it was also the gravity of what I was doing.  I was fighting for my country, ready and willing to sacrifice everything for the greater good.  The spartans came home with their shields or on them, I was similarly coming home with my flag or under it.  Every formation, every training exercise, every action I took in uniform was about sharpening myself and my men so we could make the other poor bastard die for his country.

Then I got my DD214…

Both Chad and I have told you many times, and i’ve written about it in the book, to make sure to answer why you’re getting out (1, 2).  It’s because both of us understand how difficult it is to find a purpose greater than yourself when you’re not in anymore.  To a civilian, that might not seem like such a big deal, but to a veteran, nothing is more important.

You didn’t joint the military because you cared about yourself, you did it because you cared about something greater than yourself.  You were a cog, and for many that served with you, you were an integral part of their lives.  Now what?

I don’t live to earn money.  Money is a necessity to survive, but having it doesn’t really motivate me.  I would go through a lot more pain and suffering to earn a cloth tab than to earn a dollar.

I also don’t live to work for my employer.  I know, that’s like a taboo thing to say, but I’m not willing to die for my company, but I was and am still very willing to die for my former employer:  The United States of America.   There are very few things I wouldn’t do to protect the red, white and blue, there’s no way to replicate that in the civilian world.

So?  Now what?

First, if you have a good “why” maybe that is your purpose.  Maybe you need to get involved in helping veterans or doing something for your community.  Maybe you need to run for office, or maybe you need to volunteer at church.

What you’re missing is the selfless-sacrifice that formed the keystone of everything else you did.

For me, I volunteer at church, give tons to charity, run this blog, support vets, and I live for my family.  My motivation to kick ass at work and earn money is so that I can continue to fund the efforts that make up my new purpose…a purpose that is bigger than me.

What’s yours?

 

 

-LJF



“…the best that is in me.”

Guys don’t become soldiers for the paycheck, they do it because they believe in something.  As a soldier it is easy to find meaning and purpose in what you do. There is plenty of symbolism and history for us to hang our hats on.

I still get goosebumps when I stare at a flag during the national anthem.I remember reading about the 504th Parachute Infantry 82nd Airborne and how our unit was named The Devils in Baggy Pants by a German soldier in WWII.  Jumping in Arnhem with men that were there that day, and fighting alongside my brothers are all things that give me pride in what I accomplished in my time in uniform.

That part is easy.

What about when you get out though?  Not only does that camaraderie not exist, but few companies have a rich an awesome history for you to be a part of.  Some guys like my buddies John Dill and Micah Neibauer decided to venture into the great unknown, take huge risks, and start their own businesses.  Crossfit Sua Sponte and Southern Pines Brewery are both successful businesses and each of them can be proud of that accomplishment. By the way, if you’re in the Raleigh or Ft. Bragg area, I recommend both!

I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that I chose John Deere.  Deere is a company rich in history and symbolism as well.  It’s a logo that is recognizable and stands for quality products.  It’s a market leader and a company that I can say I’m proud to work for.  It’s been around 175 years surviving a number of recessions and depressions, and has always been at the forefront of innovation.

Every day, as I walk in to start, I’m greeted by this picture below:

IMG_3638

“I will never put my name on a product that doesn’t have in it the best that is in me.” -John Deere

Every time I see it, I want to go back through time and high-five him.  It’s the civilian equivalent of this:

 

Airborne!  Nothing Runs Like a Deere!

 

 




The Christian Soldier

Being a Christian and a soldier has its own particular set of difficulties.  Some may call you a hypocrite, and they would be right but for the wrong reasons.

You see, all of us Christians are necessarily hypocrites.  We proclaim loudly that no one should sin, yet we admit to doing it every day.  That truth holds for me as I suspect it holds for many of you, and therefore as a Christian, I am also a hypocrite.  Being a soldier, however, does not make me a hypocrite.  I can be a soldier and still live as Christ and God expect me to.

Even a cursory glance at the Bible shows that God does not punish the soldier.  Abraham conducts the first recorded night raid to rescue Lot, Saul had his thousands, David his tens of thousands.  Even in the New Testament, John doesn’t tell the repentant centurion that he must quit, and both Peter and Jesus commend Roman soldiers for their faith.

The military is very much the context under which my faith was born.  What started as a ruse to get communion bread in Ranger school resulted in my actually hearing the word of God.  Slowly I began my conversion.

Two groups that typically have larger percentages of religious belief are soldiers and the elderly.  Both groups have come to grips with their own mortality.  I realized this quickly after my first firefight when the whizz and crack of bullets all around me showed me that it was luck, or maybe grace, that one of them didn’t find me as its target.

I accepted that I was indeed going to die one day.  All of us know this intellectually, but to believe and embrace it is quite a different story.  Many people see their eventual death as they get older and their body begins to break down.  As an Infantryman I realized that it really could happen any day, not in an intellectual way, but I knew it…I felt it.

Not everyone is built to do this job.  Some hesitate in a door, some don’t fire, and some will suffer emotionally for years.  Then there are the warriors who move with no apprehension straight into the face of danger and inflict whatever violence is necessary to eradicate the threat.  I’ve come to believe that you need to be designed that way, that’s not something that can be trained or taught.

In my walk with Christ over the years I’ve met men that can preach sermons that bring you to tears, others that give me goose bumps when they pray, and other still that can make music that brings you right into the very presence of God.

Some of us were given a different skill, like Peter who didn’t hesitate to draw and cut off a Roman soldier’s ear when they tried to take Jesus, we shouldn’t hesitate when confronting evil.  Also like Peter, however, we should be willing and able to show mercy, empathy, grace, and love.

Although some evil requires action in the physical realm to eradicate, other types of evil live in man’s heart, and can only be reached with love.  One of the efforts of CONUS Battle Drills is to teach you how to quell that beast so you can find love, compassion and empathy and live it in your daily life.

Violence is a tool, but it shouldn’t be your only tool.  When you lean on Christ you will find many other tools to add to your arsenal and you will not only be able to fulfill your purpose as a warrior but also as a Christian.






Firefight on OP4

Last night I was talking with some friends about our transition out of the military.  There was a common theme and it reminded me of a firefight:

“OP4 is under attack!”

We poured out of the hooches and into our vehicles right outside.  We were still adjusting our gear, snapping on NODs, tightening plate carriers, fastening seat belts, as we peeled out towards the gate.  I snapped the radio handmic into my chinstrap and could hear the progress of the attack.  We were spinning tires and spitting rocks everywhere as we pulled out into the wadi right outside Camp Tillman.

OP4 was several kilometers away, but we could see the tracer fire across the wide open valley in between us and them (the dashteh).  When traveling at 20 mph like we usually did, driving across the dashteh was one of the most comfortable of rides since we were on relatively flat roads instead of cutting through rocky dried out rivers like we usually did.  Traveling at 50mph under night vision, however, we found every rut, hole, hill, berm, and wall in a direct line between Tillman and OP4.

Although the vehicle violently slammed up and down, none of us wanted to let up, and the driver’s foot firmly pressed the gas pedal to the floor.  Our HMMWV engine roared loudly each time a set of wheels came off the ground. I had one hand on my rifle, using my thumb to keep constant pressure on the selector switch and keeping the barrel in contact with the floorboards in between my feet.  My other hand alternated from the handmic to the front windshield as I tried to keep my head from slamming into the glass.

OP4 was an unprotected observation post.  We basically walked up a mountain and said, “this is a good spot,” and set down our rucks there.  That was until this night.  This night, all that would change.  The enemy outnumbered our boys on the OP at least 4-1, and the paratroopers held their ground for a long time with no heavy weapons and no fortified positions.  They fought with rifles, small arms, some artillery and guts.  Eventually they became overwhelmed by the large enemy force and began a break-contact battle drill, fighting their way off of the hill.

“They’ve pulled out of the OP, that’s enemy on the top!”  I yelled to the men in my vehicle since I was the only one that could hear the radio, and when we were about 1km away, my .50cal gunner began to fire at the mountaintop.

The adrenaline coursed through my veins as I could identify specific enemy positions now that we were closer.  I threw open the door of my vehicle, pushed on it with my foot and began to fire.  My shots sounded like BB’s with the .50cal firing above me.  I could hear our artillery rounds wooshing overhead towards their targets and the distinct cracks of AK rounds coming our way.

“Stop right up there,” I yelled at my driver pointing to a position in front of us and he nodded white-knuckling the steering wheel with a smile on his face.  I unclicked the handmic and got ready to hop out of the vehicle as my door was still open.  I imagined doing some John Wayne follow me shit and I was stoked.  As the HMMWV slid to a stop on the rocky Afghan terrain, I pushed off to jump out and start pegging nearby muzzle flashes.

CLACK!

That damn seatbelt!

My body jerked as the HMMWV door came flying back, slamming into my helmet.  I fell back into the vehicle, my NODs had unclicked and were dangling in my face when I felt a sharp pain on my shin.  My leg was hanging out when the vehicle door swung back onto it as well.  I let out a grunt of pain as my forward observer, who sat behind me in the vehicle took up a position next to my door.

Rounds were flying back and forth, now half of our company was in the fight, pushing the enemy off of our terrain.  My machine gunners were pelting the summit with MK19 and .50 cal rounds. My men were already out of their vehicles ready to assault, and I was stuck in my vehicle, snapping my NOD’s back into place, fighting myself out of the vehicle, trying not to be a little bitch about the pain on my shin.  In between bouts of laughter, SGT Coca my FO looked at me, “You ok sir.”  I nodded as I spun out of the vehicle, untangling myself from that seatbelt.  My gunner made it a point to laugh nice and loud in between bursts.



Getting out of the military is a lot like that night.  There’s anticipation, excitement, and you have visions of what it’s going to be like, only to get caught by something you didn’t even think about at the last second.

The military does a very poor job of preparing us for this transition, and guys wait too long to start getting ready.

If 2016 is your year, then you need to start preparing yourself now.  Get your finances in order, know why you’re getting out, know where you want to live, and know what you want to do.  That’s the first step.  Then set goals, make a plan, and start working towards the answers in your big four questions.

I don’t care how shit-hot you think you are, if you’re not ready, it’s not going to go well.

Here’s some random firefight footage just because…