On The Future

It is difficult to comprehend the future when it will be different from your dreams. In my case, I planned on being a twenty-year veteran in the US Army, retiring as a high-ranking officer and spending my days teaching at University. I planned on seeing the world while wearing the uniform, absorbing the culture of other countries and holding a knowledge of the world which those outside the uniform would never know. I planned on leading troops into war, holding the responsibility of keeping my country free from the evils of this world. I planned on serving on Battalion staffs, making decisions which would impact a vast amount of people under my command. I planned on ascending into being a Battalion Commander, approving or denying policies based on whether or not they would benefit my soldiers. I planned on finally being chosen to be a Brigade Commander, establishing myself above all others in my twenty-five hundred troops. I had a plan for greatness, and I was determined to follow it.

            I raised my hand to serve in the year two-thousand and twelve, a lowly Private First-Class with a chip on both his shoulders. I entered Basic Training at Fort Benning where I learned how to be a soldier as well as a leader before moving on to Fort Gordon to learn my job: Radio COMSEC Repair. I was a lucky person to obtain this slot, a security clearance placed upon my shoulders and mastering a rare skill in the Army. For six months, I studied vigorously, graduating this school at the top of my class. I returned home with a new sense of self, and I was prepared to continue to push myself forward. I entered a military college and began my attempt to graduate and go to OCS and become an officer. It seemed as if my plan would come to pass and I would be well vested to continue my journey. It’s funny how life tends to have alternative plans for us.

            Upon my second semester of college, my sister passed away, leaving me alone in this world. My mind descended into madness at the loss of my only family. To make matters worse, the college which I believed was a great place descended into poor leadership and generated a sense of entitlement into the student leadership, creating an abuse of power. As for my Army life, I was stripped of my office used to repair radios and I was placed as a driver. The future got brighter when I met the woman who would become my wife, but I decided that my happiness would only be achieved if I removed myself from the cadet corps of this college and move in with her and her two children. It was when I decided to remove myself from the cadet life, my military life began to push more and more into a busyness like I had never known, pushing me further away from my new family. To make matters bleaker, since I was always away due to miscellaneous and often unnecessary orders to return to my unit, I couldn’t graduate college on time.

            While I was becoming more and more of a useless commodity for my unit due to my inability to do my job, I fell into a depression which would last for the next year. I had lost my purpose in the one place which I felt I truly belonged in this world. Even though I was massively depressed, I still wrote whenever I could, creating what I believed to be some of my greatest work at the time due to my lack of motivation to be giving my effort to the Army. It was when I was transferred to a different company that the fun really began to start.

            I was transferred to the 59th FSC when the 230th BSC was officially shut down, giving me a totally new leadership as well as a new purpose in the Army. My Company Commander was the former Executive Officer for the 230th, so I felt I would have a similar experience with this leadership that I was accustomed to. What I began to realize was that matters were going to get worse. I was stripped of my military driver’s license, pushed into a new platoon and essentially utilized as a universal tool in which NCO’s would use me for miscellaneous needs. I was completely miserable in my position, and I felt that I would no longer wish to be a part of the Army once my contract was up. I began to gain weight, smoke even more, drink more often and would see my childhood dream as a chore rather than a benefit to society. I was not doing anything worthwhile, and I felt my time with the Army wasn’t worthwhile either.

            Finally, my life would change again when my brigade was selected for deployment and I was allowed to be deployed with Able Company, an Infantry unit who saw me as a valuable commodity rather than a useless tool. They even attempted to remove me from the 59th and into their own ranks. I was to be moved in the following few months to better train with my new fellow soldiers and to better prepare for the future in Iraq. I was prepared to confer my knowledge of radio transmissions to my new leadership and do my duty with a smile on my face rather than a frown on my heart. The only thing which I needed to do before I was torn from the demeaning unit was go to Annual Training with them.

I was magically given back my driver’s license and given the task of leading our convoy to Fort Stuart for the training exercise. It was only when I saw the vehicle in which I was tasked to drive that concern overwhelmed me. The vehicle was nearly twenty-five thousand miles over what it needed to be, the wheels were slightly out of line, and there was an electrical issue with the vehicles front and rear lights. Despite my objections, I was ordered to drive the vehicle with a soldier who was one week out of his training. Despite my nervousness, I was a soldier, and I followed orders.

I loaded the vehicle, and I waited for the green light to lead the convoy. Once we were told to move forward, I left the unit, and we were on the way to our three-week training. I sucked on cigars and sipped water for three hours until it was time for me to switch driving with my Assistant Driver. We stretched our legs and were well on our way once more. I don’t remember what happened after that, because my next stream of consciousness was a nurse in the ICU.

What I later learned was we hydroplaned, and when my Assistant Driver attempted to correct, the misalignment in the wheels caused us to flip six times off the highway. Our seat belts snapped, causing the both of us to fly out of the vehicle and land on the moist ground. Had it not been for the swiftness of an NCO behind me on the convoy, I would be dead. He pulled me from the wreckage, and the both of us were rushed to the hospital where I stayed for eighteen days. I could move two fingers on my left hand, and I couldn’t feel my legs. I had broken thirty-eight bones in my body and was bruised so badly that I was black to the sight. It was here that my military career was officially and unemphatically, over.

Now I face a medical retirement and a pension rather than the glory in which I sought in my dreams. I will never again wear the uniform, will never again hold a rifle in defense of this country, will never know what it feels like to endure a combat deployment and will never know what it means to serve in a line unit. I will never know this because those who were charged with defending my well-being chose convenience over common sense. I will never know this because I was betrayed by those appointed above me decided that looking the other way was the best decision when it came to problems with a vehicle. I will never know this because my Company Commander was so unbendable that those who she was in charge of would never stand up to her, and would task two rising soldiers with something that would almost take their lives. When one sits on a pulpit and looks down upon their subordinates rather than understanding what their issues are, it is easy to overlook the real problems they face. In my case, it was the act of using an unsafe vehicle to perform a task, and the result was my dismissal from the Army and pain for the rest of my life. If she would have been allowed to continue to be in charge of a group of soldiers, the consequences overseas may have been the lives of her soldiers.

Therefore, I am thankful for the scars which I now bear, because that means no other soldier will feel the wrath of an ignorant leadership bent on gambling and betting others’ lives at the roulette wheel we know as Murphy’s Law.