This afternoon and tomorrow I’m doing what I’ve done for the past 10 years – going through application packages for the U.S. Naval Academy. Having had the immense privilege and honor to be a sitting member of a U.S. Senator’s Regional Service Academy Advisory Board this past decade, I have spoken with, and marveled at the phenomenal young men and women who take the tremendous amount of time each year to apply for the service academies. I marvel because they could do anything they wanted in this life with their pretty astonishing attributes, but they choose to serve this country.
And that humbles me. I absolutely love meeting them every year. Even though there are so few openings to fill, this is something they pursue with their whole hearts, sometimes for multiple years. Makes my red, white and blue heart just sing.
I do know something of service in uniform, so luckily I can answer most of their “life in the military” questions, unlike civilian board members. Twelve and half years of my life was spent on active duty in the most exclusive club in the whole world – as a United States Marine. I married a Marine who retired after 31 years, and our son has now spent a tad over 12 years in the Air Force (little knife through the heart there, of course). We lost a nephew to a suicide bombing in Bagram, Afghanistan 6 years ago and proudly keep tabs as other nephews – Marine, Guard and AirForce – advance through their careers. In fact, my side of the family is a little national defense crazy, from a sergeant noted for his ferociousness in the 1637 Pequot Wars through darn near every war since. We serve. Every generation has.
But this is what got me pondering – morosely, I guess you could say. When I first started as a board member, they were long, fulfilling Saturdays. For Annapolis, by far the most popular academy on our board to attend, there’d be 28-36 candidates to interview – some poor kids even call in from overseas where their parents are stationed (I’m telling you, it’s fascinating.). We’d be there at 7 in the morning, have lots of coffee, and sometimes not head out of the building (for the 2-hour drive home) until 8:30-9:00 pm. Long day. COVID year we did strictly zoom meetings, and I expected the numbers on that to be whack. Then, last year, we had only 12 interviews. I thought that was strange, and would surely rebound this year, but no. I’ve only 14 packages to read.
What is going on? Is this anecdotal only to our region, or is it happening everywhere? And, quite honestly, would a parent – especially one who had been in or knew anything about the military – even recommend that as a choice to their child in the current cultural environment? Listening to friends, other vets, and fellow Marines, that has to be happening more often than not. When I pose that question, “Would you tell a kid today to go in/enlist?” the first exclamation out of their mouths rhymes with “duck” and is followed by an emphatic “NO!”
It is so toxic.
I see what our son goes through dealing with the Air Force’s more corporate mentality and I thank God every day for two things: 1) he has our combined experience to bounce things off 2) he went in at 27 so didn’t fall for the BS and command abuse 18 yr-olds do. Even then, he’ll call from afar howling sometimes, and we have to squawk, “Slow down! SLOW DOWN!! We don’t speak Air Force!” I can’t count the times we’ve gotten off a call with him and said to each other, “WHERE is his senior leadership? Why aren’t they doing something about this? A Marine Corps corporal would be standing on a desk somewhere breathing fire if you treated one of his troops like that.” We don’t get it. There seems to be a blatant disregard for the health and welfare – physical and mental – of the troops. You haven’t been paid correctly in months? Tough. Etc,, ad nauseum. All I can think is that everyone is so worried about covering their own asses, that no one will stick their necks out for the little guys who are getting ground into bits at the bottom of the heap. To his great credit, our Ebola loves nothing more than to champion his troops – he has and will go to the mat for them. We’ve always told him, “Be the leader you wish you had. because it feeds on itself. Someday someone will want to be like you.” You grow good things that way.
Not so much yet in the Marine Corps as in the other services, but that sense of a unit, of being all in it together for a mission, vice “an Army of one” is being lost. There’s a really interesting fellow who breaks this down by dissecting a Marine Corps commercial versus a recent Army commercial (WARNING: the language is pithy)(What a surprise, no?). It’s worth a watch.
I have a whole list of other “things that are wrong” with the way the Wokesters and mediocre general staff are destroying the military by a million Woke cuts that I’ll save for another post…or six. You already know I’m opinionated.
But I have always treasured my active years in the Marine Corps, and treasure knowing nothing can ever change the fact that I. Am. A MARINE. There is no feeling like that on Earth.
I really hate the whole, trite, “Thank you for your service” thing. It makes me vastly uncomfortable because it’s so rote. And so unnecessary. Ever since that started, I’ve only ever answered one way.
Thank you, but believe me – it was entirely my privilege and pleasure to wear that magnificent uniform.
I want more American kids and their parents to feel that way again.
America needs that.
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