Take me back, back to a time when things were simpler…
Uniform inspections. Workout schedules, muster in the mornings, then off to grab a sandwich from Subway, and some dip to start off the day. It’s about 0930 now and I’m finally starting to work. There’s a bunch of travel audits to do. Some of the boys are leaving for a secret service mission in a few days and I gotta make sure their flights are booked. I chop it up with a few homies from the Afghan company to see how they like their new platoons. I miss working with them.
My first deployment was to Afghanistan as part of an Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) company. There were about 21 of them and me. An admin guy. I wasn’t sure how I was going to fit in. I was nervous because six months ago I had just completed Expeditionary Combat Skills, and reported to the command. I was eager to get a deployment because I had been in the Navy for three years with none under my belt. I desperately wanted to be one of them, an EOD technician.
High speed, low drag. I had been practicing my side stroke for about nine months prior to joining the command. I initially wanted to go to Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training, but that quickly changed on deployment.
It was a winter deployment. We arrived at Forward Operating Base (FOB) Kunduz on Thanksgiving of 2012. I remember this clearly because we went to the dining facility and all the Army leadership on the FOB was serving turkey and mashed potatoes with their funny looking cowboy hats on (3/7 Cavalry).
People were staring at us because we had longer hair by Army standards and the U.S. Navy tags on our uniform made us stand out in the multi-cams. I felt so cool but nervous at the same time. Who was I? What skills would I bring to the team? I was part of the head shed and was there for administrative support. After a couple of weeks, that quickly vanished – I barely did anything related to administration. I did anything that would make me valuable to the team that was on the FOB with us. I wanted to help. I wanted to make a difference. I set up supplies, kept the fridge and Joint EOD Response Vehicle stocked, kept the satellite communications up, sent parts back to the exploitation lab, and many other things.
I felt and did make a difference on this deployment.
Being out of the service now leaves a hole in my identity. A hole that I thought I wouldn’t have. I’ve heard people say that once you leave the military, you lose your sense of purpose. I didn’t think it would happen to me. I had/still have goals. I want to graduate from college and get a great job where I can continue to make a difference. I have a family to take care of. I have a sense of purpose… or, I thought I did. I do, but there is still something missing…
