Band Of Brothers
As you’re reading this article I’m likely tossing and turning in a cold tent somewhere in the middle of the Uwharrie National Forest. I am off work in celebration of Veteran’s Day since the federal government shuts down for this holiday. For the last eight years I have tried to facilitate a camping trip for veterans, mostly members of my old Army National Guard unit. This is one of the beauties of deploying with a unit from your hometown.
We may have scattered to the four winds after our tour in Iraq, but most of us are still within an hour’s drive from one another. It still took almost ten years for many of us to reconnect after that deployment. We all just went our separate ways, even though we were geographically close, the war was the only thing that bound us. Once our war was over, so was that connection.
I made lifelong friends on this tour of duty. We shared the brutalities of life and death, homesickness, and heartbreak. Then we all settled into our new norms alone. The irony here is that despite not hanging out, or even talking regularly, all it takes is one call and we snap back into those old roles, those old friendships. A friend’s mother recently texted me the following sentiment, “I’m still in awe how you guys pull together at a moment’s notice, even after all these years for one of your own.”
Her son and I shared a gun truck together in Iraq. He is as close as a brother to me. He’d recently been going through some hard times and was in town from his home in Texas enroute to Georgia to get the help he needed. He called and said he was in town, I rallied other guys from our deployment, and we ate dinner and watched a bonfire burn afterwards. It was therapeutic. It was also a message to each of us. You’re not alone. You’re loved. Mostly, it’s a message that says, despite being some seventeen years removed from our homecoming from war, we still have each other’s backs when it counts.
I’ve been making my way through the HBO miniseries Band of Brothers and most recently finished The Pacific. I’ve seen all ten episodes of each series countless times. Somehow, they’re more powerful each time I rewatch them. The obvious dramas and heartbreak moments happen throughout the show where you find yourself choking back tears, but I was surprised at what hit me the hardest in both shows. It wasn’t when a prominent character died, it was when they all went home. Seeing what happened after the war, when they were no longer connected to one another daily, is what really hit me in the gut the hardest. That’s the part I related most to. When the war was over, their mission was done, and they no longer had the comradery and purpose of a shared task. That’s what choked me up the most.
I remember distinctly having the feeling on my last mission when we crossed back into Kuwait from Iraq that I’d likely never be here again. I knew I’d probably never be a part of something this big again, and perhaps never have as big a purpose as I just completed with our crossing back into a safe zone. Many of us get trapped in this place of always looking back, and getting stuck in what we’ve done way back when. It’s an easy trap to fall into. I would venture to say that it’s not as much the traumas we experienced in combat that keep us up late, although it plays a part, the main issue is a lack of connectedness. Loneliness has been a bigger killer than combat in many cases.
In a world where everyone is virtue signaling with twenty-two push-ups a day for veteran suicide, bypass the hype and just call your buddies. That will do more good for them than building your pecks and social media clout. It’s really that simple. If we want to stem the tide of hopelessness and despair post service, we have to create opportunities for connection. Many of us did our best work as a team, so perhaps we can find a new purpose by remembering those we served with, and making sure they don’t feel alone. What is your current mission? Are you including others in that?
In my case, I’ve found that nature has always offered healing. I started organizing these camping trips for guys I served with (or any veteran that shows up) and it was a way to get guys in contact again. It gives us something to look forward to while also being a safe place to look back from. Mostly, these trips serve as a place to decompress. I’d venture to say that time spent around a campfire with people that know your language and experiences can be more life giving than any pills offered by the VA, or whiskey drank alone. This isn’t to discredit medicines where necessary. There’s just something powerful about talking and sharing with people who’ve tasted the same dirt you have. That will likely get closer to the root of your issues than anything pushed by a pharmacy.
If camping isn’t your thing, maybe it’s fitness, or coffee, photography, or a book club or competitive ostrich racing. The point is, find what you like to do, things that give you life, and then see if you can include other veterans into your new mission. It won’t fix everything, but I imagine it’s a start. We can’t expect others to fix a problem that we are more than capable of fixing ourselves. So, this veterans day reach out to a buddy. See how they’re doing. Then go for a hike…or something.
Ps. If you’re a veteran and find yourself alone this veteran’s day and can get out to the Uwharrie National Forest in North Carolina, there’s a group of dudes sitting around a camp fire that would love to have you. So, just shoot me a message and I’ll send you the coordinates.
Check out an interview our local Fox 8 News station did on our camping trips and Hammer Down documentary several years back.
Thank you Stan!!! This is such a needed reminder.
My stepfather served in Vietnam.I think something like this would have benefited him, his fellow soldiers and would have helped our family tremendously. His mental health would have been better.
I can’t imagine what it would be like to walk in your shoes or anyone else’s shoes that has been deployed to a foreign country.
I do know that our military & their families need to know they are not alone.
They are valued & appreciated for the sacrifices they have made.
I appreciate your efforts to enlighten & educate.