Howdy,
I’m currently chill’n at Maxwell Air Force Base, located in beautiful Montgomery, Alabama. Maxwell is where most of the Air Force’s professional military education (PME—boom—acronym!) is located.
I’ve been coming to Maxwell my entire life. It brings back so many memories to be here among all these fine active-duty servicemembers beaming with pride. It’s good to come back and visit, even if it’s just for a moment.
This morning, I went for a nice little jog. Or a hog trot if you wanna be a dick about it. I’m not a fast runner, but I get the job done.
Anyway, I started off running past the Officer Training School (OTS - boom!), where the Air Force takes mostly prior-enlisted Airmen and turns them into officers. The majority of officers are commissioned from either the Air Force Academy (boo!) or Reserve Officer Training Corps (Hooray!). It is incredibly difficult to get a slot at OTS. Getting the nod for OTS is an enormous accomplishment.
As I turned left, I ran past what used to be the dorms for the Air and Space Basic Course (ASBC - boom!). ASBC is no more (RIP, homey). For a while, the Air Force sent brand new 2Lts here “to study” about the Air Force. What really happened was a little game I like to call “drink your face off.”
It was a complete shit show (technical term). I don’t remember much other than the trip to New Orleans (hooray!) and Destin, FL. The Air Force was probably wise to shut it down, as it was just a bunch of young 20-year-olds reveling at their first paychecks.
There were parties everywhere. One legendary lieutenant took a couch to the squad and set it on fire. If you’re going to break the rules, I say go big.
Around the corner from that building is Squadron Officer School (SOS). SOS is for Captains. They’ve usually been in around 4-7 years, and the school is 5-6 weeks long. Officers from across the Air Force, pilots, intel, maintenance, plus a smattering of other services attend. It is a blast.
Some people take it very seriously. I did not. I was too ate up with Iraq and Afghanistan back then. All I remember is the parties and making fun of some of the pilots’ penchant for stupidity. One of them got wasted and swam the river naked.
He got caught. Again. If you’re going to break the rules, go big, baby!
Then I came upon Air Command and Staff College (ACSC - boom!). I spent a glorious year of my life there. I remember how proud I was to get to attend ACSC “in-residence.” Only about 20% of Majors get selected to attend, which guarantees the next rank (Lt Col) and command.
I took it seriously. For the first time in my career, I wanted to compete with my peers for honors and accolades. I did well, which launched me to greater things. But I also met a lot of great people from across the world. I had a Spanish and Kuwaiti fighter pilot in my class. They were hilarious and a stark reminder of the importance of allies in a troubled world.
Finally, I came upon Air War College (AWC). This is where full-bird Colonels (O-6s) go to learn strategy. I never went. Today, as I ran by, I stopped and let my mind wander a bit. What would my life have been if we hadn’t dishonored ourselves by retreating from Afghanistan and abandoning our allies? Maybe, just maybe, I would’ve focused more on command than relocating Afghans.
I like to think I would’ve made it to AWC and done well, securing my FOURTH master's (why? Dear G*d, why?). That was the goal, of course: go to AWC or another service’s equivalent school, make O-6, and then conquer the world.
Like I’ve said so many times, I was never going to be a general or an elite Colonel. But, perhaps, I would’ve done some good.
It was hard to walk away from the Air Force and from a promising career. I had more to give, for sure. However, I had to be true to myself. What was more important: making O-6 or getting out and talking truthfully about the Afghanistan betrayal?
It’s more important to show the country what it did out of ignorance than to get more candy on my uniform. That doesn’t mean I don’t wonder what if, from time to time. But, I’m a happy man living my dream and telling the truth about these wars - warts and all. That’s a purpose in and of itself.
I ran back to my room and got dressed for the big ceremony. My former executive officer, now 2Lt Mahr, was commissioning today, and he honored me by swearing him in.
Gabe is an excellent leader who understands how to lead and mentor young troops. He also knows how to manage his boss (something he did very well with me). This is a very hard skill set, but he’s already mastered it at a very early age. I look forward to seeing all the things he will accomplish in his career.
The military is a very cruel mistress. You give, and you give, and you give, but then, at some point, it takes more from you than you’re willing to endure. The break-up is often acrimonious. I’m grateful for the time I spent fighting for my country and trying to win a just war, but I’m still not over some of the decisions “the military” made.
We will make up, eventually. But not now. Not for a long time.
There are some days that the pain of Afghanistan is still so overwhelming. It is a hole in my heart that will never fully heal. It is with me and always will be, I’m afraid. The war, no matter if I retire or not, isn’t done with me yet. That’s a tough realization that I’m coming to terms with.
Yet the sadness of the war is somewhat mitigated by men and women like 2Lt Gabe Mahr.
When I wonder what I did right while serving, I can point to men like 2Lt Mahr and try to remind myself that I did some good. That doesn’t make up for a lost war or for my country’s dishonorable actions, but it is a wonderful gift nonetheless.
I will be forever grateful to have served alongside men and women like him. G*d bless him, his wife, TSgt Mahr, and everyone who continues to serve.
Until next time.
You were an elite commander and no scars or even separation can take that away from you. You led with your heart and empowered your people. Leading by example is something most Commanders don’t understand…they are focused on the candy and the next recognition. Be proud when you look in the mirror, just like I’m proud to have served for you and to see you in uniform once again taking care of our Airmen and leading.
You were the first commander to seriously ask my opinion and the first that I truly felt empowered by. Under your command, I had a turning point in my career where I officially grew up.
Those were the best worst days ever. Life is at a standstill for now but still have my sights on attache before I call it quits!