2. Why Did You Join the Military?
From cutebutpsycho99:
Why did you go into the military? What drew you to it?
In 1779, my great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather, Archibald Armstrong enlisted in the New York militia, even though it meant fighting against his father’s countrymen. He served with honor, before he retired and moved to Michigan. What he never could have known was that when he signed his name to that piece of paper, he was starting a nearly-unbroken line of military service that would stretch almost 300 years.
Nearly 200 years later, in 1977, my father enlisted in the Air Force as a missile maintainer. While he was in, he met my mother and had me and my middle brother. I was born in the hospital on Ellsworth Air Force Base, and spent most of my childhood moving around as my father changed assignments. The base was my whole life; I lived in base housing, I went to the base school, I got food from the base commissary. I learned to write by going to my father's squadron's softball games and asking people to spell their names so I could write them in the dirt. I remember getting my first ID at 12, when I was so excited to be one of the cool kids. I begged my mother to drive us off base, just so I would have an excuse to show it to the gate guard. I was always small for my age, and I was deeply disappointed when he didn’t ask to see it. But it didn’t matter; I made sure to show it to him anyway. And he was kind, and smiled at this little kid with a big grin and an ID card still warm from the printer, and welcomed me onto the base, like an uncle welcoming a young niece to his house.
So when it came time for me to stop thinking about what I wanted to do when I grew up and actually choose, there was never any question of where I was going. By that time, my father had been retired for years, and I missed the Air Force desperately, having spent so much time in the civilian world where things were so different. It was the little things that were missing that made the difference. When neighbors went on long business trips, no one showed up to mow their lawns, or collect their mail, or even just to see how the family was doing. The sense of family that I’d always had a child, and associated with the military wasn’t there, and I felt the absence keenly. The only question was how was I going to get back home.
My father always said that I would have to be an officer if I wanted to be in the military, and I knew I was going to college, so officership became the goal. The job wasn’t important. What was important was coming back to the family and the life that I’d been missing for so long.
Eventually, I graduated from the Air Force Academy and became a communications officer. Being an officer means my job is more than just knowing how to make wires and fix things. Mostly, my job is about people, and it’s the most important job there can be. Because the military is all about people, the people who stand up, and raise their hands, and say “Pick me.” The country asks lots of things from them, the people who stand up. Sometimes, it asks them to be gone for a long time, to be far away from their families. Sometimes, it asks them to come to work very early in the morning and leave very late at night, or to stop whatever fun they’re having because something important is happening and they need to go somewhere or do something right now. And sometimes, if you’re very, very lucky, and you work very, very hard, the country asks you to be in charge of other people. It asks you to help them grow, to take care of them, to make sure they have what they need to do their job, to protect them, and to make them the best they can be. It’s a very important job, because every person that you’re in charge of is someone’s son or daughter. Somebody loves them, and wants the best for them, and they’re charging you with the responsibility to make that happen. To teach them skills, and discipline, and strength, things like how to be a good leader, how to take care of people, how to be a good person. It’s a job that the country thinks very hard about and spends a lot of time trying to get right, and it’s a job you have to take very seriously. Because what you’re really dealing with isn’t just money, or equipment, or bases. It’s people. And a military can have as many cool planes or fast trucks or big guns as it wants, but without people, it’s just a bunch of steel and plastic, sitting useless in a warehouse.
But my reasons for joining the military aren't really important. What’s really important is why I stay. I stay because the country has asked for its people to serve it, to represent it, and to protect it. I believe in America, the things it stands for, the people who make it special, and especially the people who stand up. There is no greater honor I can imagine than being trusted to take care of the country's sons and daughters. There’s nowhere else I could be, nothing else I could do that would feel more worthwhile than what I'm doing now. It’s a privilege and an honor, and I’m truly grateful every day.
I know some people don't approve of the military. They think we're all war mongers, just looking for a reason to hurt other people. But having seen what I've seen, I think most military people would be perfectly happy if there were no war or fighting, if we were forces entirely focused on humanitarian missions and aid. But, like Schwarzkopf said, "Any soldier worth his salt should be anti-war. And yet there are still things worth fighting for." I'm a pragmatist. I know that things aren't perfect, but I always think they could be better, and that's worth aiming for.
Why did you go into the military? What drew you to it?
In 1779, my great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather, Archibald Armstrong enlisted in the New York militia, even though it meant fighting against his father’s countrymen. He served with honor, before he retired and moved to Michigan. What he never could have known was that when he signed his name to that piece of paper, he was starting a nearly-unbroken line of military service that would stretch almost 300 years.
Nearly 200 years later, in 1977, my father enlisted in the Air Force as a missile maintainer. While he was in, he met my mother and had me and my middle brother. I was born in the hospital on Ellsworth Air Force Base, and spent most of my childhood moving around as my father changed assignments. The base was my whole life; I lived in base housing, I went to the base school, I got food from the base commissary. I learned to write by going to my father's squadron's softball games and asking people to spell their names so I could write them in the dirt. I remember getting my first ID at 12, when I was so excited to be one of the cool kids. I begged my mother to drive us off base, just so I would have an excuse to show it to the gate guard. I was always small for my age, and I was deeply disappointed when he didn’t ask to see it. But it didn’t matter; I made sure to show it to him anyway. And he was kind, and smiled at this little kid with a big grin and an ID card still warm from the printer, and welcomed me onto the base, like an uncle welcoming a young niece to his house.
So when it came time for me to stop thinking about what I wanted to do when I grew up and actually choose, there was never any question of where I was going. By that time, my father had been retired for years, and I missed the Air Force desperately, having spent so much time in the civilian world where things were so different. It was the little things that were missing that made the difference. When neighbors went on long business trips, no one showed up to mow their lawns, or collect their mail, or even just to see how the family was doing. The sense of family that I’d always had a child, and associated with the military wasn’t there, and I felt the absence keenly. The only question was how was I going to get back home.
My father always said that I would have to be an officer if I wanted to be in the military, and I knew I was going to college, so officership became the goal. The job wasn’t important. What was important was coming back to the family and the life that I’d been missing for so long.
Eventually, I graduated from the Air Force Academy and became a communications officer. Being an officer means my job is more than just knowing how to make wires and fix things. Mostly, my job is about people, and it’s the most important job there can be. Because the military is all about people, the people who stand up, and raise their hands, and say “Pick me.” The country asks lots of things from them, the people who stand up. Sometimes, it asks them to be gone for a long time, to be far away from their families. Sometimes, it asks them to come to work very early in the morning and leave very late at night, or to stop whatever fun they’re having because something important is happening and they need to go somewhere or do something right now. And sometimes, if you’re very, very lucky, and you work very, very hard, the country asks you to be in charge of other people. It asks you to help them grow, to take care of them, to make sure they have what they need to do their job, to protect them, and to make them the best they can be. It’s a very important job, because every person that you’re in charge of is someone’s son or daughter. Somebody loves them, and wants the best for them, and they’re charging you with the responsibility to make that happen. To teach them skills, and discipline, and strength, things like how to be a good leader, how to take care of people, how to be a good person. It’s a job that the country thinks very hard about and spends a lot of time trying to get right, and it’s a job you have to take very seriously. Because what you’re really dealing with isn’t just money, or equipment, or bases. It’s people. And a military can have as many cool planes or fast trucks or big guns as it wants, but without people, it’s just a bunch of steel and plastic, sitting useless in a warehouse.
But my reasons for joining the military aren't really important. What’s really important is why I stay. I stay because the country has asked for its people to serve it, to represent it, and to protect it. I believe in America, the things it stands for, the people who make it special, and especially the people who stand up. There is no greater honor I can imagine than being trusted to take care of the country's sons and daughters. There’s nowhere else I could be, nothing else I could do that would feel more worthwhile than what I'm doing now. It’s a privilege and an honor, and I’m truly grateful every day.
I know some people don't approve of the military. They think we're all war mongers, just looking for a reason to hurt other people. But having seen what I've seen, I think most military people would be perfectly happy if there were no war or fighting, if we were forces entirely focused on humanitarian missions and aid. But, like Schwarzkopf said, "Any soldier worth his salt should be anti-war. And yet there are still things worth fighting for." I'm a pragmatist. I know that things aren't perfect, but I always think they could be better, and that's worth aiming for.