Chapters Of My Life During The United States Army

It’s the day I have to move to the army's campsite. I grab my bag and swing them on my shoulder, it weighs a ton it feels like my shoulder’s gonna break. Sophie was peeking through my room door, as I was about to stand up she ran to the living room curled up into a ball making loud thud and sobbing noises. Outside of the house, I hug my mom as tight as I could, I don’t want to move any single inch of my bone. I want to stay like this forever. I felt a drop of water behind my shoulder and I know that it was her tears. I don’t want to leave them but I have to. It was time to let go but she didn’t want to, I grab her arm and slightly push them back.

Since the day I was born, I have always lived my life as a military child. My father was in the Navy during the 1990’s, and my mother has been in the Air Force since 1997. Life as a military child has always been my normal format of life, so I am unaware of what it is like to live differently. From roughly 2002 to 2007, I lived in Fairford Air Force Base in England, where my childhood began, though I do not recall a substantial amount of it. However, I do recall that I attended school, albeit a primarily religious one, for the first time, and that experience was unlike any experiences I had with the American educational system from 2007 onward. I also remember being highly adventurous; I often ran out of my house, away from my local Child Development Center, and my school, though I

Little did I know that was going to be the second to last time I would see her. If I knew about my upcoming death and I had a choice, I would have stayed, but when you are deployed to the US army you don't have choice. You can resist orders and be killed or you can follow orders and have a slight chance of surviving. I chose the later because I wanted to come home to my beautiful wife.

On the early morning of April 19th, my husband left to gather with the militia. I being worried could not go back to sleep and awaited by the window from time to time. The children were still asleep and out of the corner of my eyes, I see at least a couple hundred of lobsterbacks. I was frightened and crouched making sure I wasn’t seen. Oh how my heart beated, and I am ashamed to remind myself that the militia fired. Perhaps out of fear, but they fired. Immediately there was movement until my eyes could see, running, shooting, bloodshed. As soon as I saw the Regulars marching, and the house being so near to all the commotion I ran to the children and hoped they wouldn’t burn the house down. I was prepared, nervous for the life of my husband

My army career was right on track. I had been in the army 3 years at this point, coming up on 4, and already had completed air assault school, been awarded my expert infantry badge, and had one 15 month deployment under my belt. I was assigned to the scout platoon sniper section and was waiting for a sniper school packet to get final approval from the company commander. I had been studying for the sergeant promotion board for months. I knew that study guide like the back of my hand, I knew whatever question I was asked by the command sergeant major I would have an answer for. I went to the promotion board that morning and blew it out of the water. My dress uniform was perfect. No one was able to find a single deficiency. The soldiers creed

It all started on a dare, I was told to join the armed forces. So I did, but everything changed that day when I saw a petty officer sprinting down the street. Only to stop not 2 feet in front of me and say “urgent telegram for Sergeant Rose!!” Which is when I knew that something was different because I never get anything important from the air force, I had only become sergeant a month ago. The briefing was hard because we knew most wouldn’t come back. Then it was shipping day. The steps toward the plane weren’t any better most of the men were married and yet most of them knew, knew that more likely than not they weren’t making it back. As for the ones that would be able to sleep on their own beds after this, well it would be worse. They would have to live with the fact that they lost their brothers in arms, but hey I'm getting ahead of myself, gotta focus on surviving.

Being the youngest person in a work environment can be difficult. To many, age dictates a level experience, both professional and personal, that can only be obtained over the duration of many years. For this reason, young professionals are usually relegated to junior positions. Of the adversities that I have faced in my four years as a musician in the United States Army, age was one of the most difficult to overcome.

Growing up as an Army brat had some disadvantages. Constantly moving, going to different schools, living in places that did not even speak English well, and most importantly not a stable support system. I did not really live with my parents until I was ten years old and that was short lived it only lasted four years. My parents were always getting station to a different military base or felt like we needed a bigger house. I was basically raised by my grandmothers, which was nice sometimes but I really wanted to be with my parents. A typical day when I was little went like this: wake up at my grandma’s house or at the local military base daycare, go to school, pick up from school by the daycare or my grandma, have an afternoon filled with all sorts of activities so I would not notice my parents were not there, go to my parent’s house, do my homework and eat dinner with them, pack my suitcase for that night, and return back to my grandma’s house. I moved so much that this college is my eleventh school I attended, which is sad since I never went to pre-kindergarten. Attending school was very much harder for me. I was bullied for being plus size and not

It was a crisp February morning in 2005. The first beginnings of sunlight crept through my metallic shades and onto my face. Groggily, I glanced at my alarm clock. ‘Seven O’clock’ I was late. I quickly jumped out of bed and slipped into my small goose down outfit, orange vest, and wool hat. From a corner in my closet I grab my small steel-toed boots lacing them up as fast as I could. Before I left, I glanced around my room to make sure I had not forgotten anything. I noticed the wooden gun propped precariously by the window. If I had missed that dad would have been angry with me for being forgetful. I raced down the stairs, making little thumping noises as I bounced along. When I reached the end of the stairs, the aroma of fresh coffee filled my lungs. I ran into the kitchen and I saw my dad wearing

When I was finished serving my time in the military, I had a really hard time adjusting back into the “civilian” life. I would drink constantly, and mix my medication to help me sleep and cope with my problems. I had a hard time sleeping and was struggling with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). I was too embarrassed to ask for help, because I did not want to show any form of weakness towards my family and friends. As a result of abusing my medication with alcohol, I lost my job, broke my ankle, and had a hard time paying for my bills. Finally, my family begged for me to stop and seek some kind of professional help, because they feared for the safety of my life. I felt guilty for putting my family in that position, and I wanted to

I was eighteen and on June 18th when I signed my final paperwork, my contract and got sword in. I was full of emotions when I reported to Basic Combat Training (BCT). I was nervous because this gonna be my first time traveling without my family. I was anxious because I didn’t know what to expect. Even though my grandfather and uncles told me stories about how it was when they were in the military and how things changed threw the years, it didn’t make it any easier on my nerves. Through my nervousness and anxiety, I was feeling confident that I would complete BCT and make my family

My role in the military has not had the advantages of going to school as often as I would have liked. My final push to complete my program was abruptly interrupted last year. I was notified on March 2014 that I would deploy to Afghanistan on May 2014 to support SOCOM for 12 months. This was a similar setback on top of others in the past.

Growing up in a military family is a tough way of life. My father is in the military, which has forced my family and me to move every two to three years. He has also deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan, occasionally, for over a year. The media has highlighted the hardships and sacrifices of members of the military, which I do not want to diminish. What the media has not highlighted is the sacrifices that the family members undertake, either when the military member deploys or is faced with yet another move. All the tribulations and sacrifices notwithstanding, I have been able to parlay them into making me a stronger person.

I grew up military. I grew up not knowing everything my step-father did and learning to accept that I never would. I grew up to extra limitations. I grew up having to look respectable at all times. I grew up to doing what I was told and not being able to ask why. Asking why was a luxury I never had. The move out was always talked about as some great relief, about how I was supposed to be so carefree and able to do as I pleased for once. I was always told to save my rebellious years for until after I left as it was supposed to only affect my future but as I discussed before, my actions have a lasting impact on my family, friends, and community. When I arrived at school here, I honestly wasn’t prepared for the amount of difficulty I would be

The end of my enlistment in the United States Air Force was a very stressful but life changing incident in my life. My girlfriend was pregnant with my daughter and ending her enlistment as well, the heavy debt that loomed over me that seemed like I would never get on top of, and the embarrassment I would feel when I had to tell my family back home that I was getting out of the USAF because I made a mistake one time. I knew that my I had to support my family and start applying for civilian side jobs immediately so that I could retain a steady pay check to keep a roof over my families head. I first tried to stay in the Air Force by drafting a letter to the Wing Commander explaining why I should still be allowed to serve but, after days of deliberation