The 4th of July
In a break from my normal discussions of defense, tech, and policy, I want to reflect on military service and family.
Following the signing of the Declaration of Independence, America, the Continental Army, militias, and citizens fought the British over the next eight years to secure American independence. The experiences of the military and actions helped to etch the founding mythology of America.
The Founding Fathers were ambivalent about a standing army. Many acknowledged it was essential for the nation but also saw in it a potential tool of tyranny (or Madison’s mischief.) Their understandable caution was rooted in fear of the centralization of state power in any institution that could be used to deny freedom and liberty. Despite the reservations, many, maybe even most, eventually saw the need for a standing military that could protect America’s vital interest.
Today’s military has changed since its founding. The ending of the draft in 1973 created an all volunteer force. In many ways, military service has become a family affair. I come from a military family. Like Lt. Dan, a member of my family has fought for America in every major conflict since before the U.S. was a country, though mine tended to survive. In my immediate family, both of my grandfathers, my dad, five uncles, an aunt, multiple cousins, and one brother served in the military. My grandfather’s stories of Korea and Vietnam, his older brother’s stories of serving in the Pacific during WWII, and the myriad stories from my family were part of growing up. These were not dull histories, but were part of our family lore. They showed how our family wove into the fabric of America. To say it is the military is a family business is, for my family, to put it mildly.
Like most Americans, my family celebrated 4th of July the way God intended, by blowing things up. My affinity for the July 4th holiday goes beyond nostalgia of childhood summers. My grandfather would cook too much food and uncles would bring too many fireworks, but, in the evening between explosions, there was always conversation and storytelling from the adults’ military service. As a kid, I would sit rapt, often at my grandfather’s right side and listen. These stories, often funny, occasionally heartbreaking, and sometimes, once I was older, violent, were how they stored and passed memories of friends, some long gone. On Independence Day, my family seemed to recall more readily those they served with.
At 19-years-old I shipped to the regional MEPS, the military entrance processing center all enlisted move, on the 4th of July. I did not know then, despite my background, that I was joining the traditions of an organization that would shape me through adulthood.
The military has a strong oral tradition. “No shit, there I was” is a common enough opening to be a joke in the military, but it is also something more. Stories are the medium in which old soldiers share knowledge with new recruits. Lessons of what not to do are wrapped in stories and jokes that permeate the military. These war stories were the same as the stories my family would tell. They were often humorous but always had a lesson. One of the last things my grandfather said to me before my first deployment to Iraq was a story about avoiding Vietcong traps on patrol. He concluded with, “you know what a bear trap does right?”
I nodded, “it traps a bear.”
“And you know what a booby trap does right? It traps a boob, so don’t be a boob.”
This joke was part of a much larger military tradition. In fact, they might be the oldest tradition in the military and the only one unchanged since the beginning. Yes, the military writes mountains of doctrine, but lessons are passed on via stories and jokes from one generation to the next and for me, the 4th of July was always a day where stories were told and lessons were passed.
This holiday is the first I celebrate as a civilian in 21 years. I hope that I shared enough of the stories and lessons I gathered over my career with those that need them. To serve in the military is to accept that you will face hardships. My family faced many of those because of my service. But, we also found family along the way. Now, the fireworks are a bit too loud and my hearing is shot, but between the explosions and silence, the memories of the stories, mine and those I carry with me, ring loudly.