So, after a year's worth of dreaming up the sought after romanticized lifestyle of taking a sabbatical from West Point—with aspirations to travel, volunteer, and write my first novel—I finally came to terms with the lifestyle God has intended for me to live. I swore an oath of commitment to the profession of arms. I am humbled to be so lucky to serve with and for my brothers and sisters of the most beautiful nation in the world.
When I arrived back at West Point—a week ago, this past Sunday—I still hadn't made up my mind yet. Although I'd been doing serious soul searching, and exhausting my resources in my large support system, I couldn't figure out where my place was in this world. I tried talking to professionals, i.e. professors, officers, counselors, coaches; tried talking to family and friends; tried talking to God, all of whom are incredible people, but nobody really helped me much. In fact, they just made the decision more complex by introducing even more minute details and different angles that I hadn't previously recognized. Nonetheless, thank you all for your efforts, I really appreciate everything. After a few days of contemplating, and playing chess with all the moving pieces to shape my future, I made my decision. And here I am, shortly after the Affirmation Ceremony, reflecting on the importance of my decision, and couldn't be happier.
General Reimer (Ret.) spoke exceptionally well as a representative of our fifty-year affiliation (Class of 62, CAN DO) and as our special guest speaker. He reminisced from a time during his cadet career, when General Douglas MacAuthor addressed his class, and spoke of the importance of their role in the nation. Same role, fifty years later, MacArthor's words harmonized with the voice of our guest speaker, when he assured us of the worthwhile experience before us and the sincere privilege it would be to lead, in the most profound form of the word, America's sons and daughters, to protect their dreams of a brighter future. I made a connection, a special bond with my class, my academy, my country, and my God simultaneously during that speech. The Class of 2012, "For More Than Ourselves," our class motto rang in my heart and soul like the echoes of the Liberty Bell centuries ago. I no longer desired the year off. I will always have the distant thought to experience that independent, adventurous lifestyle; however, I firmly believe my place is here at West Point. Not because I've performed on an elite level before and feel entitled to the prestige of this place, but because of the position it puts me in after graduation. To lead soldiers in combat is the epitome of leadership. Eventually I would love to be a college English professor, possibly even coach high school football, but as gratifying as it would be to be responsible for part of a younger generations development, combat leadership encompasses a higher responsibility—a soldier's moral, mental, physical, spiritual, intellectual being—a soldier's life.
As I join, with my brothers and sisters of 2012, the profession of arms, I do so gratefully. I've never done anything extraordinary in my life to deserve to be in my current situation. I've simply listened to and learned of my mentors, and tried my best in everything—with the exception of physics. And so, sitting in Robinson Auditorium, listening to GEN Reimer's speech and taking in the peripheral panorama of my classmates waiting anxiously, I found myself on the brink of tears. I thought, "Why me, God? What have I done to be so fortunate? Thank you, for helping me realize how special this opportunity is, and thank you for your personal blessings."
I couldn't help but speak softly; repeating our Commadant's words of the oath, and feeling, already, the worthwhile experience GEN Reimer so eloquently described moments previous. I could take the sabbatical and explore the wonders of the world, write my book, publish some poems, go to school, teach, coach, raise a family, and be happy. But when my children read about this war in their history books, and ask me what I did during that time, I would be embarrassed to say I gave up the opportunity to play my role in it and leading forty of the nation's bravest. This war, agree with it or not, is the event of our generation, and the outcome of which could have a powerful influence over the world for the generations to come. That is something special, and something to take seriously. I may not have the military competence to be the most decorated infantry officer of all time, but I don't want to be. I want to play my part, lead my unit into and safely out of the fight. The only way I know how to, the way that somehow has landed me in the position I'm in today, listening to and learning from my mentors, and trying my best in everything I do. Because the people for whom I do my best, America's children, and for the future of those same people and my children as well, deserve my very best. The sense of gratification I gain from honoring my commitment to serving them is more than enough for me; and, I am absolutely confident my classmates, just as those for centuries before us have felt, feel the same honor I feel to serve. It's not for us that we do, not for what '62 "Can Do," but it's, "For More Than Ourselves," 2012.
