Here's a shocker
Life after the military? It exists, albeit it similar form, at least for those of us fortunate enough to continue making a living in our professional specialties afterward. Oddly enough, six months after my oh-so-happy exit from Uniform Land, I find myself right back where I was in November of 2009: Camp Atterbury, Indiana. There's been some building and renovation, a few modest improvements, though the open-bay barracks are identical.
But the differences between then and now are many and powerful, if only in their symbolism. I have a hair cut with no stress to it. I have a beard (the remains of a hopeful hockey playoff beard, but I digress). When I go to work at 0700, I do so in jeans, a polo shirt, and tennis shoes. The Army guys call me "Sir," and generally mean it.
I'm responsible only for myself, with no team, battle buddy, or unit to which I'm accountable. I am my own source of success or failure, and I've deployed so many times I'm good at it. Which of course sets up the punchline: I managed to leave ALL of my pre-deployment medical history/paperwork at home. *head!desk*
Turns out we get by with a little help from our friends, after all...
But the differences between then and now are many and powerful, if only in their symbolism. I have a hair cut with no stress to it. I have a beard (the remains of a hopeful hockey playoff beard, but I digress). When I go to work at 0700, I do so in jeans, a polo shirt, and tennis shoes. The Army guys call me "Sir," and generally mean it.
I'm responsible only for myself, with no team, battle buddy, or unit to which I'm accountable. I am my own source of success or failure, and I've deployed so many times I'm good at it. Which of course sets up the punchline: I managed to leave ALL of my pre-deployment medical history/paperwork at home. *head!desk*
Turns out we get by with a little help from our friends, after all...