The calm was almost eerie in the 1st Battalion, 34th Infantry Regiment basic training dining hall on Fort Jackson, South Carolina, that late November day. We were in the final few days of the boot camp experience in late 2003, each one separated from our families to endure a shared experience that—at points along the way—made us wonder why we volunteered for this. Despite the toned-down experience of "relaxin’ Jackson," compared to what I heard was a stiffer culture for basic training at Fort Benning and Fort Sill, it was still no walk in the park. The drill sergeants worked us hard and offered ample tastes of the stereotypical experience the public sees in movies like Full Metal Jacket. I reminded myself each morning that the goal was not to get through the month or week, but through this single day.
There were plenty of physical and mental stressors during boot camp, and rightly so. The experience is designed to build strength, physical courage, and resilience through challenge, to transform individuals into effective members of a team. The drill sergeants for my platoon were accomplished at this task. I came to respect them quickly and occasionally wonder where they are now. Normally, they pushed us through the next training event with a well-developed arsenal of time-tested psychological techniques. One of them was making our eating time a purely utilitarian function. We had seven minutes to down each meal: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. When the timer hit zero, chow time was done, whether you were or not. But it was Thanksgiving, and things were different.
I walked into the dining hall to see not only drill sergeants, but the battalion commander and command sergeant major, company commanders, and first sergeants lined up behind the food counter in dress uniform. These people who usually added stress to most waking moments now put the turkey and sides on our plate with a sense of kindness. The dining hall was decorated, a first I had seen a glimpse of cheer in that normally bland space. Scowls were replaced by smiles. The timekeeper was given a break this day. It dawned on me that not only were we recruits away from our families, but so were these veterans tasked with preparing us to take the next watch. For the first time, it started to dawn on me that both the trainers and the trainees had something in common. I looked at them differently going forward.
My very next Thanksgiving was spent away from home as well, this time at Camp Arifjan in southern Kuwait. My unit, the 14th Public Affairs Detachment, was deployed to support the 3rd Army forward headquarters as the insurgency raged to the north in Iraq. We worked free from fear of bullets and bombs, our biggest trial being long hours in a headquarters unit with too many officers on hand. Things slowed down this Thanksgiving as well. Again, the base dining halls were festive. Turkeys were carved. The work pace relaxed for a bit. A small sense of the homeland traditions we hoped to be protecting could be felt. Though far from home, this wonderful American tradition of pausing to be grateful remained alive among a truly diverse grouping of Americans sharing this holiday as brethren in arms.
I left the Army in 2023. But when it comes to this Thanksgiving, the Army didn’t leave me. Today I’m home, and my eldest son is the one deployed. We will miss having him and his lovely bride stop by the house to share in food and games. Whatever kind of Thanksgiving fare he experienced on the remote base, it happened before I woke up this morning. I was away for many holidays during his childhood. Now he is the one serving in a far-off land. It leaves me wondering what will be similar and different about our experiences as veterans who walked the desert sands.
The adage goes that our troops are deployed to keep us safe. I increasingly doubt that line’s credibility given the lack of a clear relationship between overseas U.S. military operations and a coherent national security strategy. Yet there is still something distinct about Americans who voluntarily leave the comforts of home for the military lifestyle. Many do it for noble purposes, others out of need, and some out of questionable ambition. Both heroes and despots are scattered around the ranks. Yet all have in common doing something that most of our countrymen won’t, even in the best of command and geo-political climates. I would like to think that should be a binding tie for each veteran, despite clear evidence of late that some forget their oath and abuse the uniform to score cheap political points. Fortunately for all of us, most choose to retain their honor for a lifetime.
Today, I am thankful that God continues offering undeserved bounty to us as Americans. I’m grateful for the time I spent wearing the uniform of a United States soldier, and satisfied to be on to a new chapter in life as a full citizen. I’m glad to have good memories even of Thanksgiving days away from home, made special by veterans who added to their sacrifice in serving up our turkey and dressing. Despite my contention that an unaccountable war department is undeserving of good people, I’m glad to know that many of them serve still. One is particularly on my mind this Thanksgiving Day.
Editor's Note: Thanks to President Trump and Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth's leadership, the warrior ethos is coming back to America's military.
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