The Cost of Living
“The most precious commodity with which the Army deals is the individual soldier who is the heart and soul of our combat forces.” —General J. Lawton Collins
Young men find themselves lost in a world where the challenges that once dominated their daily lives no longer exist. In a world where the need to search for sustenance and fight each day for survival is but a thing of the past for most, where do you put that energy?
Like most of the boys in my school, I thrived in chaos, looking to create it wherever it didn’t exist. I grew up reading about great adventures and watching films of brave heroes who fought in iconic conflicts.
In my mind, there was only one thing I could ever imagine being — a soldier.
Maybe it was the movies, or Call Of Duty, or perhaps some of the Army’s poorly put-together advertisement campaigns had been more successful than I had thought, but regardless, they got me.
I left for the Army preparing to fight in the wadis of Afghanistan or in the concrete jungles of Iraq. There was no thought of a ‘just war’, I just wanted to fight. But when I showed up to my first platoon as a starry-eyed 18-year-old, there was no war for me to go to.
In its place was sweeping, studying handouts, pranks, and rucking — a lot of rucking.
Those of who missed the war were referred to as ‘cherries’ a reference to the thing that we hadn’t popped. We were ‘less than’ in that world, and deservedly so. Our seniors were trying to prepare us for a thing so volatile that our young minds couldn’t possibly comprehend it through words.
The men who taught us what we knew were giants, gods amongst men for the badge across their chests and the patch upon their shoulders. But in reality, they were kids, 19 to 22 years old, and thrust into this world we now called home with a rifle and a couple of months of training.
My first team leader was a young man named Robert Chick from Castle Rock, Washington. Rob had spent his first few years as a trumpet player in the Army band before making his way to the Infantry where he eventually deployed to Afghanistan. It was a joke around the platoon to make new privates ask Rob if he had really been a trumpet player and aside from the pushups he’d make you do, he was a good sport about it.
Rob died in 2020, at age 28, in a boating accident, making him 20 when I met him in 2012. I thought he was a grown man, a hero.
Shortly after Rob left Alaska, I got a new team leader who we referred to as Poch. The guys loved him and it didn’t take long for the leadership to see he wasn’t being used to his full potential and promote him to squad leader. Scott Harmeyer, a young sergeant who had been in Afghanistan twice with the 101st Airborne Division, took his place.
Scott had to have been nearly 6 foot 4 inches and was strong as an ox. He was the first person to sit me down and ask me what I wanted to do with my career in the Army. I told him that I just wanted to be a good soldier and that I loved being an infantryman.
As a young soldier, I was insecure. I always had to be loud, had to make jokes, and be the center of attention. My self-awareness of who I was in the moment and who I was around always made me feel less than, but Scott saw through that.
Scott got me into the leadership course for young Non-commissioned Officers and helped me learn what I lacked on the tactical side of our job while giving me small responsibilities to help me develop.
He was my team leader for six months before he picked up Staff Sergeant and left for a different platoon the day I became a Sergeant.
On August 1, 2016, Scott took his own life at the age of 26.
Every now and then, I go to read his obituary and I’m shocked to see how young he was. I’m nearly 30 now and sometimes feel young and confused about my future. I thought Scott, who was 23 when we met, had it all figured out. Although we weren’t close friends he was one of my heroes, and he still is.
Along with these two men, there are a few others from my first unit who also died, I’ll list them now.
Zach Scragg, Barboursville, WV, 30 - Overdose
Dmitry McClintock, California, 29 - Suicide
Danzel Atkins, Houston, TX, 31- Murdered
Vincent Testa, Youngstown, OH, 27 - Drowned
There are others, of course, but these are the ones I think of the most. Each one of their lives taught me something different.
We all wanted the same thing. To get away from our old lives and to make something new for ourselves. Most of us did.
Human life is a commodity — we must cherish it.