Knee Deep in the Hooah!

Defeat and failure have been hot topics for discussion between Mr. Hooah! and myself lately. There are few things more difficult to a soldier than to be wounded or injured. Soldiers tend to be extremely focused and oriented to their task and to the goal of the mission. Whether it be on the battlefield or on the training ground, they know what is expected, what is needed for success, and they are driven — come hell or high water — to see that mission through. It is hard for civilians to totally understand this drive. I know how intense Army training is, but only in theory not in practice. I have never experienced it except vicariously through the candid discussions with my two soldiers. It’s incredible what they accomplish and learn in such a short period of time. It is not just skills they learn, but they also learn a new way of thinking. This reminds me of the Creed that our soldiers say when they graduate from BCT. In the Soldier’s Creed each soldier proudly and loudly proclaims “I will never accept defeat!” I posted here, back at the end of July, a video of my husband leading his Company through that Creed at graduation. Has he accepted defeat? Has he failed? Has he succumbed to weakness? These are the questions we have been asking ourselves, and the answers are becoming more and more clear to me.

As I have been thinking through these issues of injury and weakness — injury and defeat — I have often noticed how hard it is for some people to be around someone who is wounded or injured. I think a lot of this has to do with the fact that when someone sustains an injury that is truly not due to anything that could have been prevented, that person becomes a stark and shining example of our human condition. It’s funny though, because a man who has been injured can also be the largest source of inspiration around when he is recovered! We need to see the hope for recovery and redemption. The hard truth is we are not machines. Soldiers are not machines. They are strong, able, capable and confident men. I think that they are so strong and so determined that sometimes it is easy to forget that they too are susceptible to human maladies. We forget, that is, until they are injured, wounded or even worse, killed. In the wake of injury or death the truth of their beating hearts and their human frailness comes crashing down around us. I don’t think that the forgetfulness of their susceptibility is done out of callousness, but honestly I sometimes forget because I am simply impressed with, and taken by, their dedication and their drive. I see a quality in them that I want to emulate. I see a quality in my soldiers that literally can take my breath away at times. It makes me proud, and that is what I focus on. Sometimes I hyper focus on their strength because to be honest with you, thinking of their human bodies in a war zone is simply to overwhelming.

When Mike was injured and then a week later, Bryan was injured, that pride I have always felt was still there (and remains very strong to this moment). The pride is more intermingled today with a very painful awareness of their vulnerability. Once again, as a military mother and a military wife, I am finding myself having to do this delicate and intricate dance between two very contrasting emotions. I am having to re-learn what I thought I knew about weakness, defeat and failure. I am having to re-learn what I thought I knew about pride, strength and courage. Once again I am having to re-learn what I thought I knew about my husband and myself. I think I said once before that misery is not always optional, but learning is. I am grateful that I am willing to learn — I have a feeling that “life long learning” is my unofficial MOS in this gig.

When Mr. Hooah! and I were discussing his injury we have had a hard time codifying exactly what it is we are dealing with on the level of defeat and failure. We both had not realized that before this serious injury we had somehow performed a secret marriage between finishing OCS on time and as planned with “success.” We had also decided tacitly that “success” in that manner would mean that “failure” would be not finishing OCS on time and as planned. Now that we are facing a serious time delay, and we both know possibly the doors to OCS are closing forever, has Mr. Hooah! failed at his mission? Has he accepted defeat? I really, honestly do not think so, and I think he is beginning to believe that too.

If defeat means essentially that something has overtaken you, owns you, and has mastered you then I do not see my husband’s injury as a form of defeat. If my husband were to allow this injury in and of itself to define his manhood, then that would be defeat. If my husband were to succumb to anger and bitterness over this injury and possible loss of opportunity, then he will have succumbed to defeat. Failure is when the goal is not met and other attempts are not executed until the goal has been attained. It occurs when a person is knocked down, and in instead of believing the goal can still be accomplished — but just in a different way, they simply throw their hands up in the air and raise the proverbial white flag of surrender.

I don’t see defeat and failure here in my home. Instead I see my husband constantly planning, problem solving and trying to figure this all out. He set out on this journey to be the best Soldier he could be. He set out on this journey to become the best Officer he could be. His mission is not complete, but it certainly is not over yet! He is only resting physically (and only then because he is smart enough to know that an act of bravado could land him with a more serious injury in the long run!) What I see before me is a soldier who is injured and healing. What I see is a soldier who is aching to run, train and jump back into the game full swing. What I see is a soldier who has moments of discouragement because he has to accept these inconvenient human limitations. Bones take time to heal. There is no way to rush it. Bones don’t heal from courage and strength, Mr. Hooah! If they did, you would have been running the day after your surgery. I have no doubts! I also know about defeat and failure a little more now, and I certainly do not see it when I look at you!

Tags: Junk Drawer //