A recruiter and a strip mall
I never planned to join the Army. The recruiting station sat in the same strip mall as my ninjutsu school, and I walked past it all the time. One day a recruiter stopped me and asked why I was always around. I told him about martial arts, and he asked, “What if I could get you paid to be a martial artist?” He was the stereotypical recruiter, but he had my attention. I’d already finished high school and had no path in mind. My parents never talked about college, and no one in my family had gone, so nobody was guiding me.
I did very well on the ASVAB and had my pick of jobs. I chose 11C, infantry, without knowing what infantry meant. I found out at the reception station at Fort Benning, Georgia, and I hated it. I hadn’t signed up to go to war. On the call home, I begged my dad, in tears, to get me out. He asked one question: had I signed a contract? I said yes. “Then I’ll see you in four years.”
Expert marks
So I trained, and I did well: expert with the rifle, the pistol, and mortars. My math and science scores put me in mortars, and I loved that part: calculating trajectory, azimuth, elevation, and charges, and laying the aiming stakes, on the 60mm, the 81mm, and the four-deuce.
Two Marines walk in
Before we finished, two Marines in their Bravo uniforms walked into our company area. A crowd of soldiers had been talking and cleaning their weapons, and the moment those Marines appeared, everything stopped. Every eye locked on them. Soldiers who’d been proud of how far they’d come were suddenly envious. That’s when I realized I’d joined the wrong branch. I’d always gone after the next, harder challenge, and there it was.
Starting over
It took years to find a way. Once I was in the reserves, I found DD Form 368, a request to go from reserve to active duty. It asked which branch you were going to, not which one you were coming from. I found a recruiting station in Orlando, wrote a letter to the Commandant of the Marine Corps, proved my honorable discharge, and was accepted. At MEPS, before I was ever sworn in, I chose my job from what the Marine Corps needed: law. Then I gave up every bit of rank I’d earned and started over at Parris Island. The empty cup again.
The prosecution team
I worked in the law center at Cherry Point for the Special Assistant U.S. Attorney, on the prosecution team. Our cases were Marines who had done terrible things: courts-martial, the brig, discharges, prison. My last case was the death of an infant at the hands of his own father, a sergeant. That’s when I knew I didn’t want that kind of law. After the Marine Corps, I worked in probate, bankruptcy, corporate real estate, and other areas instead.
What I carried out
I didn’t come out with a single lesson. What I took was leadership, and that’s kept evolving. Businesses shouldn’t be run like the military, and the parts of business I love most, the creative, technical, and entrepreneurial parts, aren’t what the military teaches. But the principles of taking care of the people you lead carried over.
The military also taught me that it doesn’t matter whose picture is on the wall. Whoever the commander-in-chief is, your job doesn’t change and your life doesn’t change. The person in that chair doesn’t make or break a country. When I left the Marine Corps, I stopped owning a television, and I’ve filtered out the news ever since. More on that is on my politics page.