If My Kids Ask About Joining the Military
It’s the day after July 4th (aka July 5th). Amidst yesterday’s fireworks and cookout, I found myself pondering: how would I feel if my kids consider joining the military?
I have a few days off work, allowing me precious time with family and a chance to do things I love but struggle to find time for, like reading and writing. Sometimes it all comes together simultaneously—I drafted part of this while flanked by kids who were immersed in vacation-level screen time.
It’s in this environment that I read a Wall Street Journal article on veterans’ increasing hesitancy to encourage their kids to join the military (written by Ben Kesling, who also authored Bravo Company, which I highly recommend). This hesitancy coincides with severe recruitment issues all branches are facing. The Marine Corps is the only branch to hit its target last year—‘rah?
The situation is dire. Some believe that the return of the draft is inevitable, even as we celebrate the 50th anniversary of our all volunteer force.
Familial connections to the military have long been a core source of fresh recruits. According to that WSJ article, some 80% of soldiers have a family member who served in the military. But those connections can cut both ways—if family members don’t feel their service was worthwhile, they could in fact be less likely to recommend relatives to join. The Afghanistan withdrawal led so many of us to wonder if our service really helped at all, and that could be having a significant impact on family referrals.
These articles, combined with my ongoing reflections on what it means to be dad, made me wonder what I would say if one or both of my sons said they wanted to enlist (or *gasp* commission).
It isn’t a matter of whether I’d “let” them do so. By the time they’re 18, the choice is legally theirs. And if they want to enlist at 17, I’d propose to my partner that we do exactly what my parents did: make me think about it for an additional month after I had made up my mind, and then sign the parental release without further question if I still felt the same way once the month was up.
But could I in good conscience encourage them to join? After all, my enlistment permanently broke my body, and I will forever deal with moral injury and a nagging question of whether my service was a net positive in the world.
If I could to do it all over again, would I enlist?
Yes.
The copout justification here is that my military experience “made me who I am today,” so of course I’d do it again. That’s true, but there’s more to it than that.
I’ve never quite found the words to adequately explain this, but despite the biting consequences I mentioned above, I am unfailingly proud of having served. It seems logically inconsistent to be proud of something you continually question, but this is my reality. Chalk it up to some type of enduring cognitive dissonance, I suppose.
Reflecting on yesterday’s star-spangled holiday, Tom Nichols wrote, “we [Americans] are bound to one another in one of the greatest and most noble experiments in human history. Our destiny together, stand or fall, is inescapable.”
My kids, too, are unwillingly part of this American experiment. And if they feel compelled to serve to play their role in it, who am I to stand in their way? I will, of course, do my due diligence to make sure the recruiter isn’t blowing too much smoke. I will also share with them in detail my own struggles with and reflections on service, including the perplexing but unmistakable pride of it all.
It will be up to them if they listen.