By Joe Byerly
I recently grabbed a drink with some friends in Southern Pines, NC. As I sat sipping my beer, one of them turned to me and asked, “Now that you are at the very end of your military career, was it worth it?'”
He and his wife are only a few years into their own careers. They were trying to imagine what another decade-plus of service would mean for their lives, both personally and professionally. Looking ahead can be a daunting task for sure, especially at the beginning.
Without hesitation, I looked up and said, ‘Yes, it was worth it.’ But then I added a crucial caveat: ‘For me, it was worth it.’
I signed my contract in the winter of 2000. I signed it because I saw an opportunity to improve my lot in life and I could do it in a way that was viewed as honorable. I had no plans to make it a career.
My 20 years in the Army weren’t just one career—they were several. I had the privilege of experiencing and contributing in numerous roles: platoon leader, commander, executive officer, chief of operations, coach, planner, teacher, writer, and student. I held these roles in the Northwest, the Deep South, the Northeast, Europe, at the foot of the Rockies, and in Iraq and Afghanistan.
With each job I learned more about the Army and how to lead, and most importantly, I learned more about myself. I reflected on each experience, and in turn I got clues to who I was and who I was becoming.
I don’t think any of us know who we are when we first become adults. It’s up to us to live a life that allows us to explore that question. The Army gave me that opportunity.
I lived life in six-month increments, focusing on the time between the end of the holiday leave window to the start of summer leave, and vice versa. I made the most of each and every single vacation window. By breaking it down this way, I avoided feeling overwhelmed by the enormity of a 20-year career in the Army.
Life happened along the way—I got married and became a father. With these changes, my values shifted. Things I once enjoyed no longer appealed to me, and new interests emerged that I never thought I would pursue. I let go of the ambition to chase medals, promotions, and positions, and in the process, I rediscovered my passion for writing and helping others. Thankfully, I started to pay attention to these things before it was too late.
All of this happened across deployments, economic downturns, housing market crashes, followed by market bubbles. Not once did I have to worry about a paycheck or healthcare. I got to focus on living life.
The Army gave me the opportunity to grow and develop in relative financial safety, which someone like me appreciated.
It wasn’t easy—there were countless struggles and challenges. I faced moments, both in my personal and professional lives, where I wasn’t quite sure I would make it through. I messed up a lot. The goodbyes were the toughest. The memorial ceremonies still weigh on me, lingering in my thoughts long after the final salute. But in serving, I could connect most of those struggles to a higher purpose: “to support and defend the Constitution of the United States.” And if I’m being honest with myself, the very experiences that challenged me the most are the ones that shaped me the most.
There were times when I could have walked away, pursued something different, made more money. But every time I imagined that alternate reality, it just didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel right in the moment, and it still doesn’t seem like it would have fit. It took me a long time to discover my purpose: To help others lead with the best version of themselves. And that journey was as much about discovery as it was about military service.
The Army wasn’t a perfect boss. I watched people get promoted who didn’t deserve it and saw other well-deserving leaders’ careers end too soon. There were times I worked for toxic leaders who made coming to work agonizing. At different periods, my future plans were derailed by an unforeseen deployment or a last minute training. On several occasions my personal life was upended by a passing comment made by a senior leader, quickly turned into an order by an overeager staff officer who was ready to impress.
But even with all of that, I chose to continue to serve.
About three years ago, I made the decision to retire after completing squadron command this summer. I wanted to leave on a high note, while I was still content with my Army career. I recognized that continuing to serve no longer aligned with my evolving values and life circumstances. I wanted to invest more time in From the Green Notebook and other writing ventures, as writing allows me to live a life of service and self-discovery. Retiring would also give my son the opportunity to stay in the same high school for all four years, and it would allow me to be more present for him, both physically and mentally.
The decision was much easier than I thought it would be.
We each live our own journeys, and what is true for one person may not be true for another. Often, our personal choices lead us down a mixture of dead ends, shortcuts, and maybe, if we’re lucky, some wide-open highways. My experiences in the military are deeply personal, and so, too, is my answer.
For me, it was worth it—but that’s a decision everyone must make for themselves. I came in when I was supposed to and I left on time.
As I reflect back on my service, I realize that it’s not the accolades or the titles that truly matter. It’s the journey itself that defines the worth—the failures that taught me, the successes that encouraged me, the friends I met, the lives I touched, and the people who helped me along the way. And for me, that’s what made it all worthwhile.
Joe Byerly is the founder and director of From the Green Notebook. He officially retires from the U.S. Army on August 31, 2024. If this post resonated with you or sparked any questions, feel free to reach out to him at Joe@fromthegreennotebook.com.
