By: Joshua Risner
In the Right Place
I turned 15 on 9/11. I was raised in a patriotic household in rural America, by a family that valued and demonstrated service to others, to the community, and to the Nation. Like so many others, 9/11 was the catalyst for my entry into the military, albeit several years later, once the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq became old news in the national psyche.
From the very first ROTC field exercise I took part in, I knew I was in the right place. I gravitated towards the structure, purpose, and sense of camaraderie the Army offered. After commissioning and graduating flight school, I was fortunate to become a flight platoon leader and deploy to Afghanistan. The challenges, failures, and successes of leadership kept me engaged and fulfilled. Company command–again in a flight company, and again in Afghanistan–was even better. I was blessed with an amazing company of talented and hard-working people that gave me reason to endure the more unsavory aspects of Army life. I will forever cherish the bonds I formed with my Soldiers during command.
..and Then It Changed
However, as my career progressed, I chafed at the unmet expectations and mind-numbing aspects of the Army: clueless higher headquarters (or so I thought), endless time wasted, being treated like a child, and being expected to treat other adults like children. The usual. That said, I did my best to stay committed to my people despite the temptation to phone it in. I tolerated bureaucracy as well, or as poorly, as anyone else.
That was, until the onset of my field grade years. I attended the Command and General Staff Officer Course (CGSOC) at Fort Leavenworth in 2020. As you might recall, the Army and Department of Defense at large did not exactly exude compassion or understanding during that time. Although I escaped relatively unscathed, I witnessed truly needless inconveniences and outright chicanery toward many other people. These experiences put an increasingly bitter taste in my mouth. Further, the CGSOC was an underwhelming experience. It was like living each day in a relationship built upon gaslighting and irony. I came to grips with how little the institution seemed to truly value independent thought, and was glad to graduate and head to my next duty station.
The move to my following duty station brought about the typical stressors, but also the news that my wife and I were expecting our fourth child. Happy news, overall. Except the fact that the second half of my wife’s pregnancy happened to coincide with the four months I would spend in Eastern Europe on the tail end of an Atlantic Resolve rotation. Being my first trip to Europe, I expected plentiful training opportunities to learn from Allied militaries and the opportunity to sharpen my organizational leadership.
That expectation came to a screeching halt when my first discussion with the section’s NCO consisted of topics such as where everyone flocked to on the weekends, the best stores at the mall to pick up a track suit, the cleanest bars, the best sushi joints, and oh yeah… something about a training event next month in Germany. But we were not going to have too much of a role to play, “thankfully.” The fact that 25% of the time I spent in Eastern Europe comprised of weekends and scheduled days off was demoralizing. To me, it was priceless time with my pregnant wife and three young children that I would never get back.
Moment of Clarity
After redeployment and witnessing my son’s birth, I began experiencing a terrible, gnawing sensation I could not shake. Chalking some of it up to stress and some of it up to the life event that is childbirth, I initially did my best to ignore it and carry on. But this was different. I found myself in a deeper and deeper funk, unable to process what I was feeling. One night while talking to my wife I finally said the words that changed it all: “I don’t think I want to be in the Army anymore.” I had always (half) jokingly said that the Army was my Plan B until I figured out what my Plan A was. Well, it was time to find out.
My wife and I discussed our future, considering the usual factors. Finances, geography, career choice, timing, and not serving another seven years until retirement were common topics. So were the years I would regain with my family, the freedom that comes with escaping the Army’s clutches, my health and sanity, and the chance to exercise self-agency and act on my convictions. So, once all the paperwork, dust, and tears settled, I resigned from the Army and walked away with my DD214 after 13 years, five months, and 29 days of honorable (but, somehow ‘unqualified’) service to the U.S. Army.
In the Rear View
Looking back, I can honestly say I would not change a thing. I have zero regrets from my time in service. I also have no regrets after resigning. A year and a half removed from my final day in the Army, I am no longer staring down the barrel of the next training center rotation or deployment. I have also experienced the bliss of requesting a week (or more) of vacation and having it approved within 30 seconds, all from my phone. No questions asked other than, “So where are you and the family headed to?” Amazing.
I will always value my military service. It contributed significantly to who I am today; the adaptability I learned helped me successfully exit the Army and assume civilian life within a matter of months. I am deeply grateful for the moments of brotherhood, life-lessons, successes, and failures I experienced in uniform. Even so, I would not trade the remaining years I have with my wife and children for a rank, title, position, or retirement check. I am grateful to my younger self for developing and retaining an identity entirely separate from the institution of the Army–an institution not designed to consider what comes after a term of service for the individual. I am thankful I did not define my worth as an officer solely by whether or not I became a battalion or brigade commander. Walking away from the Army when I knew in my heart and soul that it was the right thing to do for my family is a decision I would make again, without hesitation. It is my earnest hope that sharing my experience might make that same decision a little bit easier for someone else, too.
Joshua Risner was an Aviation officer, company commander, ROTC instructor, operations and executive officer, and professional soap-boxer. He is currently learning to appreciate civilian life, fatherhood, and being a leader out of uniform. Josh’s roots are in the Midwest, where he intends to return with his family.
