Letting Go of the Uniform, Not the Lessons

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. 

What George Marshall Would Tell Today’s Leaders

by Aaron Childers

The military places a large amount of responsibility on young leaders from the moment they assume their positions.  This can be overwhelming at times, but it isn’t a modern problem.  In fact, some of the struggles that junior leaders face today plagued new Lieutenants, Captains, and Majors a century ago.  Leaders like George Marshall thought about, wrote about, and provided guidelines on how to navigate being a young leader.

George Marshall, the Army Chief of Staff during World War II, was the country’s first five-star general, a Secretary of State, the second Secretary of Defense, and a Nobel Peace Prize recipient for his plan to rebuild Europe after the war. He is credited with building the modern Army, which required molding an unready force of several hundred thousand into a combat-ready Army of 11 million people.  He cleared out the aging, post-World War I officers to make way for upcoming leaders like Bradley, Eisenhower, and Patton.  He desegregated the Army, revolutionized Army education, and oversaw the military transition from a depression-era, territorial Army into the Army that won WWII.  However, before he did all of this….he was a second lieutenant.  So, what advice would George Marshall give to young leaders? Based on his interviews and personal papers, we have an idea of what this great leader might say to us today.  

Know the Basics

George Marshall believed that leaders needed to be good at the basic requirements of their profession.  In a letter to the Commandant of the Virginia Military Institute, GEN Marshall’s Alma Mater, he answered the question,“What does a new officer need to know?”  Marshall replied that young leaders need “good common sense, that you have studied your profession, and are physically strong.”  Marshall, a major who had just returned from World War I, had seen how young leaders performed, or failed to perform. He would later call upon these experiences when he reformed the Infantry School as the Deputy Infantry Commandant.  One hundred years later, this advice remains solid.  Even if you lack experience, “common sense” goes a long way in the Army.  Pay attention to the courses in the Army’s officer education system–you will be surprised how many complex problems can be distilled down to concepts that were introduced in the Captains Career Course or the schooling you receive as a major.  The qualities listed by Marshall are still expected of all leaders. 

The Chase: The Powerful Spell Over Senior Military Members

By Kevin Buettner

Why are you chasing what you’re chasing, Senior Military Member? Yes you, the E-8, the E-9, the CW-4, the O-5, the O-6. I see your sacrifice, your late hours, your dedication–putting it all on the line. But have you ever stopped, picked your head up, and truly given thought to WHY you’re chasing what you’re chasing? Over my last three years in uniform, I talked to dozens of hard-charging Army Colonels about this very topic. What I found is that many have no idea “why.” Finding the answer is worth unpacking. 

Here’s the reality: once you get to 20 years of military service (plus or minus), every assignment you take gets harder. And not a little more difficult–it goes from 0 to 60 in a snap. The complexity of your personal life multiplies quickly. Moving when your kids are in elementary school is doable, but transplanting teenagers is complicated, if not heart-wrenching. This same season of life often also brings the responsibility to care for aging parents. You’re getting older, and continued service gets more difficult physically, mentally, and emotionally. But you still feel this urge to stay in the fight, to continue advancing your career. And honestly, good for you. The military needs the best leaders possible at the helm. No argument there. 

Just Write! A Message to Junior Officers and NCOs

by Mike Everett 

Army senior leaders want to hear what you have to say. You don’t have to take my word for it–General Randy George, the Army Chief of Staff, has been very clear about his call for Army leaders to put pen to paper. The Harding Project is the most recent tool, which uses multiple strategies to incentivize writing for publication. The Army needs you to be all you can be, including as a writer. But you’re not a writer… You’re not sure where to start… This call is for someone else, right? 

Wrong. I want to address some of your questions and concerns regarding writing for publication (AKA for the betterment of the Force). Below are some questions or misconceptions you may have when writing for an audience.

Leveraging Public Affairs for Information Advantage in Modern Warfare

By Jennifer Bocanegra

In today’s complex battlespace, the power of information can be as decisive as any weapon system. As a Public Affairs Officer (PAO) with over 15 years of experience in both Army and joint operations, I’ve witnessed first-hand how effective communication can shape the battlefield, influence adversaries, and achieve military objectives without firing a shot.

The Evolving Role of Public Affairs

Public affairs is no longer just about issuing press releases or managing media relations. Throughout my career, I’ve seen it evolve into a key component of information warfare. The Army’s newest information-related doctrinal publication, ADP 3-13, Information Advantage, recognizes information as a joint function, underscoring its critical role in modern warfare. This shift encourages us to reimagine “combined arms” for the digital age, integrating information operations across all domains.

Our role as public affairs professionals has expanded significantly. We’re now tasked with proactively developing and sharing information about operations, managing expectations, and maintaining transparency. In this way, strategic communications clarifies military objectives and maintains public support during complex operations. We’re not just telling our story; we’re actively shaping the information environment to support mission success.

Move Forward: A Battalion Commander’s Reflection on Failure and Perseverance

by LTC Liam Walsh

“Sir, we just found live rounds on one of our trailers.  We are gathering more information now.”  I received this message from my Battalion Executive Officer at 4:30PM on our second day in “The Box.” The Box is an immersive training area, complete with cities, civilians, and enemy combatants, meant to provide U.S. Army units with realistic combat training.   We had just transitioned from a live fire exercise into a force on force exercise at our Joint Readiness Training Center rotation, which required us to switch from live ammunition to blanks. Finding live rounds meant we hadn’t been thorough enough when making the switch, and that our soldiers were at risk of getting injured or killed during training. Nothing was going right.  I had been sitting on a log with my commander when I got the news, and felt a lump in my throat as I prepared to tell them how we had messed up yet again.

It was the final straw in a series of events that, when compiled, indicated an organization on the verge of collapse.  Over the previous 30 hours we’d lost a rifle, had three negligent discharges, had a $5M vehicle catch fire, and been in constant direct and indirect contact with the “enemy” forces.  I was at my wit’s end.  In my 18 months in command, I’d seen the battalion perform time and time again—including a wildly successful rotation at the National Training Center (NTC) just over a year prior. At NTC, we’d had the most successful urban attack they had seen in 18 unit rotations—yet here we were, struggling to do the most basic tasks.  I felt broken and defeated.  That night, the battalion walked across two rivers and caught the enemy by surprise.  Our Soldiers performed heroically and it looked like we would finally have a win.  Then during actions on the objective, two of my rifle companies were completely destroyed.  We’d failed.  I’d failed.