What Was It All For?

I visited with two of my brothers on Saturday. All three of us are retired. As we sat around, we eventually discussed our previous lives in the workforce. Each of us followed a different path, and now we have time to reflect on what it was all about. What was the point? What did we accomplish, if anything?

We talked a bit about what guidance counselors told us to do while we were in high school. It’s remarkable that what they told us fifty years ago is pretty much what they tell young people now. It’s the same focus on finding a career and fitting into the system. The counselors wanted to help, and maybe they did, and maybe they do now. The narrative was about working hard and getting ahead. The term “getting ahead” was never clearly defined. I think it’s still an ambiguous concept.

I remember a few things from my first days at West Point. One event that sticks in my memory is how all 1,400 of us new cadets were herded into Eisenhower Hall to hear the superintendent give a talk. He spoke briefly about how we had chosen our class motto, “Pride and Excellence.” Then he went on about the possibilities of our careers as military officers. He said at one point:

“One of you sitting here may become the General of the Army someday.”

I suspect that everybody in that auditorium had a momentary vision of future glory. The supe had dangled a shining goal in front of us. There was a second part of his statement that he never mentioned. The last part was:

“But the rest of you won’t be.”

In retrospect, it feels like a classic bait and switch. Recruiters in the high schools do a similar sort of thing. They regale impressionable high school students with tales of adventure and hawk other benefits, but they don’t often discuss the costs involved in becoming a soldier.

I know this because an Army recruiter came into our home many years ago to lure our youngest son into the service. This was back when things were intense in Iraq. Our son ultimately chose not to join up, even after the sergeant gave us a smooth sales pitch. The recruiter’s problem was that I kept fact-checking him. My son found that to be amusing.

It’s not just the military that sells job openings like used cars. Corporate America does the same thing. Once I left the Army, I got a job as a supervisor at a trucking company. One of the selling points for the position was that there was plenty of room for promotion. That was true, but there was upward mobility within the company because middle managers were being continually culled for failure to meet absurdly high profit quotas. It was a Darwinian kind of work environment. The corporation’s unofficial motto was “We eat our young.” The company went bankrupt several years ago. Karma in action.

I went to work with a second trucking firm, one that was comparatively benign. After a couple of years there, I was offered the opportunity to get trained for a position as operations manager. I respectfully declined the possible promotion. I knew from experience that operations managers had to relocate, their workload increased, and they all had a target on their back. It wasn’t worth it.

I was at this company for almost twenty-eight years. I spent most of those years working third shift. As I look back, I think about how much time and energy I put into my job. Was it worth all the effort? I don’t know. I was able to take care of my family. A lot of people never get to do that. I am fortunate in that sense.

Now, my kids have their own challenges, and their struggles are very much like mine were. They work their asses off to take care of other people. Are their jobs meaningful? Maybe. They take pride in their work. They do what they have to do.

I wonder what they will think years from now.

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Frank (Francis) Pauc is a graduate of West Point, Class of 1980. He completed the Military Intelligence Basic Course at Fort Huachuca and then went to Flight School at Fort Rucker. Frank was stationed with the 3rd Armor Division in West Germany at Fliegerhorst Airfield from December 1981 to January 1985. He flew Hueys and Black Hawks and was next assigned to the 7th Infantry Division at Fort Ord, CA. He got the hell out of the Army in August 1986.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.