Ranger Regiment Ruined My Life

Rarely do I write with the intent to post. Most of my words are written so I might make some sense of my life. They are then shared in a fit of liquid courage or the realization that I must do what I preach. I say we are not alone, and we fail to share, so I reluctantly do so in the hopes it might matter to someone. For those who read the title and think, “Fuck you!,” let me nip this in the bud. Regiment ruined my life like driving the greatest car or eating the finest meat ruined driving and eating. Honestly, I think Regiment ruined my life like the first time someone shoots heroin. I have forever chased the dragon.

When I was young, I did not know any better. To me, I was a nobody among giants. Men who deserved more than this nation has, and will, ever give them. Yet, they asked for absolutely nothing in return (we all know a minority who act differently). We lived by the silent professional ethos. When I got out, I entered college, worked some part time jobs, and eventually landed in law enforcement. The truth is, I have forever been damaged by my time in Regiment. The saying always went, “Getting in was the easy part, staying in was the hard part.”  I came in during the height of GWOT. Surges, extensions, aggressive op tempos, it was awesome, but it ruined me.

I was part of an organization that could force anyone out at any time, regardless of rank. I never knew how cutting edge our equipment was, how adaptive our organization was, or how much I would miss the debates. In our digital age I have heard so many interviews from so many amazing people. Over and over, I hear about how fundamental Regiment was to their experience. I have spoken to, and listened to, Delta Operators who talk about how much they missed Regiment. To be honest, I was a hit it and quit it guy. I did my four and bounced when the average time someone spent in Regiment was three years. It was hard for me to imagine these guys who spent decades in THE tier 1 unit talking about Regiment like that. Over and over, it always comes up. I have heard people with illustrious careers in the military and civilian world also go back to their time in Regiment. It has taken me almost a decade to realize how lucky I was and why that sentiment is so ubiquitous.

In the civilian world, there is hardly ever a silent professional. They are overshadowed by the self-serving loudmouth. There is hardly ever a rigidly enforced standard, let alone a standard that makes it harder to stay in than get in.  It is actually quite the opposite, like a parasite, once you are in, it is almost impossible to remove you. Paying out of pocket, I realize how fucking lucky I was to have the gear I had. To be around during the rapid evolution of gear and technology. To have been lucky enough to test concepts that are now industry standards in countless fields. To be around people who put their money where their mouths were. To not only debate tactics, techniques, and really anything, but apply them in a battle of minds to prove which ones were better and then accept the results. Yes, there were egos, but in the end, the facts outweighed opinions, and nothing was applied on target that was not methodically and painstakingly tested.  Every test designed to identify the failure point, because there is always a failure point.  What survived were the techniques most likely to succeed. 

I once thought we adapted slowly… holy fucking shit, I was so lucky. I remember testing and adapting multiple different approaches in just those four years. Tactics that, over a decade later, my current organization is just now CONSIDERING, despite the over decade of it being industry standard. I remember a common sentiment, “I don’t have to fucking like you, I have to fucking trust you.” I find myself in a world were liability trumps trustability. Where we refrain from speaking the truth because we do not want to hurt feelings, even if it means costing lives.

In Regiment, I never looked over my shoulder. I never wavered from my sector of fire. I already knew all I needed to know. Now, I spend more time glancing than I do focusing. I hear a nagging concern with every step, affirmed by the recent events when I was left by my partner. An abusive childhood, four deployments, multiple firefights, and almost a decade on the job, I felt a fear I had never felt before. I just assumed I was about to get shot in the back of the head as my cover left me, alone. To get shot with my back turned instead of facing my enemy because I placed my trust in someone I should not have.  So much so, the random text to my wife, “I love you,” brought her an immediate alarm she had only felt the day I was charged.

To be clear, Regiment is not for everyone, and it is not an easy life. In only a few years everyone walks away with physical injuries that will plague them for their entire life. The stress and pressure to always perform is astounding.  In the moment, you fail to realize that. The constant rotating deployments and training cycles during GWOT, the subsequent friends killed in action, on training events, and later to suicide have left my every relationship with an asterisk. There is a reason, actually a series of reasons, special operations soldiers have a higher rate of suicide than their peers.  I struggle with moments of depression and anger about it all. I make that very obvious in many of my writings. I knew staying in it would be difficult for me to have the potential family life I desired, and I could never have the life I have now if I was still in. I do not anyone to get a purely romantic view of what life in Regiment, or really any special operations unit, is like.

Regiment ruined my life.  It has left me chasing comradery I will likely never find again. It has left me seeing the greatest potential in everything and everyone, only to frustrate me when they fall short. I am no longer surrounded by the self-motivated giants I would trust, regardless of our personal distain. I am no longer in a world where the best tested argument wins. In those ways and many more, Regiment has ruined my life. 

However, Regiment also showed me what was possible. It showed me what true leadership looks like.  It gave me things to aspire to and the dedication to see things through. It has given me the resilience to take my lashing while still moving forward. Regiment has also given me something so few could ever argue against.  Others see it as a title, but I see it as an experience. To them, it is hard to argue with the Ranger, but to me, being a Ranger has given me the experience to share the real-world consequences and principles bestowed upon me. For that, Regiment has given me the greatest gift. The gift to change things, to try and lead, to be an example in the hopes things can improve. 

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This first appeared in The Havok Journal on September 9, 2024.

Jake Smith is a law enforcement officer and former Army Ranger with four deployments to Afghanistan.

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.