By Joe DeCree This first appeared in Britta's blog, "Life After War" and is republished with permission. Why do we need hope? Everything alive Continue Reading
Veterans
Bittersweet Reflection
I stand on the precipice of change. I have spent over half a decade pursuing this dream that now feels all but inevitable. As I stand here, its taste Continue Reading
BuildNow: Why America’s AI Future Depends on Veterans and the Workforce We Choose to Build
By Mike Sarraille and Kirk Offel As artificial intelligence accelerates global competition, the United States faces a defining question: Can we Continue Reading
Their Weight and Scars
I feel empty without them. I feel wrong. I feel as if something is missing. The skin where they resided lighter, having blocked the sun for Continue Reading
Perceived Distinction or Infamy
When you enter a room, your every action and every word judged not by their realities, but the juxtaposition of the perceived distinction or Continue Reading
Echoes in the Wind
My son is on spring break this week, and he’ll be three at the end of the month. I work an odd schedule that sometimes gives me Tuesday afternoons Continue Reading
Complexity in a False Binary World
The more we learn about the world around us, the more we learn how complex it truly is. The more we figure out and understand, the more there is that Continue Reading
Where Duty Turns to Doubt
Dearest Mom, The hardest thing about writing these letters is the fact that I can’t really talk about anything I do. It makes for rather dry Continue Reading
Smoke Over MSR One
On May 31, 2008, my squad was assigned as the Quick Reaction Force (QRF) for eastern Afghanistan in Nangarhar Province. While turning in documents at Continue Reading
The Day After We Forgot
The skies were empty. It was calm, savagely serene. There was an ominous foreboding in the wind. None of us knew what to do, but we knew nothing would Continue Reading
What the Air Force Took and What It Left Behind
I saw her in the pre-op holding area one day, and her usual composure was gone. “Are you OK?” I asked. She didn’t answer. She stared past Continue Reading
Ride Along
By Evan Young Weaver A late 1960s, used, white-top, tan-bodied Toyota FJ Troopy. That’s what my dad drove. The dog was Hairy Ass Trueman by name Continue Reading