2 Overview of Personal Leadership Experience

Overview of Personal Leadership Experience: Military Career Option
1
At the time of this writing my military career is currently ongoing and is probably best
summed up in one word: atypical. I use that word because the simple fact is that I’ve been both
Active Duty and in the Reserves. Even more unusual is the fact that I’ve worn the uniform of
three military branches: Marine Corps, Army, and Navy. When people ask me what branch did I
serve in, I smile and reply, “I haven’t been in the Air Force.”
Why all three? Why not stick to one? Just trying them all out? All are common questions
I’m asked. The answer to the last question is a simple, “No.” The answers to the first two are
rather simple and run together. In their simplest form the answer is, “I was young, naïve, and a
little stupid. I had no idea I was making such a huge mistake with the best of intentions.”
Presumably like most, leaving for basic training was the first time in my life that I had
left home. I was to spend three months in sunny Marine Corps Recruit Depot (MCRD), San
Diego. My recruiter told me that the experience would open my eyes to the ways of the world
and that I would learn to do great things. He was right.
After I had completed all of my requisite training: basic training, Marine Combat
Training (MCT), and Military Occupational Specialty (MOS) school; I arrived at my first duty
station, Marine Corps Air Station (MCAS) Yuma, Arizona, and I still didn’t know how to drive a
car. Having been in school for so long, I thought I had an idea of what life in Yuma would be
like, I was wrong.
I managed to hit the Fleet so fast I hadn’t even been in the Marine Corps the minimum
six months that grant the virtually automatic promotion to Private First Class (Pfc) that when I
arrived on deck in Yuma, I was in for a shock. I had arrived to an environment in which there
was so much tension in the air, one could not help but to feel it. I watched, in absolute horror, as

2
this Lance Corporal (LCpl.) ran around and complete senseless tasks to some absurd standard of
perfection. He would later become my friend and mentor and I would, later still, learn that my
arrival to the unit coincided with the execution phase of his Non-Judicial Punishment (NJP).
As a Private (Pvt.) the responsibilities and duties assigned to me were minimal, I mostly
prepared the office area for business during the day, answered the phone during the lunch hour,
and closed the office at night. Then one day I had the nerve to question my Staff Sergeant (SSgt.)
regarding my station and asked him if I couldn’t have more responsibility because I was afraid
I’d phone-watch my way to Corporal (Cpl.), he eventually complied with my request.
Shortly thereafter, my Gunnery Sergeant (GySgt.) called me into his office and told me
that he had heard of my complaint. He asked me if I had a driver’s license; I told him yes, but
that I hadn’t driven since taking driver’s education. My first responsibility was to be made the
duty driver for the month. This meant that I worked one day on and one day off, a shift being 24
hours. I was at the beck and call of anyone requiring official transportation for the fulfillment of
their duties. This also meant that the duty vehicle was to always be parked in its designated
parking spot, as that was the cue as to its status, there was no excuse or authorized deviation
from this.
I’ll never forget, as it really is comical, this one particular Sunday morning. My previous
warning to my GySgt. regarding my limited driving experiences must’ve really saved my bacon
when I would later pull my ‘stunt’. The parking lot was deserted and our normal Toyota truck,
two-seater, duty vehicle had engine troubles, meaning it was disabled and in its’ designated
parking spot. As a replacement we had a 15 passenger van that we were to have until repairs on
the Toyota could be completed. With an empty parking lot, I could’ve parked that van anywhere

3
and no one would know. However, I heard in my head, my GySgt and he actually once told me
that if the duty vehicle were ever to be disabled, its’ replacement will be parked adjacent to it.
So, the young Marine that I was, I knew what I was supposed to do, I just wasn’t successful.
The following Monday, Gunny (a nickname for GySgt.) called me into his office, furious.
I had managed to hit the Toyota, taking out a taillight and denting a side door. My mistake had
damaged government property and was going to cost a lot of money, in addition to the
paperwork that he would have to do. He pushed me hard against the wall, got into my face, and
yelled; asking me what was I thinking. I repeated back to him my warning and his instructions
and he simply dismissed me from his office with a grin.
September 11, 2001 happened just two months after I had been promoted to Cpl.
and after I had barely been in the Marine Corps for two years. I was actually running a few
minutes late to work that day when my phone (not a cell, but one attached to a wall) in my room
rang. It was my Lieutenant (Lt.) wanting to know where I was and if I was okay, I thought I was
in some sort of trouble. He quickly explained to me what just happened, told me to turn on a
television, and to get into the office when I could. We had our first office meeting that day.
By this time I had a new Gunny and a Master Sergeant (MSgt.), also called Top. Both
had actually arrived while I was still a LCpl. and I feel are responsible for transforming me from
the sniveling civilian I once was and into the Marine and professional I consider myself to be.
Gunny came first, and took me under his wing. In fact, things were so slow before 9/11 that he
used to try and do things around the office and I wouldn’t let him, explaining to him that it was
my responsibility to complete the task and his responsibility to supervise. I remember he once
told me that knew there was a reason why he liked having me around.

4
Top was a little different. He was actually one of my instructors when I was at MOS
school. He used to call me on a weekly basis (before he arrived in Yuma) and ask me what’s
going on and how I was doing. By the time he finally arrived, it was like I already knew him and
he too took me under his wing as well. I used this relationship to my advantage. Rather than
simply grumble when given a task, which I did plenty of that too, I would contemplate most on
the why and how of the task. When I was finished, I’d report back to Top and tell him I was done
and would then ask questions for my own clarification. He shared with me a plethora of
knowledge that I would latter come to rely upon.
I would spend two and a half years in Yuma, eventually becoming promoted to Cpl. In
that time I became a member of a unit. In that time when the phone that I used to watch rang, it
eventually did so for me. I was in the 4-shop, meaning we handled logistics for the unit. I was the
only Non-Commissioned Officer (NCO) in the shop, meaning I was responsible for the daily
operation of the office and would eventually take charge of the barracks (the place where
Marines live, like a dorm or apartment) as well.
By the time my AZ unit had received their orders to deploy to Iraq, I had already
accepted orders to PCS (Permanent Change of Station) to Okinawa, Japan. I was with the rest of
the world and watched the invasion of Iraq from a television. Okinawa was different. The stories
I heard about it, that I thought were exaggerated, I learned to be absolutely true. Okinawa is a
tiny little island surrounded by the East China Sea and the North Pacific Ocean, some 900 miles
south of mainland Japan. One such story I heard about Okinawa was that the humidity was such
that immediately upon walking outside from being indoors, one was immediately drenched in
sweat. That turned out to be a true story.

5
I didn’t quite have the same sort of bonds with my new Marines as I did with my old, but
eventually found a place in which to fit in. I was in a new shop, Embark, and we handled the
transportation requirements for our unit. We were a shop full of Cpls. with a single Sergeant
(Sgt.), which was not one of us, i.e. he was not in our chain-of-command. It turned out that he
was simply there because we shared the same boss, a Warrant Officer (WO).
As if examples of the world not being so small were not enough, it just so happened that
the boss and I recognized each other from being on the same flight to Okinawa. This fact granted
me certain immunities to some of the changes he made to the shop, as it was his prerogative as
our immediate commander to do so. One of the changes he made was to have myself and another
Cpl. share the billet (job position) and responsibilities of Embark Chief until one of us screwed
up or one of us got promoted (his actual words); neither of us screwed up.
The other Cpl eventually got promoted to Sgt. and that made life for all of us a little
easier. Until then, the other Sgt. that hung out in our area managed to create tension within the
shop, his rank gave him authority over us, but our billets kept him out of our way. He would
constantly get onto us for something he found to be wrong and we paid him just enough lip
service to appease him.
One particular day he convinced himself that he was going to counsel me, a Marine
Corps requirement. Unfortunately, he happened to pick a bad day for me, as I was busy planning
for an exercise. We had all sorts of individuals coming into our office to speak to our WO,
asking when they would have certain information. When they weren’t satisfied by his response
that it would be before the end of the day, my WO asked me if I couldn’t speed up the process. I

6
told him I’d need about 30 uninterrupted minutes. Most unfortunate of all was that my
determined Sgt. wasn’t in the room to hear any of this.
He pulls me from my work and begins to tell me of my expectations and what he had
observed in me thus far. I was anxious just to get back to work so I could complete my task and
make the shop and WO look good; I didn’t give my Sgt. my full attention. He noticed this and
bade me sign the form and informed me that I was signing an official document. I reached for a
pen and signed my name; only the pen I happened to have grabbed was blue. He flew into a rage
that only got worse when I suggested he reprint the form. He was further infuriated when I
pointed out that he misspelled my name. The ultimate consequence being that once I completed
what was supposed to be an uninterrupted task, he sent me home for the rest of the day. That
concluded the first time I had ever been officially counseled.
I was promoted to Sgt. my last week on the island and during my last month in the
Marine Corps. I had recently returned from the States having completed my advanced MOS
course and taking some leave (military term for vacation). While at school I expanded upon the
knowledge I received from my MSgt. while in Yuma. While on leave I visited family in the
Bryan/College Station area and took my SAT, thinking I’d go back to Okinawa and re-enlist or
get out and go to college (TAMU). That huge mistake I mentioned earlier, was about to happen.
Once back on the island, I chose to postpone my decision to re-enlist awaiting a letter
from TAMU, sealing my fate. When the letter finally arrived, I was informed that I had missed
my SAT score by some 60 points. I was further informed by the Career Counselor that there was
no hope of re-enlistment due to the effect Stop-Loss orders had upon the force. My decision had
forced me out of the Marine Corps. My gamble was that in a post 9/11 world, TAMU would

7
welcome a Marine on a red, white, and blue carpet leading thru its admissions gate and beyond.
Never was I more wrong and my self-esteem has suffered since. My mistake: I chose college
over a career.
I served honorably in the Marine Corps for four years, enjoyed what I was doing, and
managed to get promoted to Sgt., so I thought I’d use some of the knowledge gained from my
advanced MOS school and join the Army. After all, one of the things I had learned was that the
future of combat operations were going to be more joint-force and I knew my knowledge and
skill set would be of use. I enrolled in Blinn (Bryan campus) and then walked into the National
Guard (NG) unit behind there and told them I was signing up. All I knew about the NG was that
their uniform said, “Army” and that they were a reserve force, meaning I could go to college as I
originally planned. The fact that the NG hadn’t deployed since WWII, I thought to be a bonus.
The day after I joined, I saw in the newspaper that the NG was on its way to Iraq.
I managed to complete my first semester at Blinn with ease. Then in August 2004 I found
myself mobilized with a different NG unit. I was supposed to be a platoon’s Assistant Supply
Sergeant and under the direction of a Sergeant (SGT). Having just come off of active duty from
the Marine Corps I saw the SGT and I to be peers, I eventually came to believe that he saw me as
a subordinate.
I understood the magnitude of the situation and attempted to not let my pride get in the
way of preparing to go to war, that place you go to on the far side of the world, where you try to
kill the enemy before he can kill you. I approached my First Sergeant (1SG) and Captain (CPT)
and explained to them who I was behind that name of mine they had on their unit roster. I had a
duty to inform them that although they saw me as a Soldier, I was in fact a Marine in their

8
uniform and amongst their ranks, and that I had no formal training of my duties and what I knew
by informal means came about as my experiences as a Marine.
It was a chaotic, turbulent time but we weren’t scheduled to depart for Iraq for another
six months. During this time people were being sent to various schools and I was getting a crash
course on how to be a Soldier. One of the biggest changes of all: vocabulary. Some of it was
innocuous; a restroom in the Marines is called a “head”, while in the Army it is called a “latrine”.
Other vocabulary was more technical; in the Marines I’d sign for a piece of equipment using an
Equipment Custody Record (ECR) card [assuming I even bothered with signing for gear] in the
Army, I’d sign a Hand Receipt [there could be no disputes on this issue either].
Worse than that was the term “amourer”. In the Marine Corps this is a person that is of a
certain MOS whose specific and primary job is the maintenance and repair of weapons systems.
In the Army this was an additional duty typically assigned to the Supply Sergeant (as I was left
to believe, as I had no formal Army training). Given a six month training period, I anxiously
awaited to be sent to Amourer School; what I got was lesson on weapons storage procedures.
Once in Iraq, I spent the first couple of months in a remote location; a part of a reinforced
platoon, that was providing site-security for a civilian company, that was responsible for
ordinance removal/detonation in the local area. I was the supply sergeant at the time, meaning I
didn’t stand any watches. Instead, I scoured the area for left-over supplies from the unit we
replaced and consolidated and organized them into one central location.
Sometime after completing this, I was absorbed into the battalion (BN) supply section
where I was to be a company representative. I thought this would be a good time to learn some
actual supply skills/knowledge; instead I was turned into a deliveryman, of sorts, going onto

9
convoys to deliver supplies and paperwork as U.S. infrastructure in Iraq was still in its infancy.
Eventually, I made my way over to the brigade (BDE) S-4 to see if I could do anything remotely
similar to my days in the Marine Corps; there was, only it was little and short-lived.
My company experienced a mission change and joined me at the BN/BDE headquarters
(HQ). I was sucked back into my unit, only my services as a supply sergeant were no longer
needed, so I became a gun truck driver for the purposes of providing protection to convoys. This
translated into becoming a spare body that would bounce from truck to truck to fill in positions
so that my platoon leader could rotate days off for the platoon members. While I don’t remember
receiving any such scheduled time off (although all that time away from the company did seem
fair) I do remember coming off of a convoy mission and being told to get ready to go home on
leave in three days, something I hadn’t planned on doing for another few months.
In the end I received the same Army Commendation Medal (ARCOM) that nearly
everyone else in the unit received. This is also the deployment where I earned my Combat
Action Badge (CAB). (Truth be told, I’m simply relieved that I’m not a Purple Heart recipient.)
I also met a Sergeant Major (SGM) from Minnesota whom was the first soldier I was able to
have in intelligent conversation with regarding my Marine Corps background and understood my
training enough to offer me a position with his unit that was about to deploy; I accepted it.
My second NG deployment is probably my favorite. Although I again had to suffer
through a train-up period, it was short lived; as I finally convinced (with documentation) the
proper authorities to release me to my unit so that I could assist with deployment operations. The
SGM had kept his word and I was assigned to the BDE HQ, in the S-4/Transportation where I
was assigned the BDE Transportation Logistics NCO. I was part of a small shop that consisted of

10
two Majors (MAJ), a CAP, WO, Sergeant First Class (SFC), myself, and a Private (PVT) that
came to us via the Reserves.
I found myself at last in a role similar to what I was when in the Marine Corps. I was
coordinating the deployment of an Army BDE, overseeing data input into the Army systems that
would be responsible for securing the necessary lift assets (Naval ships, military and civilian
cargo planes and passenger jets). Once we deployed into country, our duties would shift towards
tracking equipment moving about the theater, although I didn’t know this up front. I was excited
to be working with an Army WO, as Warrant Officers are widely regarded as the technical
experts in their field; my excitement soon turned to frustration.
A fun little factoid I learned about the NG was that it hasn’t been deployed since WWII;
i.e. it hasn’t been mobilized to support the active forces. My WO and I grew increasingly more
frustrated at my lack of formal Army training. I was familiar with a lot of concepts, terminology,
some specific technical details, and even some practices; I just wasn’t familiar with some key
specifics and Army applications of each. While I enjoyed the challenge, I could not forget that I
had a mission to accomplish, and so set myself about the task of reverse-engineering my Marine
Corps knowledge and experience so that I could stumble through to success via trial and error.
Fortunately we had the assistance of some Department of Defense (DoD) contractors,
lessening the learning pains. They were helpful in the areas they had specialized in and were
rather friendly. I took pride in myself (and the Corps) when one of them attempted to teach me
how to determine the center of balance of a piece of equipment, I had to cut him short; his
explanation had grown a little too long. He was so pleased with my interruption; however,

11
remarking on how astonishing it was that I was able to quote the regulation, verbatim, off the top
of my head.
Once again in country (Iraq) the dynamics of the shop composition shifted. Our WO left
for another base under the impression that the BDE needed representation there. He was
convinced that we needed to communicate our needs to specific units/entities; I eventually came
to half-agree with his assessment, differing on the units which communication relations might
have been beneficial. Our two MAJs weren’t really there on account that one was really on loan
from a subordinate BN and was needed back at his unit to perform functions at that level. The
other MAJ was in fact the BDE S-4 Officer-In-Charge (OIC), and so had other duties to attend
to, frying other fish and putting out many other fires.
By default leadership responsibilities then fall upon our CAP. Sadly, while he turned out
to be a pretty good guy and decent for morale, he was less helpful with bringing focus to our
mission (as the transportation section), but not altogether useless. My SFC turned into a friend of
sorts. While he was a very intelligent person, his background was as an aviation mechanic. He
understood that our success (or failure) would first fall on his shoulders and so he allowed me the
latitude to do the researching we needed so we could perform useful functions for the BDE while
we were deployed.
The reason for mandatory research began with a simple movement request; transporting a
forklift from our motor pool to another unit located on another base in Iraq. Placing myself in the
mindset that I’m a tenant unit representative (think renter of an apartment), I went to the
installation office (think apartment owner/manager) in search of the personnel that should be
able to assist me; I was disappointed. (I’ve since added the word “should” to my list of pet-

12
peeves and have come to redefine the word when I hear it used. I now interpret it as: that which
differs from reality.)
After completing the requisite paperwork, I recall asking the SGT if I could simply walk
away and take no further action for my forklift to get moved. His reply was rather lengthy
(ending in no) as he told me a story of the difficulties they were having with other units
following their instructions. I pointed out that these instructions are not publically posted and
that I’m only receiving them via my deliberate questioning. So I ended up collecting all of the
required information and complied it into an instruction sheet that I then gave back to the
installation office
The results of my research are a great source of pride for me. By thoroughly reading
relevant Army Field Manuals (FMs) I was able to isolate key vocabulary terms, concepts, and
Army unit types/descriptions that I could use as additional resources to use for real-world,
practical application purposes. One of the first contacts I made was with a civilian contractor that
worked on the computer systems used to generate and track movement requests like the one I did
for my forklift, in addition to other useful, relevant systems. This person further enabled me to
gain access to a variety of reports that displayed scheduled cargo movement times. We used the
results of my work and research to provide critical transportation information to our commander
and troubleshot the system where and however we could.
One other event that is worthy of note is my Germany experience. At this time I was
beginning to learn a few things about the Army, and one of the lessons I learned was the need to
go to my specialized MOS school. I was flown out of Iraq, into Kuwait, and onward into
Germany for this training, but there is more to the adventure then simple travel. Once I managed

13
to get to my final destination, at some personal expense, the school was dissatisfying. I don’t
think I was there a week before officially requesting to drop the course. I stood in front of a
Lieutenant Colonel (LTC) and explained myself. Although I’ve long forgotten what I said, I will
never forget his response, “You can’t go onto record with what you just said because if you do,
we run the risk of losing our accreditation as a MOS producing school site”. No big deal, since I
had to re-enlist for three years to get the school slot and I took a huge risk at formally requesting
to drop from the course.
My third deployment into Iraq is probably the one that affected me the most; in part
because I had to deal with the death of my youngest brother before deploying. I had just long
enough of a gap that allowed me to complete another semester of school at Blinn too. Like
before, there was a mandatory train-up time, but this one was a little different. I was a Texas
resident and member of the Minnesota National Guard and the unit I was a part of flew me to
MN for the purposes of completing various drill-weekend exercises on two or three occasions.
This allowed me the opportunity to get to know some of the people I’d be deploying with earlier
than past experiences, so I really didn’t mind the trips.
I was in another HQ unit, only this time at the BN level, but I was again assigned as the
Transportation/Logistics NCO. The personnel complement was remarkably similar to that of my
last command only we had two CAPs, no WO, a SFC, myself, and another SGT. I wasn’t a part
of the normal train-up period this time, having been selected to go on the advanced party into
Kuwait. Once there I would be busy helping to prepare for the arrival of the entire BDE.
I drove a bus during the day and assisted with the logistics planning in the evening. I
worked closely with one of my CAPs I had traveled with. The experience proved to be

14
interesting, as I learned that he had been chosen because he had previously been a member of
one of the units we were getting our support from. He seemed to have thought he could just talk
his way through into getting us some support, of which I’m sure he had some level of success,
but there were a few things I had to point to him; chiefly some of the specifics behind the
movement plan to push the BDE through Kuwait and into Iraq.
Once the main body finally arrived, our MAJ informed us of a mission change. The
initial mission was to provide logistical support to one BDE; now we were tasked with doing so
for two. The manner in which this was to be accomplished was to select a small number of
personnel from the BN to create and form a special company (Co.) that would perform the duties
and functions as the primary BN; I found myself selected for this special unit.
I recall landing in Iraq and being immediately tasked with getting the unit we were
replacing out of country. I also remember teaching those soldiers a few things, because they
weren’t actually logisticians; that turned into a two-edged sword for me, as I managed to impress
quite a few people with my knowledge and abilities. Ironically, however; that wasn’t enough, as
the Army is a highly bureaucratic organization and it was determined that I needed to have a
SFC over me, but first I would have to train him on how to supervise me and my work.
At first this peculiarity was easy to overcome. The SFC tasked with my supervision was
in fact someone whom I had managed to get to know during our train-up period, so he wasn’t a
complete stranger; in fact we got along quite well. Eventually, our work relationship evolved
where he attended meetings, after getting input from me, and I oversaw the daily activities of the
office. This system worked fine until events, still unknown to me, took my SFC away from me
and the command sought to place a Staff Sergeant (SSG) over me and I was expected to train this

15
person as I had the SFC. I put my foot down on this matter and was left alone; the result of which
got me into a lot of trouble that never went onto any sort of official record.
The trouble started with an entire BN nearly missing some mission critical movement
dates. It was determined that the culprit for this was a fouled movement request that should have
been submitted via different channels. Unfortunately, this was an occurrence in which I was
aware of the alternate, additional requirements. I just lacked the specific knowledge on how to
execute this particular request and it occurred when I was the entire transportation section, also
near to the year anniversary of my brother’s death.
The BN eventually received its required movement assets and I oversaw the entire
operation. My actions were eventually used as part of the write-up for an award I would receive,
but in reality I lost out on a promotion opportunity. I’ve been able to reflect then, and now, that I
had arrived at the precise moment in time where I started down a down-ward cycle. I say this
because in the investigation that took place afterwards I felt the process seemed to be more about
blame-shifting rather than fact-finding.
I remained alone for the duration of the deployment, until it was time to redeploy home.
That is to say, I had my own office the whole time and shared it only with one subordinate whom
was not a logistician by trade and came to me via the unique working relationship between the
different commands. In time people would ask me what I did and I would reply, “I’m a
transportation coordinator consultant”.
Once home and separated from the Army, I was an unemployed civilian for 362 days. I
devoted myself to simple pleasures while searching for work and waiting to hear back from my
acceptance to TAMU. Oddly enough, I didn’t find work, and no one called for me until I had

16
been accepted into college. So I went back to my original plan for leaving the Marine Corps and
went back to school. During this time I depleted my savings account and was eventually rejected
from returning back into the Marine Corps, on account of my age and time in service.
My time in the Navy thus far has been uneventful. I’m a Reservist and I travel down to
Houston once a month for a weekend. The time there is what-you-make-of-it, so I content myself
with doing what is required of me. My summer, annual training thus far has taken me back to the
Middle East; three times to the island nation of Bahrain.
The first time there I was placed in the main base post office, where I sorted mail and
participated in a variety of activities. My second trip placed me in an operational unit where I
was a member of the supply section. I enjoyed the second trip more than the first, although in the
end I basically just inventoried supplies and equipment. My third trip was unexciting and
uneventful as I was in a supply section without access to a computer.

2 Overview of Personal Leadership Experience

Recommended

Recommended

More Related Content

Viewers also liked

Viewers also liked (10)

Similar to 2 Overview of Personal Leadership Experience

Similar to 2 Overview of Personal Leadership Experience (7)

More from Michael Sayre

More from Michael Sayre (20)

2 Overview of Personal Leadership Experience