Chapter 67
I still drink beer, though not nearly to excess.
I think I realize everything I have, and everything I could lose. And I also understand not just where my responsibilities are but how to fulfill them.
GIVING BACK
I'm starting to understand the contributions I can make to others. I realize that I can be a complete man-taking care of my family and helping in a small way to take care of others.
Marcus Luttrell started an organization called Lone Survivor Foundation. It gets some of our wounded warriors out of the hospital and into situations where they can enjoy themselves a little. After being wounded in Afghanistan, Marcus said he healed twice as fast at his mom's ranch than he had in the hospital. Something about the open air and being able to roam around naturally helped the process. That's one of the inspirations for his foundation, and it's become one of my guiding principles as I try to do my small share.
I've gotten together with some people I know around Texas who have ranches and asked if they could donate their places for a few days at a time. They've been more than generous. We've had small groups of servicemen disabled in the war come in and spend time there hunting, shooting guns on a range, or just hanging out. The idea is to have a good time.
I should mention that my friend Kyle-the same guy who was a driving force behind getting Craft afloat-is also extremely patriotic and supportive of the troops. He graciously allows us to use his beautiful Barefoot Ranch for many of our retreats for the wounded troops. Rick Kell and David Feherty's organization, Troops First, also works with Craft to help as many wounded guys as we can.
h.e.l.l, I've had a bunch of fun myself. We go hunting a couple of times a day, shoot a few rounds on the range, then at night trade stories and beers.
It's not so much the war stories as the funny stories that you remember. Those are the ones that affect you. They underline the resilience of these guys-they were warriors in the war, and they take that same warrior att.i.tude into dealing with their disabilities.
As you'd expect if I'm involved, there's a lot of bustin' going on back and forth, giving each other h.e.l.l. I don't always get the last laugh, but I do take my shots. The first time I had some of them out to one of the ranches, I took them out on the back porch before we started shooting and gave them a little orientation.
"All right," I told them, picking up my rifle, "since none of you are SEALs, I better give you some background. This here is a trigger."
"Screw you, Squid!" they shouted, and we had a good time from there on out, pus.h.i.+ng each other and making fun.
What wounded veterans don't need is sympathy. They need to be treated like the men they are: equals, heroes, and people who still have tremendous value for society.
If you want to help them, start there.
In a funny way, bustin' back and forth shows more respect than asking "Are you okay?" in a sickly sweet voice.
We've only just begun, but we've had good enough success that the hospitals are very cooperative. We've been able to expand the program to include couples. We're aiming to do maybe two retreats a month going forward.
Our work has gotten me thinking bigger and bigger. I wouldn't mind doing a reality hunting show with these guys-I think it could inspire a lot of other Americans to really give back to their veterans and their present military families.
Helping
I think America does a lot to support people. That's great for those truly in need. But I also think we create dependency by giving money to those who don't want to work, both in other countries and our own. Help people help themselves-that's the way it should be.
I'd like us to remember the suffering of those Americans who were injured serving this country before we dole out millions to slackers and moochers. Look at the homeless: a lot are vets. I think we owe them more than just our grat.i.tude. They were willing to sign a blank check for America, with the cost right up to their life. If they were willing to do that, why shouldn't we be taking care of them?
I'm not suggesting we give vets handouts; what people need are hand-ups-a little opportunity and strategic help.
One of the wounded vets I met at the ranch retreats has an idea to help homeless vets by helping build or renovate housing. I think it's a great idea. Maybe this house won't be where they live forever, but it'll get them going.
Jobs, training-there's an enormous amount that we can do.
I know some people will say that you'll have a bunch just taking advantage. But you deal with that. You don't let it ruin things for everyone.
There's no reason someone who has fought for their country should be homeless or jobless.
WHO I AM
It's taken a while, but I have gotten to a point where being a SEAL no longer defines me. I need to be a husband and a father. Those things, now, are my first calling.
Being a SEAL has been a huge part of me. I still feel the pull. I certainly would have preferred having the best of both worlds-the job and the family. But at least in my case, the job wouldn't allow it.
I'm not sure I would have either. In a sense, I had to step away from the job to become the fuller man my family needed me to be.
I don't know where or when the change came. It didn't happen until I got out. I had to get through that resentment at first. I had to move through the good things and the bad things to reach a point where I could really move ahead.
Now I want to be a good dad and a good husband. Now I've rediscovered a real love for my wife. I genuinely miss her when I'm on a business trip. I want to be able to hug her and sleep next to her.
Taya:
What I loved about Chris in the beginning was the way he unabashedly wore his heart on his sleeve. He didn't play games with my heart or my head. He was a straight shooter who seemed to back up his feelings in actions: spending an hour and a half to drive up to see me, then leaving in time for work at five a.m.; communicating; putting up with my moods.
His sense of fun balanced out my serious side and brought out the youthful side of me. He was up for anything and completely supportive of anything I wanted or dreamed of. He got along famously with my family and I did with his.
When our marriage reached a crisis, I said I wouldn't love him the same if he reenlisted again. It wasn't that I didn't love him, but I felt that his decision would confirm what I thought was becoming increasingly evident. In the beginning, I believed he loved me more than anything. Slowly the Teams started to become his first love. He continued to say the words and tell me what he felt I needed to hear and what he had always said in the past to express his love. The difference is, the words and actions were no longer mes.h.i.+ng. He still loved me but it was different. He was consumed by the Teams.
When he was away, he would tell me things like "I would do anything to be home with you," and "I miss you," and "You are the most important thing in the world to me." I knew if he joined up again that all of what he had been telling me over the past years were mostly words or feelings in theory, rather than feelings expressed in actions.
How could I love with the same reckless abandon if I knew I was not what he said I was? I was second fiddle at best.
He would die for strangers and country. My challenges and pain seemed to be mine alone. He wanted to live his life and have a happy wife to come home to.
At the time, it meant everything I loved in the beginning was changing and I would have to love him differently. I thought it might be less, but it turns out it was just different.
Just like in any relations.h.i.+p, things changed. We changed. We both made mistakes and we both learned a lot. We may love each other differently, but maybe that is a good thing. Maybe it is more forgiving and more mature, or maybe it is just different.
It is still really good. We still have each other's backs and we've learned that even through the tough times, we don't want to lose each other or the family we've built.
The more time that goes by the more we are each able to show each other love in ways the other one understands and feels.
I feel like my love for my wife has gotten deeper over the past few years. Taya bought me a new wedding ring made of tungsten steel-I don't think it's a coincidence that it's the hardest metal she could find.
It has crusader crosses on it, too. She jokes that it's because marriage is like a crusade.
Maybe for us it has been.
Taya:
I feel something coming from him that I hadn't felt before.
He's definitely not the person he was before the war, but there are a lot of the same qualities. His sense of humor, his kindness, his warmth, his courage, and a sense of responsibility. His quiet confidence inspires me.
Like any couple, we still have our day-to-day life things we have to work through, but most importantly, I feel loved. And I feel the kids and I are important.