Personal Narrative: Growing Up In The Army

At least 5 of my close or people I knew died before the age of 16. Because I saw this as a young age, I wanted more for myself, and more for people. There were families in my neighborhood who were living off welfare, and when the food stamps and government assistance were reaching to an end, some women would have another baby just to survive and live off welfare. I learned to be resilient at a young age and to always stand up for what I believe. My mother

How Being a Military Dependent Affected My Life Goals Being a military dependent is something I have known my whole life. My dad joined the Air Force in 1988 at the age of twenty-four. He initially joined the military to help people, but wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, this led him to fighting fires until 2010. I was born in the year 1999; I grew up with him working twenty-four hour shifts and then being home for twenty-four hours.

It was hot. I stood on the side of a dusty gravel road of southeast Texas feeling the sun press down on my neck and back. Underneath my helmet, sweat was slowly collecting on my forehead and moving down my cheeks as if to escape from the sweltering heat. The sweat left streaks in the camouflage paint that covered my face. From a distance, I thought my face must look like river tributaries, such as those seen from space. Braced across my back were a forty-pound duffle bag and my M-16 rifle that had been my kindred friend throughout the last seventy-two hours. Only six miles separated me from the relief of the relentless September sun. It was black-flag weather, too hot for any kind of outdoor activity, but for the United States Air Force, September 9th, 1999 was an exception to the rule.

Military children are faced with many difficult challenges throughout their childhood. Most end up with many quality traits, such as loyalty, and resiliency. It is a life filled with constant change. Many things, including parenting attitude can help them transition along the way. It is this life that makes them into what they are, strong kids, full of pride for their country.

I woke up early mornings to find myself basking in the sun. Rude customers made every day miserable. Long lasting smells of chlorine stained my nostrils, but I knew this was necessary to help my mother. It was at this time I realized that I was no longer a child. I was a member of the working class.

Growing up in Iraq in the era between the gulf war, Iran war, and Iraq war with the United state was a challenge for me, but it was not harder challenge than all what my parents went through to keep me and my siblings safe and sound. My mother is one of the strongest people that I have came cross in my life. She was and still the best mother, teacher, and my best friend. She graduated from Al Mosul University in Iraq as a Mechanical Engineer. Being a daughter of graduated mother will always push me to complete my education and go even further to earn my master degree too.

He became a father figure to me since my mom was the only one raising me. Coach gave me a ton of advice that really helped me. One of the things I learned from him is that guys should be patient and understanding with other people. He also taught me how to gentle and caring. I learned how to control myself and make the most of what I had.

When I was young, I was raised in poverty and never lived in the same place for more than 15 months. I have said of my difficult childhood, "I never was a child. I never was cuddled, or liked, or understood by my family. " I grew much taller that my peers.

I became speechless, filled with regret and sorrow. I wanted to take the one word back that had changed my high school experience forever. I had not only failed myself, but I had also failed those who looked up to me as a leader. I never told my dad because I felt too

Coming from BCT to my unit was a big change. You go from standard military bearing to a laid back informal style. I arrive to my unit in July of 2008, from that point until January 2010 was spent training for a deployment. Now there is nothing that can prepare you for a deployment. You can go through all the briefings and all the trainings you want but nothing will prepare you for it. The day came to board the bus set out for a foreign country. I little about me first I am a very keep to myself person. I show zero emotion, as when I was a child I was poked fun at for showing any type of emotion. Once I boarded that bus I broke down and started to cry. I more I thought about it the more uneasy I became. I had to hold it together for

I believe in the act of paying it forward, and treating others the way you want to be treated in the midst of it. Ever since I was a little girl, I always had a heart to help anyone that I was able to. I hated seeing others down, making it seem as if I was higher than them when I had nothing. I believed that if I was in their shoes, I would want someone to help me. Seeing homeless people on the side of the streets sad, hungry, desperate for just a bite of a sandwich or even a couple dollars to get them by for the next few days, made me realize how much I want to help people who are in need. This is the reason I am becoming a nurse practitioner and become apart of The National Guard.

My dad works for the Air Force, making me a military brat. I have been in places such as Washington, D.C. and Oklahoma City because of his job. Every time I had to leave behind friends, family, and everything I knew to be home. Every move I have gone through has taken me cross-country to places that I thought I wouldn’t enjoy.

Life in the war front is completely different than what I had imagined. As a Nursing Sister, or Bluebird, my job never ends, which makes writing in this journal extremely difficult. So many men come in with disgusting wounds, I feel sick just thinking about it even though I have nursing experience back home. I only joined the Royal Canadian Army Medical Corps because father decided to join the war front himself. I understand that as a militant who has aided in previous military acts would feel responsible to join the war but, he also has responsibilities at home. I can’t do everything myself! Father refuses to speak to me. When I try to tend his injuries, he doesn’t even look at me, or he would just go to another nurse. I don’t understand why he is angry with me, when he’s allowing himself to join the army and risk his entire life. His entire life depends on whether his rifle gets jammed after a rapid fire or not.

I joined the Marine Corps on 21 August 2008. My primary MOS is Fixed-wing aircraft safety equipment mechanic, KC-130. As a Safety equipment mechanic I am required to troubleshoot, isolate, and repair survival equipment aboard the kc 130J/MV-22 platforms.

Late 2005 I was assigned to 2-35 Infantry Regiment, 25th Infantry Division, Schofield Barracks, HI. I re-enlisted into the Army after almost a three year break in service. On my previous enlistment, I served in the 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment from the 82nd Airborne Division. All the new soldiers to include myself were standing in formation waiting on the Battalion Command Sergeant Major (CSM) to speak to us. I was the only Private First Class with a Combat Infantryman Badge, an Expert Infantryman Badge, and a combat deployment to Afghanistan. The CSM began by welcoming us to the unit and asking who wanted to go to the Scout Platoon. Several of us in the formation raised our hands. The CSM looked at my right shoulder and saw my