A Simple Question With A Not-So-Simple Answer

“So, umm. Why’d you join?”

It’s a question at the heart of military-civilian relations in contemporary America. It’s a question that can be asked all kinds of ways, in all sorts of tones, sometimes with hidden meanings, sometimes with nothing but clean, naked curiosity. And it’s a question damn near every servicemember and vet gets asked, by friends and strangers alike. I know I’ve been.

So. Umm. Why’d you join. Question mark.

Each year, somewhere in the ’hood of 180,000 people join the armed forces, either as officers or as enlisted personnel. A Pew survey from a couple years back asked post-9/11 servicemembers and veterans to name the reasons they’d originally joined up. Patriotism/serving the country was listed by an overwhelming number — almost 90 percent. Then came education opportunities like the GI Bill (77 percent), travel/the classic “see the world” hook (60 percent), and gaining skills for a post-military career (57 percent).

What I like about the survey is it allowed respondents to name multiple reasons. Out in the world, when posed that question by those aforementioned friends and strangers, it seems like only one answer can suffice, that only one answer should suffice. A pithy declaration, hopefully. After all, deciding to serve in the military is a big fucking deal, especially during a time of perpetual war. Shouldn’t someone who decided “I’ll go, send me” have one touchstone reason to satisfy the inquiring minds?

Maybe. And maybe not. Life is immense and complex, especially for young people trying to find their way. Why did your dental hygienist become a dental hygienist? How did your Uber driver end up behind the wheel? People, a lot of people, end up in the military for reasons they’re still sorting through by the time their first drill sergeant at basic greets them off the bus with a toothy sneer. But explaining all that to folks without a military background can be… messy, sometimes.

A lot of vets — myself included — have ready-made stories as a result. The stories can change depending on the environment, little verbal chameleons meant to adapt to the moment. At a dinner with my parents’ friends? I talk about my family’s history with and in military service. At a bar with my wife’s coworkers? Had to pay for college, ya dig. At a New York book party with too-precious naval-gazing assholes I feel like riling up because I’m bored and feeling the whiskey? Talk about the sweet, tender thrill of putting rounds downrange and blowing shit up. 

Nothing like the watery look of horror that gets, goddamn. It’s beautiful.

Anyhow, all those things are true, and work in confluence with one another. They also can contradict one another — multiple reasons and explanations can do that. Yeah, people who join the military put some thought into it before doing it (usually), even if those urban legends about waking up drunk and penniless at a recruiters’ station persist. Like the late, great Walt Whitman wrote, “Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.”

I wanted to hear more about those multitudes from fellow vets, some still in the service, some recently (or recently-ish) out. So I asked them that notorious question, “Why’d you join?” Here are some of my favorite responses, cut down for space and edited for clarity.

Kyle, former Army specialist (’03 – ’09), Iraq veteran
“What is it that people say? I wasn’t ‘college material,’ I guess. My own high school counselor told me that. Where I’m from [rural Missouri], the military is a way to do something different. I was eighteen. I love my country and also wanted to be able to buy a car, help my grandmom with bills. I think I decided to join the Army way earlier than I did join, to be honest.

“I’m in college now [on the GI Bill], which is funny. My 18-year-old self would laugh. But that’s what kills me when I hear other students here talking down about the military. I saw some bad shit, but it was worth it. My family has opportunities now, and I’m proud of that.”

Jackie, current field-grade Naval officer, multiple deployments during the Global War on Terror
“Where I come from, people only join the military if they’ve made a poor life choice — jail, serious debt, that sort of thing. That’s the perception, at least. So when my parents tell people what I’m doing and what I’ve done, they’ve learned to emphasize I’ve chosen this life because I want it. Because I’m excellent at it.”

“T,” Marine Corps veteran, lance corporal (’99 – ’10), Iraq and Afghanistan veteran
“I love the Corps. It’s blood after those years, bro. I want that whole funeral shit when I die — I fucking earned it. But I’d be lying if I said I don’t wonder how life might’ve been different.

“I went to war five times. My whole twenties in those places. For what, my ex liked to ask when she wanted to fight… a good question. Didn’t want to hear it, but a good question.

“I don’t think I’d like who I’d be had I not become a Marine. But I think life might be… not better, that’s not what I’m saying, but definitely easier. Maybe happier, if that matters at all.”

Hunter, Air Force staff sergeant, (’11 – current), Afghanistan veteran
“We live in the greatest nation in the history of the world. I really believe that and we’d be better off if more people remembered it. Serving, representing this flag and what it stands for every day, it’s a dream come true. I’ve wanted to do this since I was a kid.

“Now, was it important to find a good job in the service, one with technical skills that’ll transfer over to the civilian world after I retire? Of course. I also wanted to do something [in the Air Force] that I was good at, so I’m maximizing my time here. Like my uncle told me in high school, ‘They’re gonna get theirs from you. Might as well get something back in return.’”

Tom, former Army captain (’06 – ’11), Afghanistan and Iraq veteran
“Duty. Honor. Country. That’s why I joined. Just like the commercials say. But truthfully… I hated it most days I was in uniform. All the bureaucracy, all the middle management, all the weird taskings and orders that had nothing to do with getting soldiers ready for combat. But I miss those days, more and more, with each passing year. Getting old’s part of it. And part of it is realizing I’ll never be a part of something like it again. A unified entity. Real life’s not like that. I wish it were.”

Matt Gallagher is a U.S. Army veteran of Iraq and the author of the novel Youngblood (Atria/Simon & Schuster).

Photo: Getty Images/ Eduardo Munoz Alvarez