When I turned eighteen, I made up my mind on two things: going to college and serving my country. I had been debating for some time about whether or not I would pursue my interest in the English language or if I was going to follow in my parents’ footsteps. I had prepared for both options by touring and applying to colleges while simultaneously keeping up-to-date with the enlistment process. Both paths were very important to me, but I decided to make the sacrifice to put my nation in front of myself. 

From a young age, my parents had taught me honor and duty. I understood those concepts and their importance before I knew anything else. My mom was a relatively high ranking and successful soldier in the Army and my dad worked for the CIA, so it made sense. While I wanted to go to college like my peers and friends, enlisting was something I felt compelled to do. I knew that I would regret skipping my chance to enlist in the military and my parents had always wanted me to serve. 

I’d had a crazy childhood and my parents were extremely busy, so on my eleventh birthday I was deposited on my uncle’s doorstep where I lived until I was eighteen. Not long after my fifteenth birthday, there was a knock on my uncle’s door and when I opened it, I saw a uniformed officer standing there. The second I saw him I knew my worst fear had occurred, she was dead. He informed me that my mother had died in the line of duty and offered me the Army’s sincerest apologies. Although I hadn’t seen my mom in a while, it still hit me hard. You don’t just get over losing someone, especially a family member, even one you don’t see much. Less than a year later, a small white envelope arrived in the mail from the CIA. When I opened it, there was a small piece of ivory cardstock, and I automatically knew that my other worst fear had transpired. I still remember how that little note felt heavier than it should have with its small, gold writing which read: It has been deduced through multiple, trustworthy sources that your Robert Michael Kelley has been killed on a classified mission in the service of the United States of America. The Central Intelligence Agency offers its sincerest apologies for your loss. I lost both my parents that year, one of which I would never know how or why. Although I had known it would happen sooner or later, I always thought it would be later rather than sooner. Their deaths were tragic and painful, serving to magnify my desire to enlist, despite my hesitation to fully commit to it at times.

Almost two years after the deaths of my parents, I graduated high school. The day after graduation, I went to the local recruiting office with my newly earned high school diploma and enlisted in the Army. It took a while to fill out all the forms and get the correct paperwork submitted, but I had soon completed everything I could do that day. I had to take the Army Forces Qualification Test and complete a fitness test as well before I was officially enlisted, but I wasn’t worried. I took both almost a week later and passed them with no problems; I always did make sure I knew everything about potential paths I might take after high school. I guess, subconsciously, my decision had always been the military. I dare say, it was kind of inevitable.

Soon after enlisting, I was shipped off to Fort Benning, Georgia where I completed basic and MOS (Military Occupational Specialty) training for the occupation of infantry. The courses were long and grueling, with the temperatures skyrocketing during the day and plummeting at night. My platoon and I were yelled at and hazed and worked until we thought we were going to drop dead. We were even fortunate enough to sleep outside in tall, wet grass with all the vermin and insects. Although decidedly awful, our misery was a good experience because not long after completing both courses, I was deployed to Pakistan where my platoon and I were stationed for a year and a half; I guess I have to give credit to my drill sergeants, we were well prepared for the discomforts and climate there. Upon return, I served for six more years and went on three more tours. On my last deployment in Afghanistan, I was one of only three surviving people in my platoon after we were ambushed by a bevy of opposing forces. I was injured in the attack by the initial RPG (rocket-propelled grenade) and left for dead by the opposition. My two other platoon members and I were rescued and returned home with multiple injuries and severe PTSD. That was the end of my military service. I was honorably discharged for injuries and mental illness and became lost without the Army and my platoon.

A year or two later, I worked up the motivation to go to college in order to become a teacher, an English teacher to be specific. I attended the University of New Hampshire and was part of the graduating class of 2022. For one of my classes, we were asked to choose one day of our lives and write about it. There was no length requirement, but our professor wanted us to pick a day that really stood out to us above others. I sat at my desk and stared at the blank page in my notebook for a long time. I tried writing about a handful of different events from my life, but none of them felt right.

As I thought about it some more, my topic became clearer to me. I decided not to pick one defining day, but one that was clearly influenced by events in my life that preceded it and shaped events that succeeded it. I reflected on my crazy childhood, pain-filled teenage years, and days spent in the military, both excruciatingly painful and strikingly beautiful all at once. Eventually, I decided to write about one day that I could clearly link to all of those memories, the day I enlisted in the Army. I had enlisted because of everything my parents taught me and the pain of their deaths. Enlisting directly led to all the pain and fear along with fierce pride and camaraderie that stemmed from protecting my country and fighting on the front lines with my brothers and sisters in arms. I wondered for a long time how I was going to start writing about something that was important to me and finally, I began like this: “When I turned eighteen, I made up my mind on two things: going to college and serving my country….”