From an old friend via the mil-email string…

Occasionally, I venture back to NAS, Meridian, where I’m greeted by an
imposing security guard who looks carefully at my identification card, hands
it back and says, “Have a good day, Master Chief”.   

Every time I go back to any Navy Base it feels good to be called by my
previous rank, but odd to be in civilian clothes, walking among the
servicemen and servicewomen going about their duties as I once did, many
years ago.   

The military is a comfort zone for anyone who has ever worn the uniform.
It’s a place where you know the rules and know they are enforced – a place
where everybody is busy, but not too busy to take care of business.   

Because there exists behind the gates of every military facility an
institutional understanding of respect, order, uniformity, accountability
and dedication that becomes part of your marrow and never, ever leaves you.

Personally, I miss the fact that you always knew where you stood in the
military, and who you were dealing with.   That’s because you could read
somebody’s uniform from 20 feet away and know the score.   

Service personnel wear their careers on their sleeves, so to speak. When you
approach each other, you can read their name tag, examine their rank and, if
they are in dress uniform, read their ribbons and know where they’ve served.
I miss all those little things you take for granted when you’re in the
ranks, like breaking starch on a set of fatigues fresh from the laundry and
standing in a perfectly straight line military formation that looks like a
mirror as it stretches to the endless horizon.   

I miss the sight of troops marching in the early morning mist, the sound of
boot heels thumping in unison on the tarmac, the bark of drill instructors
and the sing-song answers from the squads as they pass by in review.   

To romanticize military service is to be far removed from its reality,
because it’s very serious business — especially in times of war.   

But I miss the salutes I’d throw at officers and the crisp returns as we
criss-crossed with a “by your leave sir”.   

I miss the smell of jet fuel hanging heavily on the night air and the sound
of engines roaring down runways and disappearing into the clouds.  The same
While on carrier duty. 

I even miss the hurry-up-and-wait mentality that enlisted men gripe about
constantly, a masterful invention that bonded people more than they’ll ever
know or admit.   

I miss people taking off their hats when they enter a building, speaking
directly and clearly to others and never showing disrespect for rank, race,
religion or gender.   

Mostly, I miss being a small cog in a machine so complex it constantly
circumnavigates the Earth and so simple it feeds everyone on time, three
times a day, on the ground, in the air or at sea.   

Mostly, I don’t know anyone who has served who regrets it, and doesn’t feel
a sense of pride when they pass through those gates and re-enter the world
they left behind with their youth.  

I wish I could express my thoughts as well about something I loved — and
hated sometimes.  

Face it folks – we all miss it…Whether you had one tour or a career, it
shaped our lives.

h/t Frito