When I joined the Army, I thought I was 9 feet tall and bulletproof. I was Rambo. All it took was breathing in some toxic dust to change that.
My time in the service was cut far too short by a medical injury. (I was planning to retire in the military.) This caused me to go into a downward spiral of self-hate that resulted in me becoming a full-time alcoholic. During the worst of it, I’d end up drunk and sleeping on my mother’s doorstep. But after getting help and recognizing that there is life after injury, I vowed to spend my time helping other vets going through addiction.
In 2001, I was stationed at a port in Serbia with the Kosovo Force. We trekked across dirt roads with the turret doors of our tanks open, breathing in sand and dust that was laced with chemical warfare from when Yugoslavia faced off against the Soviets. We never wore gas masks.
Days later, my organs were shutting down. I had an enlarged heart. I quit breathing for long enough that it caused a brain injury. I was being read my last rites by the station’s chaplain and a plot was being picked out back home in West Virginia.
Miraculously, though, I survived. When I got back to the U.S., I was 100 pounds lighter. I looked like I had a gunshot wound in the chest or had been bit by a shark with all the staples covering my body.
The doctors gave me just a few years to live. I fought to see my children grow up, even though I recognized I probably would never play ball with my son or walk my daughter down the aisle.
But the comfort of family only went so far. After a year and a half of not being able to walk, being in rehabilitation and feeling like I was losing my mind or that my life was over, I fell into a deep depression.
I started self-medicating, and tequila was the easiest substance to get a hold of. I didn’t become a drunk overnight, but it didn’t take a long time, either, because the alcohol became the only thing that helped me function.
After about a decade of watching the disappointment in my children and parents’ eyes, I decided to get help at the Veterans Administration hospital in Huntington, W.V.
Through recreational therapy, I was truly able to turn my life around. It put me among guys just like myself — we were all injured in some way and a bit to ourselves. After I went whitewater rafting for the first time and experienced that thrill, I felt brand new.
I began to recognize that I didn’t need to be depressed about my situation. Sure, I may be disabled, but I’ve gotten awards for snowboarding.
Today, I spend my time volunteering with the VA helping veterans get through their struggles. I have my own home now. My kids and my mom have seen me crawling through a house; now they see me assisting others.
I lost more than a decade of my life to alcohol. Through recovery, I’ve learned that life’s too precious and losing one day is too much.
I joined the military out of a sense of service. And though I can’t continue to serve my country in that capacity anymore, I’ve dedicated my life to other veterans. I guide them through the process, counsel them or whatever is needed.
I want to be there and help them.
As told to NationSwell staff writer Joseph Darius Jaafari. This essay has been edited for clarity and style. Read more stories of service here.
Tag: army
Why Is It So Hard to Understand What It’s Like to Be a Veteran?
As soon as he wrapped up his studies in film and literature at Boston University, Henry Hughes followed family tradition and signed up for the Army. For the next five years, he took fire, dodged IEDs and grappled internally with the meaning of military service while on two tours of duty in Afghanistan with the 173rd Airborne Brigade. After Hughes returned home and earned another degree from the American Film Institute, he began making movies, including his short film,“Day One,” which tells the story of a female Army interpreter facing a moral quandary during her first day on the job: saving the newborn child of a known enemy. The film was nominated for this year’s Academy Award for best live-action short.
NationSwell spoke to Hughes, a Got Your 6 Storyteller, by phone from Los Angeles about the lingering questions from war and their portrayal on film.
What inspired you to serve your country?
For me, it was a long family tradition. We basically had someone in the Army since the [American] Revolution. I wanted to be part of that tradition.
Is there one question that you continually ask yourself about your experience?
It’s probably, “why is it not so simple?” It’s a very complex part of my life, not something that is full of simply good memories or simply bad memories: it’s a mixture of all types of life. So I always wonder why it’s not like anything else. At this point, why can’t it be simpler? Why is it so difficult for everyone to understand it?
I’m guessing that’s why did you decided to make the film “Day One?”
For sure, it’s about those questions. There’s not a reducible answer like the one I just tried to give you. So that’s why I thought I could make a movie about it instead, to kind of show the way it felt. So the movie is not a true-to-life of what exactly happened to me that one day. But the feeling when I’m watching the movie, it’s that sublime space of things that are horrible and beautiful in the same breath.
What’s the most important lesson civilians can take away from art that’s made about war?
I would say that everyone’s wartime experience is subjective. I don’t know if there’s some sort of universal experience.
What’s your favorite movie about war?
For me, it’s “The Thin Red Line.” I think it touches me because there’s no other war movie like it, that accepts the soulfulness of the warrior experience. A lot of movies don’t go that way, they kind of go along the more visceral, more experiential route.
What is the quality you most admire in a comrade?
What I actually admire most is hard to come by in our community: vulnerability. When it’s a vulnerability to look at your military experience, I really love meeting those people.
Who was the most inspirational person you encountered while serving?
I would say my interpreter on my second tour. She’s the one I based the movie on, or it’s inspired by her. She’s an Afghan-American woman, naturalized as an American citizen, but born over there. The deck was stacked against her, and she looked inside herself to find out what she thought was right and wrong. It wasn’t something that someone told her to do. She just had incredible integrity.
If you could change one thing about your service, what would it be?
I wouldn’t want one of my guys to be wounded or for any of my guys to die.
What do you consider your greatest achievement?
I would probably say chasing down my wife. It was a long shot, and it worked out. In 2010, after my first tour, I flew to New York without knowing she was there. We hadn’t spoken in a long time. We knew each other as children, when we were 13, and I hadn’t seen her in a number of years. I thought I could track her down, and so on Facebook messenger, I basically said, “Hey, I just landed in New York. Let’s hang out. We haven’t seen each other in a decade.” We went on one date and then a few more dates. She started me writing me a lot of letters when I was in Afghanistan again for my second tour, and we decided to be together.
How can the rest of us, as civilians, do more to support veterans?
Just look at them as people first. I feel like there’s a big divide on some level, but a lot of it is imagined. The fact of the matter is that all of those veterans are just people. I would look at them that way first and then look at their experience.
To you, what does it mean these days to be a veteran?
Well, it’s inescapable, I suppose. The definition of being a veteran is you can never not be a veteran one once you are one. And that speaks to, I think, how profound that experience is. There’s no way you can stop being a veteran.
Wrongful Conviction Spurs Texas to Reform Police Lineups, Scientist Discovers Efficient Way to Restore Coral Reefs and More
Recognition, The New Yorker
Texas has the reputation of being tough on crime and even harsher on those found guilty. For those who binged Netflix’s recent “Making a Murderer,” the tale of Tim Cole, an Army veteran who, because of incorrect eyewitness identification by the victim herself, was wrongfully convicted of sexual assault in 1986 (and died while incarcerated), will make it seem like our criminal justice system is broken. Fortunately, there is a silver lining to this tragic story.
This Village of Tiny Houses Is Giving Seattle’s Homeless a Place to Live, Fast Co. Exist
With approximately 10,000 people living on the streets, it’s an understatement to say that there’s a homelessness crisis happening in Seattle. Since affordable and free housing for the homeless is a costly endeavor, the nonprofit Low Income Housing Institute needed to get creative. Their idea? Tiny houses that can house a small family, yet cost just $2,000 to construct.
A Coral Reef Revival, The Atlantic
Helping a century’s old coral reef come back to life certainly sounds like science fiction, but it’s exactly what David Vaughan, Ph.D., is doing off the coast of south Florida. He and his team of scientists are restoring reefs by producing thousands of new pieces of coral using microfragmentation — a new process that he developed by accident.
This Resourceful Soldier Goes From Fighting on the Front Lines to Running a Fashion Line
Talking via Skype, Sword & Plough CEO Emily Núñez Cavness held what appeared to be a routine business meeting with her sister and Chief Operating Officer, Betsy Núñez. But when Núñez Cavness, who’d been working remotely for several months, turned to look behind her, the mood suddenly felt very chaotic. Barely out of college, Núñez Cavness said a quick goodbye and hung up. Off camera, she suited up, grabbed some equipment and rushed for cover. An Army officer, Núñez Cavness was stationed in Kandahar, the capital of the former Taliban government in Afghanistan. Her work call had been interrupted by mortar fire.
“It was not the usual start-up location,” Núñez Cavness says.
Most start-ups have stories about their origin that border on the mythic — tales of discontent, intrigue and ambition that are repeated to investors and customers alike. Sword & Plough, which repurposes surplus military gear into stylish bags, makes most Silicon Valley narratives pale in comparison. Yet Núñez Cavness understates the difficulties in her retelling. Listening to her quiet voice, she makes you believe that balancing active duty deployment and entrepreneurship isn’t a tough tightrope to walk and that small business ownership from a combat zone halfway around the globe is common.
Perhaps her nonchalance is because of the scale of the challenges Núñez Cavness wants her company to address. Sword & Plough isn’t just another fashion house, one more Balmain selling military jackets at H&M; instead, she sees the company becoming an “American heritage brand,” supporting 38 jobs for the nation’s 573,000 unemployed veterans, reducing 35,000 pounds from the military’s tons of waste and creating bonds between civilians and soldiers in the process. (It also donates 10 percent of its profits to veterans’ groups.) This mission is almost as ambitious as the Biblical verse her company’s name is derived from — “They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks” — promising a new era of peace and creation.
Núñez Cavness was born at the United States Military Academy in West Point, N.Y., where her father taught political science and international relations. Growing up on a base, she remembers hearing that military surplus was burned or buried — a problem she pondered for two decades, until she was a senior at Middlebury College in Vermont.
Inspired by her father, she signed up for the Army Reserve Officers’ Training Corps (R.O.T.C.) at another school, an hour’s drive away in Burlington. Leaving at 6:30 a.m. for weekend training exercises while her classmates slept off hangovers, Núñez Cavness was the only cadet on her liberal arts campus. She often detected hesitation students who didn’t know how to ask her about military service. (An art student, leaving the studio after an all-nighter, once asked her what play she was acting in.) “I would get confused looks walking around campus,” Núñez Cavness recalls. “People didn’t know that I was in R.O.T.C., but I just saw it as an opportunity to strengthen the understanding between the civilian and veteran community.”
While listening to a talk by Jacqueline Novogratz, founder of Acumen (a nonprofit venture capital firm that funds solutions to global poverty) at Middlebury’s Center for Social Entrepreneurship, Núñez Cavness heard about a company that used recycling in its business model. In that instant, all of her history — the knowledge about what happens to military surplus, any alienation she felt at college and worries about future employment that other soldiers expressed — coalesced.
“What, in my life, I saw wasted on a daily basis could be harnessed and turned into something beautiful. As I looked around, I knew that every student in there had a bag of some form propped up next to them. Why not make durable bags that would be appealing to my classmates, really anyone?” Núñez Cavness remembers. “I was so excited that it was difficult to stay focused on the speech, because all these ideas were running through my mind.”
Núñez Cavness learned what a business plan was (it hadn’t come up in her international studies or French classes) and put one together with her sister. The siblings worked on the business through Núñez Cavness’s senior year, reaching out to contractors who make tents, sleeping bag covers, aircraft insulation, even parachutes. They set up a Kickstarter in April 2013 and asked their friends to buy a bag. Within two hours, they reached their $20,000 goal. By the end of the first day, they tripled that amount and eventually raised $312,000. Clearly, the demand for their product was there, but soon, Sword & Plough’s co-founder wasn’t (Núñez Cavness deployed shortly after graduation) — all while the company suddenly had 1,500 orders to fill.
Núñez Cavness rarely discusses specifics of deployed life with her garment employees, but she warns them when missions will put her out of contact for a few days. For the most part, they know she’s safe, but the occasional loss of internet can lead to anxiety and uncertainty, “this fear of what could have happened or might happen,” says Haik Kavookjian, a college friend who assembled Sword & Plough’s first bags on his mom’s old tabletop sewing machine and now serves as the company’s creative director. Still, her service and her work ethic are inspiring.
“Her ability to multitask and to manage the team while still working for the military, I can only assume comes from her strictly regimented training with the Army,” Kavookjian says. “Especially in the startup space, a lot of times what you find you need is that drive to continue at midnight, finishing work that needs to be done. Her ability to push on and keep going is something that the military has prepared her for.”
There is “a ton of overlap” between roles, Núñez Cavness says. In effect, she serves as CEO of both her domestic business and her military company. She began conducting business meetings based on the same tactics used in military trainings, and she stresses long-term planning, an important aspect of military strategy.
Núñez Cavness’s success could just have easily gone awry. Balancing responsibilities at home with active deployment could help strengthen a soldier’s resilience, but for another service member in the same circumstances, the stress of two jobs could be overwhelming. Founding a business from a military base is a case that’s “unusual though not unheard of,” says Charles Engel, a retired Army colonel who served as a psychiatrist for 31 years and is now a senior health scientist at RAND, a global policy think tank. Many doctors stationed abroad often “moonlighted” on nights and weekends to earn a little extra cash, he says. As long as Núñez Cavness’s superiors checked off on the business, Engel doesn’t see any problems.
“Some people will have the capacity to juggle different things and will even find it stimulating to be challenged in that way. Another person will be rapidly overwhelmed in that kind of circumstance,” Engel says. “What the leadership worries about in the military is that you would have obligations that would come into conflict with jobs in the military, obligations that might prevent you from deploying or otherwise distract you form your work overseas. Your primary job — being a soldier or sailor or airman — that’s the one that takes priority.”
Duty comes first and foremost, Núñez Cavness agrees, but her work with Sword & Plough sometimes helps her remind why she enlisted. One month after she arrived in Afghanistan, she received a big package, sent from a name she didn’t recognize. Inside was a handwritten note from a Vietnam vet, mentioning how impressed he was by Sword & Plough’s commitment to helping veterans. He included black-and-white photos of himself in uniform, on top of some cookies, candy and playing cards. “It was incredibly special and surreal to think — to know — that even there, in the desert in Afghanistan, thousands of miles away, somebody was moved by what we were doing,” Núñez Cavness says.
As Sword & Plough continues to bridge the military civilian divide, it’s likely that this isn’t the only care package Núñez Cavness will receive.
MORE: One Man, His T-Shirts and an Honorable Mission to House Homeless Veterans
This Veteran Refuses To Leave His Unemployed and Debt-Ridden Comrades Behind
When Eli Williamson returned from two deployments to the Middle East, his hometown of Chicago felt at times like a foreign battleground, the memory of desert roads more familiar than Windy City central thoroughfares. As he relearned the city, Williamson noticed a strange similarity between veterans like himself and the young people growing up in tough parts of Chicago. Too many had witnessed violence, and they had little support to cope with the trauma.
Applying the timeworn principle of leaving no soldier, sailor, airman or marine behind, Williamson co-founded Leave No Veteran Behind (LNVB), a national nonprofit focused on securing education and employment for our warriors. Williamson formed the organization based on “just real stupid” and “crazy” idealism: “You know what?” he says. “I can make a difference.” Since work began in 2008, with a measly operating budget of $4,674 to help pay off student loans, LNVB has eliminated around $150,000 of school debt and provided 750 transitional jobs, Williamson says.
“Coming out of the military, every individual is going to have his or her challenges,” says Williamson, who served as a psychological operations specialist and an Arabic linguist in Iraq in 2004 and in Afghanistan in 2007. “We’ve seen veterans with substance abuse issues, homelessness issues.” Additionally, at least one in five veterans suffer from PTSD, and almost 50,000 are homeless and 573,000 are unemployed.
Williamson started the group with his childhood friend Roy Sartin. They first met in high school, when they joined choir and band together. “I think we’ve been arguing like old women every since,” Williamson says. Both joined the U.S. Army Reserves while at Iowa’s Luther College and were mobilized to active duty during their senior year after the Twin Towers fell. Williamson finished his education at the Special Warfare Training Center at Fort Bragg in North Carolina, while Sartin put his learning on hold.
Upon return, both struggled with crippling interest rates on their student loans. Sartin received a call from the loan company saying that he needed to make a $20,000 payment. “Although I had the funds, it was just enough to get myself back together. So, for me, the transition wasn’t as tough, but I was one of the lucky ones.” Williamson got a bill for $2,200 only 22 days before the balance was due. Desperate, he took to the streets playing music to cover the costs.
After talking with other vets, the two realized that many didn’t qualify for the military’s debt repayment programs. That’s when they started going out to financial sources for “retroactive scholarships” for our country’s defenders. And they sought employment opportunities for former military members to help cover the rest.
Jobs and debt relief for our nation’s warriors are the main focus of LNVB, but the group oversees several initiatives, including S.T.E.A.M. Corps, which pairs vets with science, technology, engineering, arts, and math experience with at-risk youth. More than 200 students have graduated from S.T.E.A.M., but Williamson, director of veteran affairs at the Robert R. McCormick Foundation, points to a more intangible benefit of his non-profit’s work: the ability for veterans “to articulate a larger vision of themselves … is our advocacy mission,” he says.
“Veterans can paint a vision for where our country needs to be, and the only reason we can do that is because you realize that you are part of something larger than yourself,” Williamson adds. “That’s a fundamental value that veterans can share, as they leave military, with the communities that they come back to.” For those who’ve just returned home from Operations Enduring Freedom and Iraqi Freedom, in other words, service is just beginning.
How Veterans Bring the Spirit of Service Back to the Home Front
Koby Langley, who directed veteran, wounded warrior, and military family engagement for the White House before overseeing services to the armed forces for the American Red Cross, stands before photos of his family members during his Got Your 6 Storytellers talk.
“The majority of the men and women that serve in uniform come from military families,” he says, gesturing to a black and white portrait of Felix Powel of the U.S. Navy Pacific Fleet in the 1950s, a picture of Dr. Kimberlyn Brown of the U.S. Army Medical Corps from the War in Afghanistan, and another of Langley himself, who served in Iraq. “That spirit of service that we give to our sons and daughters is critically important as we think about our national security needs in the future.”
In his talk, Langley describes how the same spirit of service that compelled every one of his family members to sign up for every major United States conflict since World War I remains upon the return home. “It shouldn’t be any surprise that communities are looking for us,” he says. “They want us to leverage the leadership skills that we learned overseas here in our communities at home.”
He zooms in on stories of specific veterans who put their leadership into action, mentioning initiatives like Hiring Our Heroes and Team Rubicon. Langley also speaks of Chris Marvin, founder and managing director of Got Your 6. “Chris flew helicopters. In Afghanistan, his Black Hawk crashed. He was stuck in the rubble, close to death. He suffered surgery after surgery after surgery when he came home,” Langley says.
One of the first things Marvin said to Langley when they first met was how he really wished people would stop thanking him for his service. “Don’t thank us for our service,” Langley explains. “When we come home, say ‘Welcome home. We still need you. Are you ready to serve again?’”
These 10 Documentaries Will Change How You See America
Documentary films are known for sparking social change. (Case in point: Who wants to eat at McDonalds after seeing Super Size Me or Food, Inc.? What parent suggests visiting SeaWorld after seeing Blackfish?) Though 2014’s nonfiction films weren’t massive box office hits, they pointed out injustice and lifted our eyes to the doers making a difference. Here are the 10 must-see documentaries that inspired us to action.
10. The Great Invisible
BP’s Deepwater Horizon oil spill in 2010 still darkens the coastline along the Gulf of Mexico in the form of altered ecosystems and ruined lives. Named best documentary at the SXSW Film Festival, Margaret Brown’s documentary dives deep beyond the news coverage you may remember into a tale of corporate greed and lasting environmental damage.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LDw1budbZpQ
9. If You Build It
Two designers travel to the poorest county in rural North Carolina to teach a year-long class, culminating in building a structure for the community. In this heartwarming story, 10 students learn much more than construction skills.
http://vimeo.com/79902240
8. The Kill Team
An infantry soldier struggles with his wartime experience after alerting the military his Army platoon had killed civilians in Afghanistan. On the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences’ long list for best documentary, Dan Krauss’s challenging film shows how morality dissolves in the fog of war and terror of battle.
7. Starfish Throwers
Three people — a renowned cook, a preteen girl and a retired teacher — inspire an international movement to end hunger. Jesse Roesler’s film includes the story of Allan Law, the man who handed out 520,000 sandwiches during the course of a year in Minneapolis, which we featured on NationSwell.
6. Lady Valor: The Kristin Beck Story
A former Navy SEAL (formerly named Christopher, now Kristin) says that changing genders, not military service, was the biggest battle of her life. In retrospect, her SEAL experience takes on new importance as she comes to understand the true value of the words “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”
5. The Internet’s Own Boy: The Story of Aaron Swartz
An online pioneer who developed Creative Commons with the academic and political activist Lawrence Lessig at age 15 and co-founded Reddit at 19, Swartz crusaded for a free and open internet. Another potential Oscar candidate, the film poignantly recounts how Swartz ended his own life at age 26 after aggressive prosecutors initiated a federal case against him.
4. True Son
A 22-year-old black man recently graduated from Stanford returns to his bankrupt hometown of Stockton, Calif., to run for city council. Michael Tubbs convinces his neighbors (and the movie’s audiences) you can have “a father in jail and a mother who had you as a teenager, and still have a seat at the table.”
3. The Hand That Feeds
After years of abuse from their bosses, a group of undocumented immigrants working for a New York City bakery unionize for fair wages and better working conditions. Led by a demure sandwich maker, the employees partner with young activists to fight their case against management and the food chain’s well-connected investors.
2. Rich Hill
Three boys confront impoverishment, learning disabilities and dysfunctional families in this human portrait of growing up in small-town America. The backdrop to the teenagers’ lives is their Missouri hometown of 1,396 residents, where one in five lives in poverty and where the fireworks still glow every Fourth of July.
1. The Overnighters
Our top film and a favorite for an Academy Award nomination details how an oil boom draws a city-sized influx of workers to a small town in North Dakota, where they scrape by on day labor and live in their cars. With the heft, detail and narrative twists of a Steinbeck novel, Jesse Moss profiles the Lutheran pastor Jay Reinke, who welcomes these desperate men into a shelter called “The Overnighters,” to his congregation’s dismay.
Are there any documentaries that should have made the cut? Let us know in the comments below.
After This Soldier Was Shot in the Head, Comedy Became His Therapy
“A lot of people have asked me how I went from being a soldier to being a comedian,” Retired U.S. Army Staff Sergeant Thom Tran says in his Got Your 6 Storytellers talk. “Comedy is my therapy.”
On his fourth day in Iraq, Tran took a gunshot to the back of his skull in a gunfight. As Tran talks, footage of the incident from the field plays behind him. In it, he wipes blood from his neck and says, simply, “f***.”
Tran, who is now based in Los Angeles and works as a standup comedian, writer, producer, voiceover actor, and traffic reporter, has a punch line for everything.
He talks, for example, about how he holds so may jobs because he is constantly on the verge of being fired from at least one of them. He describes how memory loss — a result of his injury — allows him to hide chocolates from himself then find them with that same feeling of surprise you experience when you find money in a pair of pants. And he even manages to make the audience laugh about the way his father reacted to the video of his son being shot in the head.
“We have to be able to laugh at that,” he says, pointing to the video screen behind him as he stands before an audience that is experiencing shock, inspiration and side-splitting laughter all at once.
“Cause if I didn’t, I don’t know where I’d be today,” he continues. “Laughing, this therapeutic thing that comes from your soul, is the only thing I’ve found that can heal that.”
It’s no wonder Tran went on to found the GIs of Comedy, recruiting military veterans to travel and perform for troops and civilian supporters around the world as a way to bring laughter to them and to help them heal.
Watch his story, then share it with six of your friends.
Jason Everman’s Unlikely Life Trajectory From Music to the Military
Jason Everman, the guitarist who played with Nirvana and Soundgarden, says punk rock was his soundtrack growing up.
“It was this loud, fast, aggressive music that was essentially the sonic middle finger,” he says, standing before a picture of his teenage self wearing a Black Flags T-shirt. “And as I was this kind of 15-year-old gawky walking middle finger, we complemented each other.”
In his Got Your 6 Storytellers talk, Everman focuses on his unlikely life trajectory, the path that took him from playing in rock bands to becoming a U.S. Army Ranger and later on, an elite member of Special Forces.
“It was the year of sex, drugs, and rock and roll, absolutely,” he says of a turning point between tours when he realized that punk rock no longer brought him the joy it did as a kid. “I had no structure in my life other than touring commitments.”
But under this surface of “living the dream,” Everman continues, “I was profoundly dissatisfied.”
A friend who was a former Navy SEAL told Everman he might consider joining the military, saying his own experience challenged him in ways he had never experienced before.
“Challenge leads to achievement, and achievement leads to joy,” Everman says of one of his biggest takeaways from his service in Iraq and Afghanistan.
This veteran bears tattoos on his forearms as he talks about ridding himself of the “shackles of cool.” Watch the video to discover his story and how rock music and military service continue to shape his path.
Instead of Letting Veterans Struggle Post Service, GM Trains Them for Dealership Employment
Many Army veterans know a thing or to about maintaining vehicles. And if they can keep a tank running smoothly, fixing a car should be a piece of cake, right?
That’s what General Motors and Raytheon think, which is why the two companies are teaming up with the U.S. Army to offer veterans jobs in car dealerships. According to David Shepardson of The Detroit News, GM has more car lots than any other auto maker in the U.S. — 4,300 of them, to be exact — and the company estimates it’ll need 2,500 technicians to staff them in the coming years. And with the Army planning to reduce its size from 574,000 to 450,000, there will be thousands of veterans looking for good jobs.
So kicking off this month at Fort Hood in Killeen, Texas, is the 12-week-long Shifting Gears: Automotive Technician Training Program. In order for Army members to obtain the skills needed to gain a civilian job before they’re discharged, the Raytheon-developed program is held on the base. GM pays for the training and connect graduates from it to jobs in their dealerships across the country.
Lynn Dugle, president of Raytheon Intelligence, Information and Services, says, “Young Army veterans face unemployment rates that are more than double the national average. Raytheon sees this partnership with GM and the Army as an opportunity to reduce those alarming statistics by helping position former service members for new opportunities.”
U.S. Army Lt. Gen. Howard Bromberg, deputy chief of staff for personnel, said at the Pentagon event, “Soldiers transitioning to civilian life bring exceptional training, values and experience to American communities and their civilian workforce. Properly supporting our veterans requires a team approach from the Army, other government agencies and the local community.”
Along with GM and Raytheon, more and more companies, including Tesla and Microsoft, are stepping up to help veterans transition into civilian jobs. Here’s to hoping that this assistance continue to trend.
MORE: This Innovative Car Company Aims to Hire More Veterans