My Final Act of Service

Two years ago, I was built like a tank. I’ve been built like that my entire life, having grown up as a wrestler in high school and college. Once, way back then, someone looked at me and said, “What the hell are you?”
I look much different now. It’s hard for me to speak for long periods of time, and I’m about half the size I used to be. Now, I’m happy to just get up and walk, which is a mental challenge all by itself. The guy I used to be has been destroyed by chemotherapy.
In late 2015, I was diagnosed with stage-four cholangiocarcinoma, a rare and aggressive form of cancer that starts in the bile ducts. I don’t know how much time I have left; I may not even make it to my 55th birthday this December. But I’m happy that I can go knowing I’ve lived my life in complete service to others and to my family.
Except I have a teenage son, and there’s still so much to teach him.
I won’t be able to impart my wisdom to Mason as he grows up. That’s why I’m making sure he knows now the importance of living a life in service, like I have. The lessons are simple: Be humble, be open and be helpful.
Growing up, my father was constantly working, which meant he wasn’t around a ton. He did the best he could though, and I considered him my best friend. But I didn’t have someone who could mentally challenge me. I got into wrestling in the seventh grade, and my coach became that person for me instead. He ended up being a formidable figure in my life, and I’m still in touch with him today.
You could tell immediately that this man had served in the military — through his mannerisms, his attention to detail and his level of concentration. I thought, “This guy is incredible.” At an early age, my coach gave me advice that to this day I continue to take to heart:
“Don’t be a wise guy,” he would tell me. “Don’t be a showboat.”
Eventually, I joined the Marines, and that advice is what got me through basic training. Now, it’s something I teach Mason at every opportunity. We have a lot of big talks these days — especially now that I don’t know how long I have left to live — and I try to tell him who I was before the military.
I tell him not to be that guy.
When I enlisted in 1982, I was a very private person. In fact, you could say I was pretty closed off. But interaction with people is important, and you have to be open and outgoing. There is just something about being open to new experiences that makes life more meaningful. It also makes you not afraid to help people.

Time in the Marines inspired Anthony Egan to pursue a life of service.

There is nothing more gratifying than helping others, and there are many avenues for doing that — not just through the military.
I joined the Marines after one year of college because I simply didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. In fact, the movie “An Officer and a Gentleman,” about a guy who joins the Navy, came out right before I signed up, and that shaped what I thought the military was going to be like.
I was wrong.
My time in the military wasn’t like a Richard Gere action-romance film. It was tough, and it was terrifying. But it also made me grow into a man that started to think to myself, “What can I do to give back?” What the Marines did was laser-focus my attention and instilled in me the idea that, “Hey, you’re capable of a hell of a lot more than what you’re doing now.”
I left the service in 1988, and it haunted me for a long time. I just missed it so badly. I still say that the Marine Corps was the best job I ever had. But I can no longer regret leaving, because I have the best family God could give me, and I would never have met my wife and had Mason if I had stayed.
“What the Marines did was laser-focus my attention,” Egan says. “It instilled in me the idea that, ‘Hey, you’re capable of a hell of a lot more than what you’re doing now.'”

But here’s the thing: When you serve, the experience never truly leaves you; it always stays with you. Every time something tragic occurred, I would quietly shed a tear. When 9/11 happened, I was choked up watching the coverage on TV. I felt like I should be there — I needed to help.
So off I went to Ground Zero, wearing my old and dated fatigues from the ’80s, and was able to get my way onto the search and rescue team that pulled out the first five people. It was surreal; everyone had the same look on their face, much like how they talk about the empty thousand-yard stare of soldiers who served in Vietnam. There was a gray, pinkish powder in the air, like debris mixed with blood. And it covered everything.
My cancer, my family and I believe, has a direct correlation to my time helping on the pile. But I wouldn’t take any of it back, and Mason knows that.  
And that’s because service is part of me, now. I tell Mason constantly that being in service is such a selfless act. It’s contributing to something bigger than yourself. It just requires humility and the willingness to be open to help others.
Luckily for me, Mason already has most of these traits. But he’s only 14 and has a lot of growing up ahead of him and will face situations where I won’t be there to talk to him.
And that is the one thing that kills me — figuratively, of course — feeling like I’ve let down my son by dying too soon.
He’s talking right now of going to the Naval Academy in Annapolis, Md. I hope he does. He’s smart and creative, and good in science and math. I can see him being a biomechanical engineer or something similar.
But even if he doesn’t go into military, I just want him to be happy helping people. I tell him that if he sees someone who needs help, help them. It’s a really good feeling. I promise.
As told to NationSwell staff writer Joseph Darius Jaafari. This essay has been edited for clarity an style. Read more stories of service here.


Update: Anthony Egan passed away on Sunday, Nov. 19, 2017, with his family by his side. He served as a corporal in the intelligence unit of the U.S. Marines from 1982 until 1988. He then spent more than 20 years working in the pharmaceutical industry. He is survived by his wife and son in New Jersey.

13 Questions with Marine-Turned-Poet Maurice Decaul

On his first day in Iraq, Maurice Decaul realized that despite being a member of the U.S. Marine Corps — an organization that, in his own words, “relentlessly trains for war” — he only had an intellectual understanding of war. That feeling was displaced quickly as artillery fire sounded around him. And in the eerie silence between booms that all but confirmed loss of life, Decaul says that he became a writer.
His transformation from soldier to poet and playwright didn’t happen overnight in a foreign land. Years later, in a veterans’ writing workshop, he recorded memories of that day — an attempt to understand what happened and how he felt about it. Finding words to express his emotions made Decaul realize that the experience completely numbed him. “But writing helped me excavate the why of why I went numb,” he explains, going on to say that the process got him “back to being in a place where I could feel again.” See Decaul share this story of resurrection and recite his poem “And The War Was In Its Infancy Then” at the recent Got Your 6 Storyteller event, a campaign that honors and celebrates the talents, skills and leadership of our veterans, in the video above.
In this exclusive interview with NationSwell, Decaul discusses what inspires his service as a veteran and his work as a poet.
What does it mean to be a veteran?
Beyond the technical definition, for me it means being of service to other veterans, especially younger people. A few months ago, I was speaking with a friend who is a veteran of the Army, and we are both writers and we both served in Operation Iraqi Freedom. I mentioned to him, for me, because I have been fortunate over the years to be offered great opportunities to write and to create, I now see it as my duty to help those coming after by sharing what I know and contacts and being a mentor.
What inspired you to serve your country?
My family and I are emigrants and one of my earliest memories is seeing a Marine Embassy Guard. After relocating to the United States, I found myself reading a lot about Marines. I remember hearing about the battle of Khafji. I remember hearing about those Recon Marines on a roof calling fire onto occupying troops and the audacity of that…I was hooked, I wanted to be like them.
What 3 words describe your experience in the service?
I served in the Marine Corps and our core values are honor, courage and respect. For me, those words drove the way I tried to behave in and out of uniform. At the core of those words is the notion of integrity — doing what is right, not what is expedient or self-serving. Drill instructors ensure that recruits fortunate enough to graduate and become Marines leave training knowing the importance of our core values and integrity. This is key to maintaining discipline and esprit, and I’ve kept these values in the civilian world.
What is the quality you most admire in a comrade?
Enthusiasm for the work we are doing.
Who are your heroes in real life?
The people who I admire are those who are able to take an idea and go beyond having the idea to making something out of it. I guess, I’m thinking broadly about risk takers. People who aren’t afraid to challenge institutions, thought patterns and naysayers. Entrepreneurial people who are courageous enough to try.
Who was the most inspirational person you encountered while serving?
I served with a Marine named Sgt. Ali while in Iraq in 2003. He was my roommate over there and beyond his general excellence, he knew how to lead. He led by example, understood fairness and is one of the most honorable and courageous Marines I ever knew. I know there were times when he must’ve felt fear, but he was resolute in the face of it. I respected him. I still respect him. I felt honored to serve with him. I would still follow him.
If you could change one thing about your service, what would it be?
I wouldn’t. It’s made me the person I am.
What do you consider your greatest achievement?
There isn’t one specific thing, but I know I would’ve regretted not joining the Marines. I’m glad I did, and I am glad I got to serve with great people like Sgt. Ali and many others.
Who is your favorite writer?
I have several writers that I go back to: Yusef Komunyakaa, Yehuda Amichai, Jack Gilbert, Jorge Luis Borges and Pablo Neruda. None of them are more important to me than the others. They inform my work, my thinking. Also, I’ve been fortunate to have exceptional writing teachers such as Edward Hirsch, Sharon Olds, Yusef Komunyakaa, Timothy Donnelly and Anne Carson. I love them all, deeply.
What is your favorite topic to write about?
I write about the people forced to make difficult and/or impossible decisions. Sometimes these people are participants in conflict, sometimes not. But I am interested in the ambiguity, the space between right and wrong.
What is your favorite poem?
Jack Gilbert’s “Married” is one of them.
How does your military service impact your writing?
Well, the wars are often the theme, but I am curious about how people in extremis make decisions and how the consequences of those decisions shape their lives.
What is your motto?
There is no right answer
This interview has been edited and condensed.
Homepage photo Courtesy of Got Your 6.