A Hurricane Demolished My City. My Military Experience Is Helping Me Rebuild It

When I took the job as city manager for Panama City, Florida — the place I’ve called home since 1988 — I never expected to be thrown back into Baghdad.
You see, this past year, I retired after 39 years with the Army, leaving as a two-star general. During my decades of service, I’ve seen what cities look like after they’ve been decimated. As a civil affairs officer in the Army Reserves, I was part of humanitarian efforts in Central America and the Caribbean. I also worked with civilians displaced by war in Baghdad and helped rebuild their city as commanding general of the 108th Training Command.
And I can tell you that after Hurricane Michael ravaged my city this year, it didn’t look all that different from Baghdad.
I’ve trained for exactly this kind of destruction. My experience in the military and opportunities to command have enabled me to not only help the citizens of Panama City recover, but also make our city better and stronger. I want to give back to my community, because my community has given me so much.
I’m not originally from Panama City. I spent my youth moving around — as an Army brat does — and I went to tons of different high schools; a new school for practically every year. But as a Boy Scout, service to my country and to my fellow citizens always stayed consistent.
My family also played a role. I had strong ties to the military growing up, with my father serving in Vietnam and my grandfather serving in World War II. And even though I was raised in the Vietnam era of the late 1960s and early ’70s, when returning soldiers were shunned and spat on, I still felt a duty to serve my country.

Panama City veteran 2
Before retiring as a two-star general, McQueen’s deployments included Operation Joint Endeavor in Bosnia, Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan and Operation Iraqi Freedom in Iraq.

I eventually landed in the ROTC at Auburn University in Alabama and then the Army. That’s when everything changed for me. I was sent to Ansbach, Germany, during what I think was a very dark period for our military. This was around 1982, and I was seeing the effects of Vietnam on our soldiers in real time.
I was a young lieutenant then, and I remember taking soldiers to the hospital for in-patient alcohol and drug treatment. These men, who had served in Vietnam, were just emotionally crushed. I wouldn’t say we were a valueless army, but an army that had no compass. Things started to turn around, when a new division commander came in. He brought in a team of unbelievable leaders, and I saw what the power of leadership can do. When you uplift people and give them what they need, they start to raise their head a bit more.
Fast-forward some three decades later, when I was just a few months from retirement with the Army and I accepted the job of city manager. I’ve lived in Panama City for so many years, and as I was going through my military career, the city took care of me. It was my time to take care of the citizens here. Little did I know that Hurricane Michael, one of the worst hurricanes to slam the Florida Panhandle in decades, was going to hit just two weeks later.
After Michael made landfall, the mayor likened the area to Baghdad. He wasn’t wrong — it does look like Baghdad, except with trees. There was massive destruction. The city’s infrastructure was almost entirely collapsed, and an estimated 90 percent of homes were damaged or destroyed — like a war zone, but with nature as the adversary. The people here have the same needs as those in war-torn countries.
So I thought back to my time in service — my deployment to Bosnia, short time in Afghanistan and year in Iraq, where I helped rebuild infrastructure and organized relief efforts. A big benefit from my time in the Army is that I’ve been able to translate those skills to my civilian career. I approached this new crisis facing my city in a similar way. In the immediate aftermath of the storm, I worked to help ensure everyone’s safety and security. Then I focused on coordinating the efforts to provide food, water and shelter. Now I’m looking at the longer term, asking myself things like, How do I reinvigorate and rev up the economic engine of this community?  
I met with one of Verizon’s top executives when she came down to visit. Verizon has about 80 percent of the market share here, and when their towers got shredded it crippled recovery efforts. After explaining the needs of my city, Verizon decided to reinvest $25 million in the community. Initially, the company was planning on creating 5G networks in four cities. Now there are five, with Panama City joining Los Angeles, Houston, Indianapolis and Sacramento.
We in Panama City are resilient. I know, because I’m applying my military training and experience to this new problem set — and let me tell you we have a wicked set of problems currently — but Panama City can, and will, come back.

As told to NationSwell staff writer Joseph Darius Jaafari. This essay has been edited for clarity and style. Read more stories of service here.

Make Shoes, Not War

A mission is never finished till it’s actually complete. Sounds obvious, of course, but it’s something I didn’t recognize until I left Afghanistan — after my mission was technically “done.”
Growing up, all I ever wanted was to have a mission. It was something that was I born and bred to do. In my family, military service goes back four generations to my great-grandfather, who served in WWI.
But, to be honest, I mostly just wanted to be an Airborne Ranger. Those are the meanest dudes on the planet (it also helped that they jump out of planes and blow shit up). All the coolest guys in the movies were Rangers, and that’s exactly who I wanted to be.
Or, at least, that’s what I used to think.
I graduated from West Point in June 2001, just a few months before the 9/11 terror attacks. It became evident that I was going to be sent overseas. And getting there was grueling. To become an Airborne Ranger, you have to put yourself through hell. By the end of training you’ve lost 40 pounds, you look like a 12-year-old boy, and you’re struggling as the new guy trying to fit in.
On one of my first missions, in 2003, I was sent to the Hindu Kush — a mountain range in northeast Afghanistan that is, quite literally, a killer. Centuries ago, slaves were taken over the mountains, and whoever survived the journey was thought to be a good slave.
We travelled at night through frigid temperatures, with two feet of snow on the ground. By all means, we were physically prepared for this part of the battle; trudging through the world’s worst environments is exactly what we train for. But what I wasn’t prepared for was coming face-to-face with some of the world’s worst poverty. Children with no shoes would approach us, begging for water — and that was the nicest part of the trip. Days went on, and the higher in elevation we climbed, the more dire the conditions for the people who lived there.
At first, when you’re laser-focused on hunting down the bad guys, it’s easy to ignore the poverty around you. But over time, seeing firsthand that kind of extreme hardship and suffering changes you.
When I was sent to Iraq in 2005, I started to think that the overall mission was pointless. I wondered if this war — the War on Terror — would become my generation’s Vietnam. At West Point, my graduating class had a motto: “Till Duty Is Done.” But by this time, it was clear to me that we would never be done with this place. Instead of making life better for people and helping to alleviate their poverty, we were only making it worse.
I left the Army soon after, in 2006, and started working for Remote Medical International (RMI), an organization that provides medical support services in far-flung environments around the world. In my new position, I was sent again to Afghanistan, but this time I didn’t have guns or armor to protect me. I had a suitcase, a backpack and some cash.

Afghanistan Ranger 2
After leaving the Army, Matthew Griffin launched Combat Flip Flops to provide economic opportunity to war-torn areas.

But the places I visited this time around were vibrant and thriving — and people seemed happy. My eyes were opened: If an area was flourishing economically, that meant it was also safe.
“Why aren’t we bringing our economy to Afghanistan?” I asked myself. We have the most powerful economy on the planet. If we could use that influence to promote security, we wouldn’t have to waste a single bullet or sacrifice a soldier.
On one of my missions to Afghanistan with RMI, I came across a combat-boot factory. I saw the base of a boot and thought it was ugly in a cool sort of way and that if we put some straps on it, we could sell it to Americans.
I called up a fellow Ranger, Donald Lee, who had served with me in Afghanistan. Lee was the guy who, during an operations briefing, would sound off and say an idea was shit — despite the fact that he had a lower rank than me. That’s something you just don’t see every day in the Rangers.
I asked him if wanted to make flip-flops in Afghanistan. When you’re doing something crazy and new, you want to do it with someone you can trust to watch out for you. Plus, Lee and I had already gone through plenty of crazy missions together. He said yes.
So in 2012 we started Combat Flip Flops. The idea was that we would go into war-torn areas and open factories there for local entrepreneurs to make products for the U.S. market. Part of the proceeds then fund charities and NGOs that focus on solving local issues, such as girls’ education in Afghanistan, or assistance for veterans back home.
Currently, we’re in three countries: Afghanistan, Colombia and Laos. We’ll design a product and then travel to areas where business opportunities for local residents are scarce. We teach these men and women how to make, export and market the products — besides footwear, we also sell other apparel and accessories — to American audiences.
In Laos, for example, where the U.S. dropped over 270 million bombs in the 1970s and where 80 million of them can still explode unexpectedly, we have local residents manufacture jewelry and fashion accessories from unexploded ordnance. A portion of the revenue then funds the clearance of even more mines in the area. 
We’re creating local leaders, and our strategy has been successful. One of our footwear manufacturers, for example, started with five employees and now has about 35. Last year we donated 2.5 percent of our gross revenue, roughly $30,000, to philanthropic initiatives — that’s a massive amount for our company. We’re able to do that because we run so lean.
I started in the military thinking my mission was simple: Find the bad guys and help my country. But then I learned that in order to help, I really needed to become a visitor and a welcome partner, not an invader.

As told to staff writer Joseph Darius Jaafari. This essay has been edited for style and clarity. Read more stories of service here.

Battling Discrimination on the Battlefield

I will never forget the moment when I was told I wouldn’t do much in my life.
I was in high school in the Bronx, where I grew up, and one of my grades had dipped to a C. I was called into a counselor’s office. She was on the phone with my parents.
“With these grades,” I remember her saying, “she’ll only be a secretary.”
Before that moment, I had wanted to be a doctor. I wanted to do something good and help people. Maybe it was the color of my skin, maybe it was the expectations of women back then. Whatever it was, after that moment, I knew that I would have to fight harder to get what I wanted.
I went to nursing school right after high school. And though I had never considered a career in the armed forces, serving people has always been a part of what I do — it’s part of the job, being a nurse. You care for people. You do no harm.
So when, at 30 years old, I was recruited to be a nurse for the Army, I didn’t think much of it. It was another opportunity to serve. The recruiter came to the hospital I was working at and, along with my friend, we were sworn in — right in front of our patients.

Battling Discrimination 2
After retiring from the military, Annette Tucker Osborne became the Brooklyn, New York, chapter president of the National Association of Black Military Women.

From there, we were sent off to basic training at Fort Devens in Massachusetts. From the moment we arrived to the moment we left, we were all told the same thing: You are not different. As a woman, it was actually refreshing to hear, because it was the opposite of degrading. If a man had to run this long, so did you. If a man had to do this work, so did you. We were equals in that camp.
But that’s not to say that prejudice doesn’t exist in the military, despite how diverse it is.
In 2012, when I was deployed to Kuwait, I was brought into a base camp as chief nurse to help oversee  soldier health. When I met the officer — a white man from Alabama — he looked at me, then looked down at my résumé. He couldn’t put the two together. He seemed unable to equate a black woman with the well-polished and extremely qualified person on paper.
“Sir,” I told him. “What you see on that résumé is me. I’ve worked hard for what’s on my résumé.”
After working together for quite a long time, he eventually came to trust me. After all, he kind of needed to, if he wanted to know what was going on medically with our soldiers.
And then, out in the desert, there were some young service members who don’t want to salute you. I’d stop a few every now and then, asking if they could see my rank as an Army colonel.
After I retired from the service, I was approached by the National Association of Black Military Women, a national organization dedicated to providing support and visibility for women just like me.
As the president of the Brooklyn chapter, which has only been around for a year, I’ve already seen tremendous success in our effort to get the word out to other women that they are not alone. There is a place for them in the military, as well as afterward. We aim to make the point to young women of color, just like it was made to me back in basic, that you are not different. You are just as strong. Continue to persevere and know your goals.
Take it from me: No one can tell you what you can and can’t be in your future.

As told to staff writer Joseph Darius Jaafari. This essay has been edited for style and clarity. Read more stories of service here.

From Battle Scars to Badges of Honor: 13 Questions with Paratrooper Bobette Brown

Bobette Brown, a U.S. Army veteran and motivational speaker, isn’t afraid to speak about her wounds, the physical and mental pain she’s experienced in life. Whether recounting a knee replacement surgery, sexual assault and harassment she experienced in the military or a five-day stretch of sleeplessness from her trauma, she believes that keeping secrets doesn’t do anyone good.

“You don’t have to look like what you’ve been through,” Brown tells the crowd at a Got Your 6 Storytellers event in New York. “See today, you can choose to take your experiences and go from scars to beauty marks. And those battle wounds can become badges of honor. It’s all your decision.”

Known to some of her fans as Lady Bobette, Brown now works as a “transformational architect,” helping to push others forward through difficult experiences through her speaking, coaching and consulting business. NationSwell caught up with Brown to ask about her service as an airborne paratrooper and advice for bouncing back.

What does it mean to be a veteran?

To me, a veteran is someone who has willingly sacrificed and served the United States of America and its citizens. Choosing to serve speaks to the veterans level of commitment, boldness and audaciousness.

What inspired you to serve your country?

I don’t have a heart-wrenching response to this question. Honestly, I decided to join the U.S. Army because I wanted… “Independence.”  I wanted to leave my parents’ home and go “be all that I could be.” The Army was very familiar to me, having grown up in the military environment. When the recruiter sweetened the deal by offering me a signing bonus if I went to Airborne school, I jumped at the opportunity.

How can someone support veterans?

Look for daily opportunities to give back and show appreciation to veterans. As much as I am grateful for the public holiday to acknowledge veterans every November 11, I think veterans should be celebrated throughout the year. Veterans are men and women who worked daily to ensure the safety and security of the U.S.A. If there is an opportunity for to volunteer, visit or validate veterans – just do it. Why wait for a “special day?”

What 3 words describe your experience in the service?

Adventurous. Fulfilling. Inspiring.

What is the quality you most admire in a comrade?

Integrity. It speaks to the character, honor and resilience of the service member. We love the slogan “Army Strong,” but the reality I’ve learned is that we are only as strong as the weakest link.

Who are your heroes in real life?

My dad, the man I am named after, Robert “Bobby” Greene, is my hero. He is a highly decorated career officer, Army Ranger, Jumpmaster trainee, Purple Heart recipient and Vietnam survivor. He served in the United States Army for 20 years. When we talk, I often ask him to share stories of his military career and lessons he learned. He is an arsenal of wisdom. He loves his family and has been married to the same woman, my mother, for over 56 years. They are an example of resilience in military families.

Who was the most inspirational person you encountered while serving?

Command Sergeant Major Daisy Brown. She had to be one of the most inspiring women I have ever met. She broke the ceiling as one of the first African American women to hold such a high rank. Yet, she still remained humble and could always find a reason to laugh. A few years ago, we lost contact. I’d love to know what she is doing now.

If you could change one thing about your service, what would it be?

Nothing. Everything I learned and experienced has made me who I am today. I would not want to change any of it.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

I do not know if I can narrow it down to one, greatest achievement, especially as I reflect on surviving those 20+ mile rucksack road marches with 30 to 45 pounds on my back. I am also proud that I successfully completed jump school and made numerous jumps without breaking a limb. I can remember the number of people who started airborne training with me but did not finish.

How does being a veteran help you to tap into your resilience?

The years of discipline and training in the military have been crucial to my ability to rebound from numerous personal obstacles that I endured throughout my life. Life is filled with stressful experiences, but when I remember the many obstacles I endured and bounced back from, it continues to serve as motivation and a reminder — if I did it before I can do it again.

What is the key to thriving after experiencing a difficult or traumatic experience?

Finding and getting help from a licensed therapist and staying committed to the course. I went to several therapists in the Veteran Affairs system before I finally found the perfect therapist for me at the Vet Center. A good therapist will challenge you to get better. She or he will challenge you to uproot some extremely painful and traumatic events. There were times when I did not want to go back. But I kept reminding myself, there would be a time when I will have to encourage others to keep going. How would I be able to do that if I gave up? So, my desire to help others really helped me to thrive. Also, I cannot downplay the key importance of having a supportive circle of family and friends.

Why is it important to let our fellow comrades in life help push us through difficult times?

They remind us that difficult times won’t last forever. In spite of all that we’ve experienced our comrades are there showing and reminding us of another reality. We can choose to live life to the fullest or we can allow it to suck the very life from us. Comrades challenge us to go the extra mile, while reminding us they are also running in the same race.

Why shouldn’t people conform?

I like to say that being and staying “authentically you” should be one of your core values. Why be a cheap copy, when you can be a truly amazing original?

How The Army Aims to Feed Its Soldiers with 3-D Printers

The year is 2025. A soldier is low on potassium. Sensors trigger. A machine zaps into existence a banana.
Lauren Oleksyk (leader of the Army’s Natick research lab) is working towards a future where soldiers are fed by 3-D printers. Her team hopes to gather personalized information through head-to-toe sensors that will measure levels of potassium and cholesterol, and then use that information to create efficient, nutrient-heavy meals for the battlefront.
“We envisioned to have a 3-D printer that is interfaced with the soldier. And that sensor can deliver info to the computer software,” Oleksky says to NPR.
These 3-D printers would blast liquids and powders into complex shapes, though there is speculation over whether or not these printers would be able to create a solid food without altering its nutritional value. Other companies have already taken to using 3-D printing technology to create food, such as The Sugar Lab, a startup acquired by 3-D Systems that transforms sugar into sweet candy sculptures for wedding cakes and cocktails. And Biozoon’s Smoothfood concept utilizes the technology to create easily digestible food for the elderly. Natick’s problem, however, has to do with the shelf-life of the printed product, since these foods wouldn’t be viable as MREs (Meals, Ready-to-Eat, as the Army has dubbed them).
So that’s where ultrasonic agglomeration comes in.
This technology projects high frequency sound waves at targeted particles to clump them together, and with meticulous modulation, researchers are able to control the ways these constituents bind together (yielding compact, nonperishable, small snack-type items). Researchers hope to utilize both this process and the advent of 3-D printing to create a nutrient-dense, shelf-stable product.
“Another potential application may be 3-D printing a pizza, baking it, packaging it and putting it in a ration,” Oleksyk tells Army Technology Magazine.
The Army only made pizza workable in as an MRE last year, so the idea that soldiers may have access to meals that are customized not only to their biological needs but also to their tastes is a pleasant step forward in the way we feed our nation’s protectors.

How This U.S. Army Base Is Leading the Way in Alternative Energy

As the largest energy consumer in the United States, the Department of Defense is ramping up efforts in renewable energy, and Arizona U.S. Army base Fort Huachuca is setting the bar for the military’s greener future.
Fort Huachuca, located about 50 miles southeast of Tuscon, Ariz., is breaking ground on a photovoltaic array, or solar panel installation, aimed at replacing 25 percent of the base’s electricity.
The ambitious, 68-acre project is described as the Department of Defense’s largest solar undertaking yet, according to Katherine Hammack, assistant secretary of the Army for military installations, energy and environment. Officials hope to launch commercial operations by the end of the year.
The announcement is one of several recent efforts by the U.S. military to implement energy efficiency and renewable energy to meet a 2025 deadline to produce a quarter of all energy from renewable sources. Last week the DoD issued a department-wide directive on its energy policy, emphasizing a push toward more alternative energy. 
MORE: The U.S. Navy May Have Found A Game Changer in Renewable Energy
Thanks to cheaper costs of wind and solar installment, renewable energy installations are expected to rise 37 percent over the next two years, according to research group Bloomberg New Energy Finance.
But residents at Fort Huachuca have been bucking the trend over the last few decades, paving the way for future adapters.
The base has spearheaded a number of energy conservation projects since the 1980s, when the fort installed a solar pool-heating system, a domestic hot water system and small photovoltaic systems, according to the U.S. Army. Fort Huachuca also opened a wind turbine in January 2011 and is home to the Col. C. Smith Middle School, a “net zero” or self-sustainable school, which has won national and international recognition for its environmental design and stewardship.
“The project goes beyond the megawatts produced,” Maj. Gen. Robert Ashley, Fort Huachuca commanding general, said in a statement. “It reflects our continued commitment to southern Arizona and energy security. The project will provide reliable access to electricity for daily operations and missions moving forward.”
The Fort Huachuca solar project is a collaboration between the U.S Army Energy Initiatives Task Force (EITF), Fort Huachucha, The General Services Administration, Tuscon Electric Power (TEP) and German-based developer E.ON Climate and Renewables. TEP will fund, own and manage the project, which means no taxpayer dollars spent on the ambitious installation.
Though the project is months away from commercial use, the public-private partnership underscores a new era of alternative energy expectation, and one that Fort Huachuca has long held.