As a recently-commissioned officer in the Air Force, I reported to my first duty station at Vandenberg Air Force Base in California in November 1987. My plan was a full military career with a start as a Missile Launch Officer. To a young military officer in the late 1980s, the absence of war meant peace. Fast forward four years, two promotions, and a series of roles that saw a progression from Deputy Launch Officer to Missile Combat Crew Commander. Assignment to the training squadron and then as a flight commander, my career progression was in line with my plan. Susan and I had a son in June of 1992 and were enjoying our young family. It was soon to be time for me to learn if I really had peace.
In September 1992, the Air Force announced a reduction in force (RIF), and I learned my name was on the list. I had until December 31 to complete my separation from the military and start a new career. I don’t remember feeling anger, just numbness. With a wife and a baby, what did the future hold? Somewhere during this time I was approached by my commanding officer with a request. He asked if I would work on training my replacements. Oddly enough, I had become something all organizations try to avoid. Following the publication of the RIF list and in review of my duties, it was determined I was a single point of failure in the training squadron. I was the only person at Minot Air Force Base, North Dakota with the proper clearance and the technical knowledge to program the missile training simulators. I specifically use the word request about the discussion with my Colonel and not order. The involuntary separation was announced in such a way that I could choose to separate at any point prior to December 31. I was being given a choice as to how to end my military career.
October and November passed, the replacement training was going well, I had been on a few job interviews, but nothing had yet materialized. In early December, I was approached by a young lieutenant much on the same career path I had followed. He asked if we could speak in private. What he proceeded to share with me has shaped my definition of being at peace. Little to my knowledge, he had been watching how I handled my last three months of military service. He shared that my behavior was helping him in moving forward in his life. Shortly before our son was born, the lieutenant and his wife had lost their child to SIDS. I’m not sure I will ever understand what he saw in my behavior, but during that Advent season it helped me understand that peace is not the absence of war. Peace can only come from knowing that whatever may happen in this life, someone greater is in control.
Upon separation from the Air Force, I landed a job in Houston, worked for 31 more years, and retired. We have watched three children grow into amazing adults. We love having the next generation to spoil and to help learn that peace is much more than the absence of war.
