Being a young sailor isn't easy. "In the Navy" is not the hip refrain it once was. Remembering what those who gave their lives for their country were fighting for, however, can affect profoundly even those in the jaded "Me" generation.
I have served for five and a half years. Three and a half of those have been on board the USS City of Corpus Christi (SSN-705). Of the many truths regarding Navy life I have learned, the fact that the enlisted crew of my boat makes her run is the most prominent. Requiring 120 people from various backgrounds with vastly different competencies to work together as a cohesive unit to complete a mission really is mind-boggling. I often wonder how we do it.
Most service members sacrifice so much for others but find themselves questioning their own motives. An introspective analysis of my own motivations was quite revealing to me.
Why did I join the Navy at 19? I grew up wanting to fly jets for the Navy because of the character Maverick in Top Gun. A recruiter told a very sad 13-year-old boy that his glasses would prevent him from realizing his dream. Soon after that, The Hunt for Red October was released and my fate was sealed. I wanted to con a submarine when it counted: in a time of war, lining up for the kill and sending another ship to the bottom of the ocean. When all the dust of my adolescence settled I found myself entering the enlisted nuclear pipeline. It was not where I expected to be. I had planned on driving submarines, not manning them. But many of my choices in college were juvenile and silly, and they prevented me from receiving a commission at that time. Experience—the teacher that it is—has shown me a lot.
The enlisted person's role in the Navy has undergone significant changes in two centuries. These changes came about because of new technologies, new goals, and better education. The Navy has gone from sailing ships firing broadsides into our enemies to conflicts using an array of surgically precise high-tech weapons fired by high-tech crews. No longer are sailors kidnapped from the wharves and impressed into service. We volunteer now—some for honor, some out of a sense of duty, and some for other personal reasons. Sailors today do not fear floggings, keelhaulings, or beatings from their officers. We now are professionals defending an idea—democracy. I once was told freedom is not free; I did not know what that meant until I had to kiss my wife goodbye for a six-month deployment. I understand it now.
I and thousands of others sacrifice a part of our lives so others can live theirs however they choose. Initially, these sacrifices caused me to question my enlistment. I have counted the days I had left in service. I have tried to convince others not to reenlist. I found it necessary to justify my reenlistment with many reasons that always placed blame. I had forgotten why I enlisted and then reenlisted. I had forgotten that I bask in the opportunity to honor our flag and know that, in some small way, I help to keep it flying.
I enlisted because my grandfather was proud of the fact he had served and that I intended to serve one day. I did it because it was the right thing to do. I was ashamed to admit this to my friends. My need to be included with popular culture, to be part of the "in" crowd, caused me to deny my own beliefs.
Today, many people frown on patriotism and valor because these concepts appear outdated and cumbersome. Those displaying signs of these ideals in the Navy are called "diggits," as in digging the Navy. It just isn't cool to "dig" it. I have joined in the snickering and the laughter—when I shouldn't have. Not only was I laughing at diggits, I was laughing at all those who gave their lives for this country because they believed it was the right thing to do.
I am not just a fan of U.S. history; I am enraptured by it. I have nothing but respect for the valiant charges, mighty sea battles, and individual sacrifices that have kept this country free. Why did I laugh at a friend serving his country? Where did this come from? Where did the honor go?
Love of country no longer is in vogue. Children no longer want to grow up to be President, and our police, politicians, and the military are not respected as they once were. Many would rather be immersed in themselves than sacrifice for others. I believe this word lies at the center of it all—sacrifice. Today this means something far different from what it has in the past. Sacrifice now is working a few extra hours for a new television or nicer clothes. It used to be giving up something for someone else. Many were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, giving up their lives, so that others could live in peace and freedom. They lost everything yet gained a place in our hearts forever.
My beliefs began to reflect those of the "Me" generation until the day I returned from my last deployment. While unpacking I noticed something in my bedroom that I had forgotten I had: the flag that had graced my grandfather's coffin, still folded from the funeral. My grandmother gave it to me because she knew I was joining the service and felt I was the right person to have it. This flag and the pride and sacrifice it represents made me understand that I am doing the right thing. My job consists of long hours, missed nights with my family, and a lot of work. My reward is the respectful look from a veteran and the understanding that I carry on a tradition that has made this country great. My countrymen are free, my family is free, and I am free—I cannot ask for anything more.
I love my country, and I never will be ashamed to admit it again. When the time comes for Americans to put their lives on the line, I will be there for as long as I can serve. Everyone who has died for this country has left behind many others. Their solace is knowing that those deaths were not in vain. Abraham Lincoln expressed this perfectly in his Gettysburg Address. We would be wise to remember his words.
I have two paintings in my home to remind me of those sacrifices. One is of Colonel Joshua Chamberlain standing above Little Round Top giving the order to fix bayonets and charge. His heroism saved the field at Gettysburg and possibly the Union. The other is of a man in a suit leaning against the Vietnam War Memorial sobbing. In his reflection you see those he knew who died in that conflict. I pass these two paintings as I leave for work everyday, and I am filled with a sense of awe at the sacrifices so many others made for our country. I hope that when the time comes I can measure up.
Until then I will be proud to be an American sailor. I will stand up and defend others' commitment and faith. I will help carry this awesome burden that was laid on our collective shoulders by the sacrifices of so many before us. I no longer will be on the wrong side of the battle that wages in our society. I will have unwavering faith in my commitment, and I will ensure that those before me shall not have died in vain.
Petty Officer Cochenour is a nuclear reactor operator on board the USS City of Corpus Christi (SSN-705).
An Epiphany of Sacrifice
By Electronics Technician First Class Mark D. Cochenour II, U.S. Navy