Military

Military policeman Danny Brown was working at the massive Fort Jackson Army Base in Columbia, South Carolina when late at night he saw a truck going 13 miles over the speed limit. He pulled it over and asked the driver, dressed in civilian clothes, for ID. He didn’t recognize the driver, who said nothing as he handed over his ID.

Brown had already decided to give the driver a 1408 warning ticket, which doesn't go on the offender's record but does go right to the company commander. To his surprise, the ID indicated the driver’s rank was "07"—a one-star general. Brown writes:

I'm a Pfc - private first class, the third lowest rank in the Army. My primary job is to carry out orders by commanding officers. And here I am writing a ticket to a general. I decided to treat him as I would anyone else and hold him the same set of rules. I walked up to the truck and saluted him. “I didn't recognize you, sir,” I said. Then I handed him the ticket. “Sir, that ticket is going back to the highest command in your unit, which is, well, you. So, when you get back tomorrow, you're going to explain to yourself why you were speeding.”

The general laughed and thanked him, but early the next morning Brown is suddenly worried and stressed. Two MPs in full uniform entered his room and told him that the colonel, who was the police chief of the base, wanted to see him right away. Brown told them he'd be there in a minute, but the MPs insisted, "You're coming with us right now."

Brown was certain he would get chewed out for giving a ticket to a general. "It happens all the time - someone of higher rank trying to intimidate, talk down, or lay into me for doing my job."

At the military police station, in the colonel's office, Brown saluted the colonel and stood at attention. “The general sent this for you,” the colonel said, and handed him a military coin. It had the general's name and rank. It is a coin of appreciation.

Navy Seal Admiral, William McRaven, talks about an important lesson Seals learn: Think first of others. In an interview with AARP, he said:

I like to tell the story of Sgt. Maj. Chris Faris, my right-hand man in Afghanistan. One day, I did a Zoom call with my doctor, and she told me I’d been diagnosed with cancer. I needed to go back to the States immediately to have my spleen removed and start chemotherapy. She added, “Your military career is probably over.”

When I got back to my office, Chris was there, and he noticed something wasn’t right. After I told him, he said, “OK, boss, we’ve got the morning briefing coming up, and you need to be there. The troops are counting on you.”

So, we did the video teleconference with thousands of our team members around the world. And before I could say anything, Chris asked someone to put up a list of the people who’d been injured in combat the night before. Then he gave me a look, and I knew what it meant. I had a problem, but it paled in comparison to what these young men and women were going through. That was exactly the right thing to tell me at the time. It helped put my minor problem in perspective.

Near the end of the Civil War, there was a touching scene that showed the gentleness and tenderness of President Abraham Lincoln. While he was visiting near the battle lines, Lincoln noticed three kittens, who had lost their mother. Moved by their mewing, he picked them up to comfort them.

Lincoln said, “Poor little creatures, don’t cry; you’ll be taken good care of.” To an officer, the President added, “Colonel, I hope you will see that these poor little motherless waifs are given plenty of milk and treated kindly.” The colonel replied “I will see, Mr. President, that they are taken in charge by the cook of our mess and are well cared for.”

One of the officers on the scene said, “It was a curious sight at an army headquarters, upon the eve of a great military crisis, in the nation’s history, to see the hand which had affixed the signature to the Emancipation Proclamation, and had signed the commissions of all the army men who served in the cause of the Union … tenderly caressing three stray kittens.”

Lincoln’s biographer, John Meacham adds, “It was not only curious—it was revealing. In the midst of carnage, fresh from a battlefield strewn with the corpses of those he had ordered in the battle, Lincoln was seeking some kind of affirmation of life, some evidence of innocence, some sense of kindliness amid cruelty. The orphaned kittens were a small thing, but they were there, and his focus on their welfare was a passing human moment in a vast drama.”

There is no shortage of people today who would like to be used to do something important, something meaningful. But most of us aren’t really sure where to start. Maybe a few words of wisdom from someone who has become known for heroism can help us find a starting point.

He pulled a person from a flaming vehicle in South Korea. He served on President Trump’s security detail during the historic summit with North Korean leader Kim Jong-un. He also played a pivotal role in the rescue of junior Thai soccer players trapped in a cave, during which he saved the life of a Thai Navy SEAL. In recognition of those acts, US Air Force Tech. Sgt. Kenneth O’Brien was named one of a dozen outstanding airmen of the year. But the Japan-based airman’s impressive résumé didn’t end there.

On a flight back to the United States to receive the award, O’Brien noticed a 1-year-old choking. He immediately sprang into action, clearing the child’s breathing passage and performing CPR. He said, “I’m thankful that the child is okay and that I was able to help when the family needed support. I happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

But O’Brien seems to be at the right place at the right time a lot lately. But maybe the uncanny number of heroic opportunities has nothing to do with luck. In an interview, O’Brien had this to say:

If someone needs to go do something dangerous, I volunteer. If someone needs a leader, I volunteer. I happened to be in the right place at the right time, and that’s what helped me stand out because I sought out key positions or responsibilities.

He happens to be in the right place at the right time because he put himself in situations where he could be used. He volunteered and found himself being used.

Two defendants who appeared in Judge Greg Pinksi’s Montana Cascade County District court received unique punishments as part of the sentencing phase of their trial. Their punishments involved wearing signs.

Ryan Patrick Morris and Troy Allen Nelson were in violation of their respective probations related to previous criminal offenses. They both lied to the court about having served in the military as a way of receiving lenient sentences for their previous criminal behavior.

Judge Pinksi sentenced Morris to ten years for felony burglary, and Nelson five years for felony criminal possession of dangerous drugs, both with years suspended. Morris and Nelson will be required to write letters of apology to various veterans’ groups as well as complete 441 hours of community service. This is one hour for each citizen of Montana killed in combat since the Korean war. Then, during the years of their suspended sentence, they’ll be required to spend each Memorial Day and Veterans day visiting the Montana Veterans Memorial. They are required to wear a placard that reads, “I am a liar, I am not a veteran. I stole valor. I have dishonored all veterans.”

Judge Pinski said, “I want to make sure that my message is received loud and clear by these two defendants. You've been nothing but disrespectful in your conduct. You certainly have not respected the Army. You've not respected the veterans. You've not respected the court. And you haven't respected yourselves."

Potential preaching angles: Lying places you into a trap. When you try to lie your way out of that trap, it only makes it bigger and stronger. The only way to be free is to tell the truth.