Ok…so I am a couple weeks shy of when I started my terminal leave when I medically retired from the Army. I’ve been stewing a little on the turn of events, and have been greatly depressed and saddened by how things came about, and the aftermath thereof.
Most of you know me as a very generous soul, that will do anything to help anyone that is in need. I did just that during my time at Camp Pendleton. I did what any NCO should do, with the mission always placed first, and the welfare of my soldiers. I drove people around to buy cars when they needed one (on my own time,) picked up kids from daycare, gave my possessions to people who needed them more than I did.
In the long run…what did this get me? Respect? NO. Friendship? NO. Appreciation? NO.
I didn’t initiate my medical board. I am not a doctor. I got hurt, and never really recovered (thanks natural aging process) so the doctors started the procedure. It took over a year.
In that time, I was harassed by my command, bullied by my peers and subordinates, and made to feel useless and unworthy. Being bullied is no fun. It makes you feel like shit.
When my paperwork finally came through, and I got my retirement orders, there was no cake, there was no farewell. I got my retirement award IN THE MAIL. I didn’t get so much as a handshake or thanks from either my Commander or my First Sergeant.
Yes…I retired early. I retired with 19 years and change. I still retired.