I spent four years in the Marine Corps during which I deployed to Iraq in 2007 and Afghanistan in 2008. Every moment spent outside the wire was fraught with incredibly difficult decisions. But getting out of the Corps was one of the hardest decisions of my life. The war — the mission — wasn't over. I had men in my unit who were going to deploy again, and that burden felt as if I alone could bear it. I could keep the men safe. I could save lives. I could halt the evil that forced children to pick up rocket-propelled grenades. Nevertheless, I didn't want my life to be consumed by war. I left the Marine Corps.
Navy SEAL Chris Kyle, whose compelling and tragic life story is featured in the new film "American Sniper," faced a similar dilemma, compounded further by his beautiful wife and young children. "Sniper" is the true story of Kyle, who over four tours of duty in Iraq earned the distinction of the deadliest sniper in American history, with 160 confirmed kills.
The movie hits close to home for me. As a former Marine sniper, I too have stared through a 12x-powered scope at men, women and children, cross hairs settled over unsuspecting hearts. But beyond an incredible portrayal that honors the legacy of Chris Kyle, I found "American Sniper" explained so much more than what people assume or understand about what veterans experience, both in combat and back home.
I watched with fixation, thinking about my own time in combat. During one battle in Afghanistan, a teammate of mine, after killing a combatant carrying an RPG, watched helplessly as a young girl picked it up. With Marines advancing on the position, he was faced with a choice — kill this girl or risk the RPG getting back into enemy hands and killing a brother Marine. He didn't shoot, and thankfully no Marines were wounded.
But the emotional and moral burden of these decisions come with a cost. Later that day, as we were exiting our hide, we observed the senior Taliban leader who had been directing children to serve as scouts and weapons-runners. We killed him, but it didn't alleviate the burden. Instead, it added to our sense that we were the only ones capable of carrying it.
Kyle eventually left the war, but a scene in the movie revealed an all-too-common truth — war rarely leaves us. Kyle is speaking to a mental health professional at a Veterans Affairs facility. During the discussion he states with exasperation his feeling of guilt that he's no longer "over there saving Marines." The burden of killing has been replaced with the crushing guilt of no longer being willing to. The doctor wisely replies: "Look around. There are plenty of Marines here that still need saving."
Kyle eventually did look around. With that advice, and a loving and supporting wife, he found his new purpose — mentoring young warriors in transition.
Like Kyle, I believe leading a purpose-filled existence to be the single greatest factor in personal satisfaction. Purpose can be found in love, spirituality, family, work or any endeavor that forces a higher consciousness beyond the self. Purpose, though often making us shoulder burdens, makes those burdens bearable.
When I left the Marines, even while pursuing an MBA, I was deathly afraid of a life void of purpose. In January 2010, that would change. Witnessing the Haiti earthquake's aftermath ignited within me not just compassion but a compulsion to act. Similar compulsion drove millions of men and women to join the military after 9/11. Compulsion overcomes fear in the moment, and is later reflected upon as courage.
Five days later, alongside eight men, I found myself in Haiti. We called the group Team Rubicon. Together, our crew of military veterans and medics saved hundreds of lives. Our efforts weren't atonement for our actions overseas, but rather an extension of our service and pursuit of purpose. It was a response to the rhetorical question, "If not me, then who?" Today Team Rubicon has 21,000 members across the country and has responded to over 75 missions at home and abroad. Through disaster response, our members find their purpose.
I never knew Chris Kyle, but I knew Chris Kyle. Every member of Team Rubicon who has raised his or her right hand and signed up to keep serving after service knows Chris Kyle. "American Sniper" could have told an easy tale and sold countless tickets by focusing solely on Kyle's historic exploits and body counts. Instead, Eastwood chose to tell the deeper, more complicated and moral tale he did.
Kyle was a legend on the battlefield. He deserves credit for his exploits. But in the end, Kyle was a father and a husband, a man looking to serve his fellow veterans even when no person could in good conscience ask him to serve a moment more. Citizens of this country should watch "American Sniper" because, while Kyle's exploits are extraordinary in scale, they are not unique. Nor are his challenges in coming home. Understanding the burden carried by those who have borne the battle and discovering a mutual purpose will build a bridge between the civilian-military divide and make a better, more unified country for all our citizens.
Jake Wood served four years in the Marine Corps, deploying to Iraq in 2007 and Afghanistan in 2008. He graduated Scout-Sniper School top of his class and in 2007 was awarded the Navy and Marine Corps Commendation Medal with "V" for actions in Iraq. He is CEO of Team Rubicon, a nonprofit organization that recruits, organizes, trains and deploys military veterans for disaster response. In October, Crown published Wood's first book, "Take Command." His Twitter handle is @badgerjake.
