May 31st, 2020

Amazingly, since I have served in the Marine Corps ('06-'10) and all the way to the present, none of the men or women with whom I served have lost their lives. The nature of my job in the military did not put us in harm's way very frequently and for that I'm thankful. To some veterans I'm sure that's hard to imagine everyone surviving so long but it's true. *Side note, if anyone I served with can correct me on this please let me know. But to my knowledge no one else has passed away with whom I served. *

However, that was no longer true on May 31st, 2020, when a man I served with at MWSS-272 took his own life. Being the first one I thought it would be beneficial for me to process this with care, and in so doing, hopefully encourage others to do the same. As is common with these events, I regret not staying in touch or spending more time with him when I had the chance. Although during these several days I was able to remember some great moments which had escaped my memory.

I remember a baby shower where he did a keg stand in the kitchen, the first and only truly fun baby shower I've attended. I remember one night where we sat outside of his home, which was tucked away behind one of Jacksonville's many charming strip clubs, and talked about life, religion, family, politics. I don't remember if his wife was there too, but I remember feeling welcomed by both.

One day a few of us decided to go to Emerald Isle. It was the summer I EAS'd and there was a rip current that killed a couple people that year. Naturally, for Marines that sounded like a blast - and of course it was. The current was basically a river running parallel to the shore with giant waves. So, we would get in the water and let it throw us around until we reached the pier. Then we would get out, walk up the shore, have a beer, and do it all over again. If I remember correctly Joe had a brace on his leg because his leg was broken? Or surgery or something. Bunszell was thrown into the pier, but he used a boogie board like a Spartan shield and deflected it. At least that's how I remember it.
"Checking" the VTOL pads at Lejeune got us out of the shop, and one last field op before getting out gave me more opportunities to get to know him and others.

Life was good.

That's Joe on the left and me on the right.

I know the rest of our Shop have even more memories with him and his family. I hope we're all taking the time to thank God for those days. They aren't gone if we remember them.

I also hope this motivates myself and others to reach out more, as well as motivate those who are suffering to ask for help. From boot camp onward we were always told to "police our own". We won't always have staff and officers to make sure we're staying in check or give us a safety briefing… It's on us now. There are a ridiculous number of services available for veterans who are suffering, so it's inexcusable to let those go to waste if you're hurting.

I think it's all too common these days that Veterans act like we have a monopoly on suffering, sacrifice, working hard, or feeling isolated.
We don't.
There are many people who have very similar struggles who aren't veterans, so don't let that be an excuse to not reach out. "But they don't understand me," that's bullshit and quitter's talk. Get the voices out of your head and into the light. Negative self-talk and despair will grab you down into a pit and leave you there to die in the dust. Don't ever let it win, and don't stop fighting.

Anyway, that's about as melodramatic as I can be right now so I'll stop.
His name is Joe Souders, and he will be missed.

Semper Fi.