In the last four days I've had time to think about my life and the things I've done.
My life began humble enough in a small town in Missouri. Growing up my family still held strongly to our Irish clan roots. My grandfather and my father were both pipe smokers. I never can recall a memory of either of them without their pipes. We worked hard where I grew up. From my first memory when we woke up we were set to a task and only stopped when the sun fell. This went as such until I was allowed at sixteen to be taken into the family business of moonshine. Grandpa made it, Dad sold it, and I delivered. So it went until I joined the army at 17. My father and I began to fight as father and son often do. So I set off to see the world and everything in it. When I joined the army the recruiter talked me into becoming an airborne ranger. Being 17 it sounded awesome. After completing my schools I went to Afghanistan. I was thrust into a man's world of death and torment though only myself a child. I did exceedingly well with my assigned tasks. Thus after my tour I was offered a chance to go to sniper school and I took it. After my completion of sniper school I was assigned to the 75th rangers. I then proceeded to take a second tour of Afghanistan and other various countries. In the midst of this I kept a pipe close at hand like a council that would help me feel as though everything was ok. Still to this day when I light my pipe I feel the same way. Even with the loss of my leg I have no regrets.
My life began humble enough in a small town in Missouri. Growing up my family still held strongly to our Irish clan roots. My grandfather and my father were both pipe smokers. I never can recall a memory of either of them without their pipes. We worked hard where I grew up. From my first memory when we woke up we were set to a task and only stopped when the sun fell. This went as such until I was allowed at sixteen to be taken into the family business of moonshine. Grandpa made it, Dad sold it, and I delivered. So it went until I joined the army at 17. My father and I began to fight as father and son often do. So I set off to see the world and everything in it. When I joined the army the recruiter talked me into becoming an airborne ranger. Being 17 it sounded awesome. After completing my schools I went to Afghanistan. I was thrust into a man's world of death and torment though only myself a child. I did exceedingly well with my assigned tasks. Thus after my tour I was offered a chance to go to sniper school and I took it. After my completion of sniper school I was assigned to the 75th rangers. I then proceeded to take a second tour of Afghanistan and other various countries. In the midst of this I kept a pipe close at hand like a council that would help me feel as though everything was ok. Still to this day when I light my pipe I feel the same way. Even with the loss of my leg I have no regrets.
