Kyle Carpenter Quotes

How is one not affected witnessing that degree of evil? You remind yourself why you were over there in the first place- to put a stop to the Taliban and their torture and oppression of their own people. You remind yourself that, if you were able to weaken their stronghold or just give hope to those innocent people, even in the smallest of ways, so that one day they might taste the freedom of safety, then you made a difference. That helps you stay focused. That helps you stay motivated. Life looks different on the other side of a tragedy. The things you once valued have changed. The things you once believed in are scrambled. The things you focused on from day to day are different now. You are still you, but you aren't exactly the same and you never will be again.

For weeks afterward, I could wake up wondering, Now what? Every morning started with a question for which I didn't have an answer, except to do whatever the next thing was that day. I developed a daily mantra, and I still say something similar to myself each morning: "I don't know what I want to do or how I'm going to do it or where I might end up, but as long as I work hard, try to do the right thing, try to be a good person, and try to help people- I can't go wrong doing that."

It is incredible to think about the places freedom can take you.

There was a local Afghan boy, about twelve, who loved the Marines and would always salute us when we would walk out of our patrol base on foot. He and his eight-year-old brother even made a game of trying to snatch water bottles and goodies from the "dump pouches" on the back of our SAPI (small arms protective insert) plates, which were designed to carry empty magazines from firefights but doubled as snack, candy, and water bottle carriers. The two boys got to be friends with us, and through months of talking and playing with us would sometimes tell us where well-hidden IEDs were buried. Our EOD (explosive ordinance disposal) guys made a good show of trying to make it appear that their discoveries were accidental before the explosives were defused, but in Taliban strongholds, eyes are always watching.
One night, about two weeks after I was evacuated, a grenade was thrown over the wall of our compound and detonated at exactly the spot where my now-empty bunk sat. No one was injured, but it obviously shook everyone up a bit. A few nights later, that same boy who used to salute us showed up at our patrol base in the middle of the night to tell us he threw that grenade. He was sobbing and begging the Marines to forgive him and not to kill him. The Taliban had caught on that he was friendly with us and that fewer IEDs were being detonated. They suspected he was the cause, so they beat him senseless- but they didn't kill him. Instead, for his final punishment, they dragged him to the wall of our compound, placed a grenade in his hand, and pulled the pin. A twelve-year-old child was forced to kill or be killed.
That was just one story of countless others we heard- stories of violence, ritual stoning of women, pushing people off buildings for being gay. And children forced to become weapons of war.

As we sat together in that kitchen, with the overhead lights reflecting back against the darkness outside, I had a realization: I could spend my life sitting at that counter, or I could get up and live. I chose to get up and live.

Stay motivated. It gets old. It gets predictable. It becomes cliché. But in the end, it's good advice. And sometimes, you don't need platitudes or well-wishes or rousing speeches or photo ops, you just need to remember to take the step right in front of you and keep pushing forward, come what may. Honors and rewards are great, but it can't sustain you- you have to keep plugging away on the awful days as well as the great ones. You have to keep trying. You have to keep hanging on, even when there doesn't seem to be any reason to stick to it. You have to find that reason within yourself. You have to stay motivated.

I don't remember much about the incident and I definitely don't remember what I was thinking about in the moment, but, again, that's the amazing thing about people: You never know how you're going to step up, or when.

The more I fought for my future instead of against my past, the more I realized that there wasn't just life for me on the other side of this- there was life for me in the middle of it. My life wasn't going to start again after my recovery, because, truthfully, my recovery is not something that will ever be complete or ever be over. But by letting go of a world where I wasn't injured, I could focus on the life I had been given- a second chance that not everyone is lucky enough to get.

I'm proud of what I did, but at the same time, I'm surprised by it. My guess is that you have surprised yourself, too- that there have been times when you didn't put much forethought into the moment but, looking back, you realize how boldly you acted. It may have been the action of a moment or it could have been the strength and persistence of weathering a particularly difficult season in your life. As you reflect on it now, you are probably surprised at what you were capable of doing. The fallout of that time for you might not be as readily obvious as mine was, but the idea is the same: You did what you had to do and you made your world- our world- a little bit better. That's courage. That's heroism. That's honor. Thank you for your service.