In Wednesday’s announcements, the company explained that its Missionforce National Security platform received Impact Level 5, or IL5, authorization, meaning it is “trusted” to address the “most sensitive, unclassified missions.”

Kendall Collins, the chief executive officer of Missionforce and Government Cloud at Salesforce, said the platform is “modernizing government IT” and that they’re “building the trusted AI backbone for America’s national security.”

According to the announcement, Missionforce is the DoD-authorized variant of the commercial Agentforce platform, which is a network of AI agents designed to support analysis and decision-making.

This is the latest application of the technology since Salesforce won the $5.6 billion contract to build Missionforce in January. In early July, Salesforce said the Air Force deployed Missionforce with the 441st Vehicle Support Chain Operations Squadron to help manage its $13.5 billion fleet of over 84,000 vehicles across nearly 389 locations.

The company called the approval a “milestone” because it moves the national security and defense entities “beyond predictive AI and chatbots” and onto “autonomous AI execution.” The AI agents will have access to controlled unclassified information as well as unclassified National Security System data.

While Missionforce is tailored for government use, the underlying technology is based on Salesforce’s commercial Agentforce 360 platform, which the company introduced in late 2025.

Ryan Von, a writer for Salesforce Ben, a publication that covers the company’s products, described Agentforce as Salesforce’s “boldest leap into AI,” and called the latest 360 variant, “the most powerful version of the tool yet.” He said it’s marketed as able to deliver “accurate, context-rich responses across text and voice.”

In an early review of the commercial platform, Von said demonstrations were promising. Still, he suggested the AI performed best on routine, keyword-based requests while struggling with more complex questions, such as personalized recommendations.

For the Army HRC, the company said AI agents will “provide around-the-clock support, respond to routine inquiries, summarize case histories, and surface relevant policy and career information from approved Army sources.”

According to the company, HRC handles more than 1,500 personnel cases each day. Salesforce estimates the AI agents could save roughly $6 million annually while handling more than 55 million conversations a month.

Bill Pessin, SVP of Missionforce National Security at Salesforce, said that the platform will allow the human staff to “focus more on the complex, career-defining decisions that directly affect the readiness and lives of our Soldiers and less on the mundane tasks that can be handled by AI.”

The trial, known as the Psilocybin Intervention for Veterans Overcoming Treatment-Resistant Depression,” or PIVOT, study aims to include at least 240 veterans, all of whom have difficult-to-treat major depressive disorder and some who also have PTSD.

The study will take place at five VA medical centers through June 2031 and will assess patients’ levels of depression before and after treatment, side effects and overall response among participants.

“Far too many veterans are living with mental health conditions that don’t respond to available treatments,” VA Secretary Doug Collins said in a statement. “Under President [Donald] Trump, VA is pursuing all avenues to evaluate new treatments and offer meaningful relief for those who have worn the uniform. This clinical trial reflects another step toward this goal.”

Last month, researchers with Ohio State University’s Center for Psychedelic Drug Research and Education published the findings of a small, 12-person study on the safety of using psilocybin to treat severe PTSD in veterans.

After receiving eight hours of psychotherapy and two doses of synthetic psilocybin and integrative therapy, nine participants, or 75%, no longer met the clinical criteria for having PTSD.

According to the research, published July 30 in Communications Medicine, participants showed no serious adverse effects, including suicidal ideation or behavior. Non-serious side effects included headache, anxiety and dizziness.

“For a population with severe treatment-resistant PTSD, these results are striking,” said Stacey Armstrong, associate director and senior researcher at the center.

The PIVOT study will involve veterans with major depressive disorder who have not responded to current treatments, including those with or without a diagnosis of PTSD. In the double-blind, randomized trial, veterans will receive one dose of psilocybin or a placebo, along with therapeutic support. They will receive a second dose one month later, also with support, and will be evaluated two to four weeks following each session.

They also will receive follow-up six months after their participation.

VA officials said for the study, they will use pharmaceutical-grade drugs and treat veterans in a “safe, controlled, clinical setting.”

The five VA facilities that are slated to host the research include: the Birmingham VA Health Care System and Tuscaloosa VA Medical Center, Alabama; the VA Portland Health Care System, Oregon; Cpl. Michael Crescenz VA Medical Center, Philadelphia; and VA Puget Sound Health Care System, Seattle.

Trump signed an executive order in April directing the Food and Drug Administration to accelerate the review of some psychedelic therapies to treat mental health conditions. The order also required the FDA, the Department of Health and Human Services and the VA to collaborate on psychedelic research.

As a result of the order, HHS and the VA signed an agreement last month to increase coordination on research, including increasing clinical trial participation, training therapists, nurses and doctors to administer psychedelic medications if they are approved and collecting data and evidence to support patients, physicians and federal regulators.

According to the VA, its staff is involved in 20 current clinical trials focused on psychedelic treatments for mental health conditions, including MDMA and LSD.

Studies sponsored by the Multidisciplinary Association of Psychedelic Studies have shown that 87% of veteran participants in a study on the use of MDMA — the chemical compound known recreationally as Ecstasy or Molly — had significant improvement in PTSD symptoms four months after receiving treatments, and 71% no longer met the diagnostic criteria for PTSD at the end of the studies.

The advancement of MDMA as a treatment met a setback in 2024, however, when the Food and Drug Administration rejected an application to approve it as a PTSD treatment, requesting more research on its safety and efficacy.

VA officials said in a release on the PIVOT study Wednesday that they strongly discourage self-medication, and veterans should not “replace other mental health treatment options with psychedelics or any other unprescribed substances.”

“Proven, evidence-based treatments are currently available at VA facilities to treat Veterans with mental health conditions,” they wrote.

Gen. Francis L. Donovan, commander of U.S. Southern Command, directed the activation Tuesday, describing Joint Task Force Western Hemisphere, or JTF-WHEM, as a purpose-built joint task force that will provide unified command and control at the tactical and operational levels, while integrating military capabilities with the 18 partner nations of the Americas Counter Cartel Coalition, or A3C.

SOUTHCOM Media Relations Officer Steven McLoud told Military Times the activation of JTF-WHEM “represents an evolution from Operation Southern Spear,” reinforcing the command’s whole-of-government, multinational approach to defending the homeland while building on the successes of Operation Southern Spear.

McLoud said JTF-WHEM serves as SOUTHCOM’s “action arm,” focused on what he described as imposing “total systemic friction” against threats across the hemisphere.

He said the task force builds on Operation Southern Spear, which employed “precise kinetic strikes and maritime interdiction operations” to disrupt illicit trafficking and undermine entrenched criminal networks, by advancing efforts to disrupt, dismantle and defeat narcoterrorism networks.

According to McLoud, JTF-WHEM coordinates U.S. military actions targeting cartels and narcoterrorist networks while leveraging the commitment of Americas Counter Cartel Coalition member nations through expanded bilateral and multilateral cooperation in border security, countering threats and protecting critical infrastructure. He said enhanced cooperation and information sharing support the president’s national security strategy, the defense secretary’s national defense strategy and SOUTHCOM’s theater priorities.

According to SOUTHCOM, JTF-WHEM will serve as the command’s operational headquarters for executing missions across the region.

The command said the headquarters integrates intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance, operational planning and multinational coordination while supporting intelligence sharing, combined training, interoperability, partner-capacity building and humanitarian assistance and disaster response.

SOUTHCOM said the task force is intended to increase operational effectiveness against transnational criminal organizations and other threats affecting the United States and partner nations.

“JTF-WHEM strengthens our ability to work alongside trusted allies and partners, synchronize military capabilities and apply sustained pressure against the networks that threaten our collective security,” Donovan said in a statement. “Together, we are increasing security across the hemisphere and protecting our homeland.”

Donovan also said, “Together with the 18 nations of A3C, we are changing the way we confront these threats.”

Gen. Donovan selected Marine Corps Maj. Gen. Kevin Jarrard to command the new task force. Jarrard most recently led U.S. military support to U.S. Department of State-led disaster relief operations following the June earthquakes in Venezuela.

The fall lasted only seconds, but the consequences would span a lifetime.

Under the cover of darkness in Balad, Iraq, Army Sgt. Will Fisher was moving into position for an overnight mission. He fell roughly 40 feet and landed on his feet while wearing about 100 pounds of gear. The force of the fall crushed the talus bone in his right ankle and broke his back. He was medically evacuated to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany.

That fall eventually cost him his leg and his career — the latter more than a decade earlier than he had hoped, and five critical years short of his qualifying for a full military pension.

“I wasn’t planning to leave the Army,” he said. “The injuries made that decision for me, and that was it. The retirement I’d spent almost 15 years working towards was gone.”

Service members qualify for full pensions after two decades of service, but only 17% reach the necessary 20-year mark of eligibility, a 2011 Defense Department report found. An estimated 54,000 veterans sustain career-ending combat injuries before reaching that threshold.

Consequently, medically retired veterans lose part of their retirement pay because they also receive disability compensation from the Department of Veterans Affairs. Last fall, those reductions averaged roughly $1,650 a month, or nearly $20,000 a year, according to the Congressional Budget Office.

The Major Richard Star Act would change that. The bill — named after an Army major who was medically retired after being injured in combat — has backing from nearly 80 senators, more than 330 House members, and Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth.

“It is unacceptable that tens of thousands of combat-injured veterans are denied the full military benefits they earned,” said Sen. Richard Blumenthal (D-Conn.), one of the bill’s lead sponsors, who characterized the offset as “one of the deepest injustices in our present veterans’ disability system.”

Some lawmakers support the bill’s premise, but worry about the cost: $78 billion over a decade, according to the CBO.

Sen. Mike Crapo, an Idaho Republican, is one of them. In a statement provided to The War Horse, a spokesperson for Crapo said, “We owe combat-injured veterans nothing less than our full support when they return from their military service.”

But his office also said Crapo is concerned about the bill’s overall price tag and “remains willing to work with his colleagues to address cost-related concerns.”

The cost previously prompted Sen. Ron Johnson, R-Wisc., to block the legislation, arguing the long-term financial impact required greater scrutiny.

The cost question Congress hasn’t resolved

When it was introduced in 2023, the Major Richard Star Act applied only to those who were medically retired due to combat injuries and was estimated to cost about $10 billion to $13 billion over 10 years. Eligibility was later extended to an additional 255,000 medically retired veterans regardless of how they became injured, inflating costs nearly sevenfold over the same period.

In an effort to help it finally pass, lawmakers in June included the Major Richard Star Act as part of the Take Care of America’s Veterans Act (TCAVA), a legislative package with more than 60 veteran-related measures. The version in that bill would again limit the benefits to only those 54,000 injured in combat, according to advocates and legislative language reviewed by The War Horse.

Candace Wheeler, senior director of government and legislative affairs at the Tragedy Assistance Program for Survivors, said advocates ultimately focused on combat-injured retirees because broader proposals would “balloon the cost” and be harder to move through Congress. But after TCAVA failed to get a floor vote in July, its chances of passing this fiscal year are dwindling, leaving some confused about the status of the standalone bill.

According to congressional staff in Sen. Blumenthal’s office, lawmakers intended the amended Major Richard Star Act to extend eligibility to just 1,124 additional combat-wounded veterans, but the bill’s legislative language was interpreted by the DoD Office of the Actuary as applying to roughly 255,000 medically retired veterans, an estimate the Congressional Budget Office used in scoring the bill, accounting for the additional $68 billion.

However, Disabled American Veterans opposes the larger bill because of its funding mechanism, which would reduce future disability claims for some conditions, including tinnitus and sleep apnea. The group said the proposal asks one group of veterans to finance benefits for another and could set a precedent for future reductions in benefits.

“We would be 100% supportive without the poison pill,” said Todd Hunter, DAV’s deputy national communications director.

Currently, there are two similar bills before Congress: The original targeting combat-injured veterans only, and the expanded version that would apply to a broader group of medically retired veterans.

A career cut short five years before retirement

As lawmakers debate the cost, combat-injured veterans say they earned both their military retirement pay and disability benefits.

After serving eight years as a Marine and spending a few years as a civilian, Fisher joined the Army. He deployed repeatedly throughout Iraq, Afghanistan, Kosovo, Panama, and elsewhere. Then, on Oct. 19, 2009, while serving as an infantryman with Task Force 16, 155th Brigade Combat Team, in Balad, Iraq, rotor wash from a nearby U.S. helicopter knocked him from a ladder during overwatch operations, ending his career.

For four years, Fisher lived with chronic pain, heavy medications, and repeated efforts to save his right leg. Eventually, he chose to have it amputated below the knee.

“The pain was unbearable,” he said. “The surgeries didn’t work, and I was exhausted from daily medications that I didn’t want to be taking, and after all that, my right ankle was dead.”

Two days after surgery, Fisher was back on his feet. Nine weeks later, he was fitted with a prosthesis and walking.

“I have more legs than I have shoes,” said Fisher, who now owns 11 prosthetic legs.

Within months, he was running. Eight months after surgery, he returned to service as a volunteer firefighter. Later, he became Fort Hood’s first amputee civilian police officer, a job that allowed him to work alongside soldiers and train others for duties he once performed himself.

But because he served in that role as a civilian employee after medical retirement, the work did not count toward the 20 years of military service required for a full military pension.

The retirement they wanted but never received

Fisher wanted so badly to stay in the military that when the war with Iran began earlier this year, he called the recruiter’s office to ask whether the Army was taking retirees. He wanted to serve as a military police officer again, this time on active duty.

When Fisher left the Army in 2014, he had earned a military retirement worth $2,166 a month. He has never received it. The Army assigned him a 40% disability rating during his discharge process, which made him eligible for about $2,700 a month in disability compensation.

Under a federal policy known as the VA Waiver, Fisher’s disability compensation reduces his military retirement pay dollar for dollar. Since his disability pay exceeds the value of his retirement benefit, his retirement check is wiped out. But if both benefits were paid, Fisher’s monthly military-related income would be nearly $4,900.

“My retirement pay was earned through my years of service,” Fisher said. “My VA disability compensation is because I lost my leg serving my country. Those are two completely different things, and I don’t think one should cancel out the other.”

Fisher also earns a salary from his full-time job as a logistics manager for an appliance company. But he said the offset still affects his long-term financial stability. With the extra money, he would have more flexibility.

“I’d pay off debt, save some money, and I could enjoy my family a lot more,” he said.

Naomi Mathis understands the strain.

During the invasion of Iraq in 2003, the former Air Force staff sergeant’s convoy came under attack amid what she described as “total chaos.” Mathis witnessed the aftermath of multiple combat incidents, including the death of a fellow service member. After returning home, she was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder.

The condition led to a 100% disability rating from the VA. She was medically retired after serving 7.5 years, far short of her goal of serving at least 20 years and eventually becoming a chief master sergeant.

Like Fisher, Mathis said the loss was not simply financial. It was the loss of a career she intended to finish.

“My career was cut short,” she said. “I was not given the opportunity to serve out those 20 or 30 years. But I would have.”

Mathis qualifies for a special combat-injury compensation fund that partially supplements the offset. Even with that assistance, the shortfall still stings: nearly $800 a month less than if she received her full retirement and disability pay.

With three young children at home, Mathis said financial pressure forced her back into the workforce before she had fully recovered.

“I couldn’t pay rent or feed my kids. I needed a job immediately,” she said. “I wasn’t able to heal.”

Mathis now serves as DAV’s deputy national legislative director. She said she remains grateful for the life she built after military service, but still believes the country’s promise to injured service members should not end when their careers are cut short.

“I signed my name on the dotted line, and I wasn’t just under the impression — I was told — that the military would be there for me when I put up my boots,” Mathis said. “Well, they put my boots up for me.”

Sen. Ruben Gallego, D-Ariz., has proposed barring the VA from collecting voluntary or involuntary separation pay from veterans who are approved to receive disability compensation.

The bill also would allow veterans who later qualify for military retirement pay to remit the net amount they received instead of the gross amount so they don’t end up paying more than they actually received after taxes.

Gallego, a former Marine and Iraq War veteran, and Rep. Gus Bilirakis, R-Fla, introduced a similar bill in the House when Gallego served in that chamber, but the legislation never made it out of committee.

The senator said the legislation is needed because the money is paid out for separate reasons: disability payments are akin to workman’s compensation and separation pay reflects “time served” — an incentive tool used by the Defense Department to manage force strength and design.

“It is ridiculous to claw back money from a veteran who has put life and limb on the line, just because later in life they qualify for disability benefits,” Gallego said in a statement to Military Times.

From 2013 to 2023, the VA recouped $2.44 billion in separation pay and bonuses from 112,834 veterans under a law that the department cites as prohibiting it from paying disability compensation to those who received the pay unless the money is paid back.

The VA has been required to recover the money since the 1940s, and the Defense Department is required to inform transitioning service members of the potential for recoupment. Sometimes, however, veterans are surprised when letters announcing the recoupment arrive, sometimes decades after they left military service.

In one case, an Air Force officer received $30,000 in separation pay in 1990 and received a letter in 2024 telling him his entire disability compensation check would be withheld until the money was recouped.

The situation placed the veteran at risk for losing his living quarters and vehicle, he told Military.com at the time.

“I fail to comprehend how or why they intend to cut me off for several months without even negotiating a lesser but [survivable] monthly contribution. I also fail to understand why it took 34 years for VA to come up with this [scheme]. Why now?” retired Air Force Maj. Raymond Thomas, 75, told the publication.

By law, veterans’ monthly disability compensation can be withheld if they received readjustment pay, non-disability severance pay, disability severance pay, special separation benefits or involuntary or voluntary separation pay.

According to the VA, the recoupment effort hit a peak in 2018 with 17,066 veterans paying more than $396 million.

The Restore Veterans Compensation Act would also change the recoupment rate for retired military veterans who are required to make payments to 25% of their paychecks rather than the current 40% — an alteration that would lessen the financial impact of the recoupment.

When Gallego and Bilirakis introduced their bill in 2022, it drew the support of Disabled American Veterans who said the practice of withholding VA disability compensation because a service member received a separation benefit “must end.”

Sen. James Risch, R-Id. introduced a separate bill Wednesday that would limit the amount that veterans paid each month to the VA for recoupment.

Risch’s Veterans Earned Benefits Access Act would allow the VA to collect the separation pay but limit it to no more than 25% of their monthly disability compensation checks. Currently, the VA can withhold the entire amount of checks until the veteran pays back the government.

“My [bill] ensures that veterans can receive the disability benefits they need while repaying their separation pay,” Risch said in a release.

Under the settlement agreement, NCNG agreed to restore Timothy Stanhope’s access to its Facebook page and make reasonable efforts to unhide his comments.

The agreement also requires the Guard to revise its Facebook moderation policy. It can no longer block users or remove, hide or filter comments simply because they are deemed “inappropriate.”

However, comments will still be subject to Facebook’s community standards, and each side agreed to pay its own legal fees and court costs.

Michelle Scott, an attorney with the Center for Individual Rights, which represented Stanhope, called the settlement a victory for free speech.

“When a government agency opens an official page for public comment, it cannot treat that page as a one-way bulletin board where praise is welcome but criticism is censored,” Scott said. “Government officials don’t get to invite public comment and then censor the citizens who take them up on their invitation.”

In a statement about the lawsuit, CIR said the case was about more than “one person or one post.” Instead, it said, the lawsuit was about protecting the public’s right to criticize the government in online public forums.

According to the complaint filed in March 2025, Stanhope was blocked from NCNG’s Facebook page after years of commenting on its posts.

Although superior officers had confronted him about his comments while he was still serving, the Guard did not block him until after he retired in 2023.

The complaint said Stanhope frequently criticized what he viewed as mismanagement by Guard leaders.

In 2019, he commented, “so when do we get the results from the leader[’]s test?” in response to a post about a combat fitness test.

In 2021, he criticized what he described as the Guard’s “ill-conceived and hastily planned” deployment to Washington, D.C., following the Jan. 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol.

In 2023, he responded to a post announcing an officer’s promotion by sharing the officer’s mugshot from a previous drunken driving arrest along with a news article about the incident.

The complaint also cited several posts Stanhope made on his own Facebook page that tagged NCNG, making them visible on the Guard’s page.

In a statement, Stanhope said the settlement affirms that “constitutional rights are not optional.”

“The right to speak freely includes the right to criticize the government, and that right doesn’t disappear when the conversation moves online,” he said. “Officials don’t get to pick and choose which opinions are allowed. I’m glad the Guard finally agrees.”

Nearly a month later, some military families say the changes have made it harder to find information about child care, community programs and installation services.

Army Directive 2026-17, Optimizing Digital Media, required many subordinate units and installation organizations, including Army Community Service, Morale, Welfare and Recreation, Child & Youth Services, military treatment facilities and other organizations to discontinue standalone Army social media accounts. Instead, those organizations are expected to communicate through higher-level command or installation accounts.

When introducing the directive in July, Army leaders said the changes would “ensure a clear, unified voice, reduce operational risk, and improve information access for Soldiers, Families and the public.”

During the first month of implementation, organizations across the Army, including Fort Bragg Army Community Service and U.S. Army Garrison Bavaria Family and MWR, notified followers that their standalone social media pages would be closed and directed audiences to installation-level accounts for future updates.

This week, the 3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment, known as The Old Guard, notified followers that its Instagram account would be managed by the U.S. Army Military District of Washington as part of its compliance with Directive 2026-17, reflecting the Army’s larger effort to centralize official communications.

Some military families said the transition has changed how they access day-to-day information.

LeAnn Nichols, an Army spouse, said the loss of organization-specific pages disrupted a network she relied on while searching for child care and staying connected with installation resources.

“Military families should never struggle to take advantage of the programs that are meant to support and empower our families,” Nichols said.

Nichols said that Army hospital and MWR pages had become one of the easiest ways for families to learn about available services and questioned why those accounts were removed.

“Statistics show many military families don’t take advantage of programs that they are eligible for, and could really use,” Nichols said. “Now it will be even more difficult to find the information we need on a regular basis.”

Nichols’ concerns come as child care continues to rank among the most significant quality-of-life challenges facing military families.

According to Blue Star Families’ Military Family Lifestyle Survey, one-third of active-duty family respondents identified child care as one of their top concerns. Among respondents experiencing child care challenges, 67% cited long waitlists or a lack of available spaces.

Michael Hanson, an Air Force spouse living in an Army community, said the consolidation has changed how his family experiences installation life.

“The installation feels like it’s gone dark,” Hanson said. “It’s back to COVID times where we’re all living in isolation. But even in isolation, we had social media to stay connected. With the military taking us all over the world, how can we not rely on the social highway?”

Army Directive 2026-17 allows commanders to request exceptions when they can demonstrate a mission-critical requirement that cannot be met through existing communication channels.

Military Times asked the Army how it is measuring whether the directive has improved information access and whether it has collected feedback on implementation. The publication also asked whether any exceptions have been approved, what communication channels it expects families to rely on in place of organization-specific social media pages, and whether the Army has collected data on the effectiveness of the new communication model in its first month.

The Army did not respond before publication.

It was only a month after the roadside bombing. I was still in Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, Germany, in June 2006, undergoing successive rounds of surgery. Rods protruded from my limbs, keeping the broken bones of my right forearm and left thigh immobile until the doctors could complete a series of bone grafts and insert the titanium screws and bars so that my broken extremities would hold on their own.

It was an exhausting and painful process, made easier by the hours of relief spent with my wife, Michele. Unfortunately, the peace between surgeries and checkups was sometimes interrupted by visitors. Privately, I was not enthused. I knew I should have been more gracious and appreciative that people cared about wounded soldiers and wanted to show their support. I was sure there were men and women who had suffered through extended hospital stays and could’ve dearly used some company.

But I just wanted to be left alone with Michele, whom I almost widowed a few days before. On May 25, 2006, an explosive force projectile hit the M114 up-armored Humvee I was in. It killed my commander, Capt. Douglas DiCenzo, and the vehicle gunner, Spc. Robert Blair, and severely wounded the driver, Spc. Matt Owens, and me.

For the first week or so, I put on an upbeat attitude for everyone who showed up. But soon I started asking the hospital staff to turn people away, no offense intended. Some were musicians I didn’t listen to or athletes who played sports I didn’t care about. Maybe even a couple of actors from shows I never watched.

I can only speculate as to their motives. The celebrities were not followed by PR teams or photographers; they weren’t trying to burnish their image. Rather, they appeared to be attempting something genuinely humane and patriotic. I bore them no ill will, but I’d always been ambivalent about pop culture icons on a normal day. The days in Landstuhl were far from normal. Being nearly incinerated pegged my natural introversion at 11 and broke the knob off.

Obviously, I couldn’t turn away senior officers, though I was not sure they even wanted to be there. My own division commander seemed eager to pin the Purple Heart on my pillow and get the hell out of my hospital room. Perhaps it was the smell—no one likes the stench of disinfectant masking the remnants of various bodily fluids. That early in the war, maybe he wasn’t used to being around the wounded. Regardless, he couldn’t wait five minutes for my wife to make it back from the cafeteria down the hall, so she didn’t even attend my “awards ceremony,” such as it was.

Conversely, some of the other officers were almost reverent. One lieutenant colonel’s eyes were dewy when he looked at me, and he spoke in a tone I would reserve for someone who actually did something impressive. I just … didn’t die.

It was odd treatment, to say the least, for a second lieutenant like me. I held the most awkward rank in the United States Army—allegedly in charge as a 22-year-old despite little life experience and a total lack of tactical expertise. If you overplayed your hand as a second lieutenant, you risked irrelevance by appearing heedless and failing to earn your soldiers’ trust. But if you underplayed your hand, you risked irrelevance as an empty uniform in the formation, effectively a sock puppet and paperwork rubber stamp for noncommissioned officers.

All this to say, just about nobody holds a second lieutenant in awe. Being subject to reverent, deferential tones from anyone else in a uniform from any rung below or above on the ladder was, to put it mildly, a culture shock.

That same misty-eyed lieutenant colonel wanted me to chat with his son, a high school senior who was applying to West Point. I was unsure of the assignment. Was I supposed to be an inspiration because I had put on a brave face despite being wounded? Or was I a cautionary tale to get the young man to consider the risks of service? The poor boy looked as awkward as I felt when he came to visit me, still a bit hazy from a recent surgery. Lord only knows what I told him.

I do not remember the officer’s or his son’s name. I sometimes wonder if that kid ended up going to West Point after all. If so, I hope he had a good career.

The respect felt unwarranted. Doug DiCenzo and Robert Blair deserve to be remembered as heroes. The infantrymen, medics, doctors, PAs, and nurses who saved my and Owens’ lives are heroes.

But all I did was survive. After the blast, I was lying in a crater, with a broken arm and leg, high on adrenaline. The most I managed to do was prop myself up enough to wave down the medic.

I didn’t feel even a bit heroic. I felt like a wreck being held together by duct tape and wishful thinking.

There’s one class of visitor I didn’t turn away, however: Vietnam veterans who came to chat with service members who had been medevaced. They handled the situation with the greatest ease. They had seen comrades mangled by combat, and all seemed to instinctively understand the inevitable conflicting emotions that those of us who survived contended with.

They also grappled with a war where strategic goals shifted amorphously over the years, and popular sentiment waxed and waned greatly from its onset to its height. In reality, all wars are full of moral ambiguities once you get past the surface, but Vietnam vets were handed a conflict lodged in the gray both in reality and in the public consciousness.

They did their duty despite getting screwed over at every turn. They often fought in conditions that made anything I endured in Iraq look tame in comparison. Sure, I got pretty jacked up in a war that is difficult to classify as an unequivocal victory, but at least my country loved me to pieces when I got home. My dad’s generation got no such support.

On May 28th, one year to the date of my commissioning, another Vietnam vet visited me. He also happened to be Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Gen. Peter Pace, who came with his wife. I was ragged, unshaven, and had a graduated jar of my own urine on a table between us because the doctors needed to measure my output for some reason or other.

“You look like you’ve been through it, lieutenant,” he said, good-naturedly.

“Well, sir, Baghdad isn’t Hue city, but it wasn’t exactly fun,” I responded.

Gen. Pace had given a speech during my senior year at West Point, and I remembered from his biography that he’d commanded a rifle platoon during the Tet Offensive in Hue. The city saw the most intense urban combat of the Vietnam War.

“Tet was rough, but at least we actually got to fight back,” he said.

With those words, Gen. Pace voiced a frustration that I and many veterans felt during Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom, which were dominated by improvised explosive devices. Killing the enemy isn’t fun or even gratifying, but it is cathartic to, as Gen. Pace put it, “fight back.” It was a catharsis that many soldiers, including me at that point in my career, were denied.

Of course, it was also a double-edged sword since some soldiers suffer moral injury from the act of killing. It’s not something I’ve personally struggled with, but I have friends who do.

The conversation flowed easily for more than two hours. Gen. Pace and his wife, Lynne, told us anecdotes of their early married life in the Marine Corps, which drew laughter from me and Michele. Despite the huge gap in age and seniority, the interaction felt natural; it was a sharp contrast to uncomfortable reverence or the disinterested box-check visit from my own division commander.

Gen. Pace had nearly four decades of service in the Marine Corps to my one year in the Army. The moment had an arc that somehow felt right amid all the wrongness. The torch passed from one generation to another sometimes illuminates a tangled morass, but it is passed down in good faith and allegiance, nonetheless.

In time, the surgeons completed their good work, and I was allowed to return to my quarters in Germany. In a stroke of divine providence, Michele and I occupied first-floor housing. I have no idea how I would’ve navigated stairs on the walker I still needed then. I was able to work with the rear detachment on limited duty in between the fiendish ministrations of the physical therapists.

I frequently returned to Landstuhl for follow-up X-rays and reevaluations. Every few weeks, they cut the casts on my arm and leg back a few inches. I learned to walk normally, then to jog, then to run and march under a ruck again. The unit returned from Iraq, and I was simply one officer among many in my battalion.

Even as we prepared for the next combat deployment, it was a relief to be out of the petting zoo and back with my fellow line animals.

The Army recently established the 08H Army Equestrian military occupational specialty and Staff Sgt. Shawn Tabor and Sgt. Daimien Copeland, both assigned to the Caisson Detachment at Joint Base Myer-Henderson Hall, are among the first soldiers to qualify for the new role after completing an 18-week horsemanship program.

“When the 08H opportunity came around, there was no hesitation; I immediately jumped on it. There was no second thought or doubt about doing it,” said Tabor, who has served in the detachment for eight years as an infantryman.

The 08H specialty replaced the “military horseman” identifier and, according to an Army release, is open to infantry soldiers in the grades of E5 to E9. It is a role the Army says contributes to recruiting, public outreach and military funeral honors.

During the initial 12-week program, soldiers learn grooming, groundwork and communication with horses in the Basic Horsemanship Course before moving on to horse driving and the Caisson Detachment’s distinctive postilion riding method during the Advanced Horsemanship Course for six more weeks.

Copeland, who has served in the detachment for four years, said that when he was in-processing, he was excited to learn about the opportunity to work with horses.

“During my time at Caisson, we had our first state funeral in more than 20 years for former President Jimmy Carter. Taking part in that funeral reinforced the importance of our mission and the honor of serving in a role that very few soldiers have the opportunity to experience,” he said in the release.

Previously scheduled to end, the Army in Dec. 2025 announced it was retaining military working equid programs — which include Defense Department horses, mules and donkeys — in Texas and Kansas.

The designation comes after the Army resumed limited use of horse-drawn caissons at Arlington National Cemetery in mid-2025 following a two-year suspension prompted by concerns over the welfare of the horses. The service halted the program in 2023 after two horses — Mickey and Tony — died in 2022 from colon impactions linked to substandard feed and living conditions.

According to the Defense Department, the Army upgraded equipment to replace wooden saddles with lighter, custom leather saddles. The service also decreased the caisson’s weight by over 1,000 pounds and made other adjustments to lessen the strain on the horses.

A 2025 release also said the soldiers’ training had “shifted from impromptu methods to a structured pipeline,” with the basic course — launched in 2024 — held at a private stable in Virginia and then a six-week camp located at an equestrian sports facility in Florida.

“We don’t get soldiers from horse backgrounds anymore,” said Army Maj. Wes Strickland, the 3rd Infantry Regiment public affairs officer at the time, said in the 2025 statement. “So, we teach everything — how to walk up to a horse, saddle it, clean a stall.”

The Next Generation C-sUAS Missile project comes as the U.S. and other nations are pursuing lasers, microwaves and other alternatives to kinetic anti-drone weapons, such as missiles and cannon, which are seen as too expensive and in short supply.

The Army wants to quickly develop an “extended-range, quick-response missile to defeat Group 2 and Group 3 small Unmanned Aircraft System (sUAS) threats,” according to the Army’s Sources Sought notice. The deadline is August 20.

The initial specifications are for a missile that can intercept a drone flying at 6 kilometers altitude, at a range of more than 16 kilometers. The ultimate goal is to destroy drones flying 8 kilometers high, at a range of more than 25 kilometers. Missile guidance would be via a radar seeker.

NGCM appears intended as a step up — but still compatible — with the Army’s Coyote C-UAS missile system.

“The Army is looking for NGCM to be produced and integrated into the existing Coyote Launch System to provide extended range, rapid launch time, and reduced time-to-target over current effectors,” the notice said.

The weapon is intended to stop Group 2 and 3 drones. Group 2 drones have a maximum gross takeoff weight of 21 to 55 pounds, fly below 3,500 feet and have a speed of less than 250 knots, according to the Department of Defense’s UAV classification system. This includes models such as Boeing’s ScanEagle. Group 3 drones, such as Insitu’s RQ-21 Blackjack, have a takeoff weight under 1,320 pounds and fly below 18,000 feet at a speed of less than 250 knots.

The NGCM missile should take less than five seconds to leave the launcher after the operator gives the fire command.

“The missile must be compatible with the Coyote Launcher with minimal to no modifications,” the notice said.

In addition, the missile must also fit with existing air defense systems, including the Sentinel A3/A4, LTAMDS and TPQ-53 radars.

The Army envisions the NGCM missile system in two versions. The fixed-site version would be equipped with a variety of sensors. A mobile version would be “mounted on tactical vehicles for employment at the halt and on-the-move, providing a scalable capability at the tactical edge.”

The Army is aiming for Technology Readiness Level 7 — prototype testing in the field — by the end of fiscal 2027. Contractors will need to have 50 missiles ready for operational assessment by the beginning of 2028.

Significantly, the Army desires missiles costing less than $150,000 apiece as part of a bulk purchase of 5,000 missiles. While that’s a bargain compared to a $4 million Patriot air-defense missile, critics may still question the economics: An Iranian Shahed-136 drone costs around $35,000.

That’s one reason for the drive to develop anti-drone lasers that, theoretically, cost only pennies per shot. On the other hand, missiles can function in bad weather that disrupts laser beams.