The True Call to Service
I served as a cavalry scout during the 2003 invasion of Iraq. For those of us who joined as combat arms soldiers in the ’90s, service was about commitment—to each other, to the mission, and to the country. We weren’t looking for handouts. We signed up to serve, to test ourselves, and to be a part of something greater than us.
The Warrior Ethos: Pride Over Perks
The warrior code we lived by was grounded in toughness, accountability, and pride. You didn’t run to sick call unless something was bleeding, broken, or serious. You sucked it up. You didn’t whine about small injuries or chase medical profiles to get out of duty. You pushed through. That mindset didn’t just make us effective—it made us dependable. It forged warriors. It built character.
We weren’t perfect, but we respected the weight of the uniform. It stood for sacrifice, not self-interest.
The Shift: From Sacrifice to Entitlement
Then the culture started to change. And it wasn’t by accident—it was engineered. What used to be a system that rewarded strength and resilience began to reward grievance and dependency. Claims are now routinely filed—and approved—for gym injuries, a single episode of sleep walking from childhood, or anxiety unrelated to service. The bar has dropped, and the line between genuine injury and opportunism has been intentionally blurred.
This isn’t about denying support to those who truly need it. It’s about protecting a system built for warriors, not opportunists. The more we stretch the definition of “disabled,” the more we dilute the meaning of sacrifice—and the more we risk leaving behind those who gave the most.
Honoring Real Sacrifice
I’ve stood beside soldiers who left parts of themselves on the battlefield—limbs, skin, years of their life, and peace of mind they’ll never get back. These men didn’t come home looking for payouts—they came home hoping to function.
The system exists for them. And when we let it become a revolving door for soft claims and questionable ratings, we fail them.
If you’re filing a disability claim for a back injury from lifting weights or anxiety that didn’t show up until you became a civilian, you should feel like the biggest coward in the world when sitting next to the triple amputee in the VA waiting room. This is simply not the warrior way.
The Political Strategy Behind the Shift
This didn’t happen by accident. The shift began under President Obama, and it wasn’t just cultural—it was strategic.
The military has long been one of the last institutions grounded in conservative values: personal responsibility, duty, discipline, and patriotism. But under Obama, there was a clear push to erode that foundation. The goal? Transform a proudly self-reliant, conservative-leaning force into a class of government-dependent voters who align more with the Democratic base.
It started with policy changes, expanded benefits, and new administrative priorities. The language of sacrifice was replaced with a language of victimhood. The mission wasn’t service—it was compensation.
Under Biden, that agenda only accelerated. The warrior spirit was traded for bureaucratic comfort. Personal accountability was replaced by a growing list of entitlements. The military was reshaped—not to fight wars, but to feed a political narrative.
Undermining the Culture From Within
What we’re seeing isn’t just a softer military—it’s a rewired one. Leadership was incentivized to focus more on social initiatives than war-fighting readiness. Standards were lowered. Systems once designed to protect the injured were bloated with claims that wouldn’t have even been considered a decade ago.
And make no mistake: this wasn’t just about policy. It was about politics. It was about shifting a warrior class into a voting bloc. One that’s no longer rooted in conservative values, but in dependency on the very system they once served.
A Call to Modern Soldiers and Veterans
To those who’ve worn the uniform—thank you. But ask yourself: why did you join? Was it for a check, or a cause? Was it to serve, or to earn benefits?
There’s nothing wrong with receiving what you’ve earned. But there’s a difference between earned support and opportunistic claims. We need to be honest about that. We need to look in the mirror and ask: are we carrying the legacy forward, or cashing it out?
Restoring the Warrior Spirit
Service is about sacrifice. Period. It’s not about what you can take from the system—it’s about what you gave for it. It’s about doing the hard thing without looking for a reward.
If you’re holding a 70% disability rating for something unrelated to real combat hardship, ask yourself if you could stand next to a double amputee and claim your sacrifice matches theirs. Because it doesn’t.
And deep down—you know it, you coward!
Conclusion: Upholding the Legacy
We served to give, not to take. The legacy of the American warrior is built on grit, discipline, and service—not grievance and government checks. If we let politicians reshape our military into just another dependent demographic, we lose the very soul of what made it exceptional.
We owe more—to those who bled, to those who never came home, and to ourselves. Let’s not let their legacy be bought out by political convenience and a culture of entitlement.
Let’s remember who we were. And more importantly—who we still need to be.
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