NAME WITHHELD BY REQUEST

It had been a difficult and challenging few weeks in flight training at Fort Rucker, Alabama. I was a very green warrant officer not long out of candidate school and only 24 years old. I thought I had the world by the tail and my future looked so bright I had to wear shades. Given the hard work we had been putting in the past few days, a number of us decided to relieve some stress at a local Daleville watering hole. We arrived early in the evening and commenced to partying like the young guns we were.

The drinks were flowing and we were having fun. It was starting to be a great evening. But we made a tactical error in not identifying a designated driver or planning for a cab. Despite my increasingly inebriated state, I recognized that fact and decided to lay off drinking the rest of the evening so I could drive us home. I switched to drinking water, hoping that would enable me to safely operate a car in a couple of hours.

The night wound down and we closed the bar. I felt fine to drive (or so I thought) and my cohort was in no condition to get behind the wheel. I planned to drive us back to the bachelor officers’ quarters on post. Shortly after getting into the car, my buddy passed out in the passenger’s seat. I drove to a rarely used back gate near the bar that would provide us the shortest route to the BOQ, minimizing our time on the road.

The BOQ was in view and it would only take a minute or two to drop off my buddy and then move on to my room. It was then I spotted a blue lights flashing in my rearview mirror. A sight everyone dreads seeing was at my six. I couldn’t believe it was happening to me.

I pulled over to the side of the road and waited for the military police to approach. Thoughts of the career suicide I was about to commit were running through my head. If I was lucky, I could get my enlisted job back on M3 Bradleys. Worst case, I could be back at Pizza Hut, tossing pies.

I rolled down the window as the MP came up to the side of my car. The first thing he noticed was my passed-out friend in the passenger’s seat.

“Do you know why I pulled you over,” he asked.

“Uh, I have no idea,” I replied.

“You didn’t come to a full stop at the stop sign back there when you came on post,” he said. “What’s wrong with him?”

I told him we had been at a bar and he’d had too much to drink and passed out. As I handed my license and insurance to the MP, he asked me if I had been drinking.

“Of course not,” I lied.

He proceeded to return to his vehicle as another MP car parked in front of mine. After a short delay, both MPs approached my vehicle. They clearly doubted my story as they asked me to step out of the vehicle and submit to a sobriety test. There I was on the side of road, performing the tests to the best of my ability. I thought I was doing well and home free until they brought out the breathalyzer. I remember thinking, “Why didn’t they just bring that out first and get it over with,” as I blew into it. I thought for sure I was dead meat. Those things don’t lie, right?

Well, I must have passed because they released me to drive home. I never did find out what I blew, but I didn’t care at that point. I just wanted to get back to the BOQ and put this night behind me. The MPs even congratulated me on being such a responsible officer and driving my passed-out friend back from the bar. They took my name and unit and promised to let my chain of command know what a great job I did. If they only knew!

To this day, I still can’t believe I made it out of that situation scot-free. I thought for sure I was going to be talking to the boss on Monday morning and getting my discharge papers in order. Despite all of the safety briefings, classes and options available to me, I still took a stupid chance and drove after drinking. And this was after a classmate got drunk, fell asleep at the wheel, crossed a median and struck a car head-on, killing two people. The same thing could have easily happened to me.

I vowed never to let something like this happen to me again — a promise I have kept to this day. I was fortunate not to have ruined my Army career or, worse, had an accident that injured or killed others. As leaders, we are expected to set the example. We have to stay engaged and disciplined and hold ourselves accountable to the same standard we expect from our Soldiers. I learned from my experience and have chosen to set the kind of example my Soldiers can follow.