CHIEF WARRANT OFFICER 4 EDWARD MCKIVER
U.S. Army Security Assistance
Training Management Organization
Fort Bragg, North Carolina                                

There I was, a 19-year-old Soldier literally a blink away from disaster and saved only by the grace of God. The year was 1993 and I was a 19K armor crewman stationed in Vilseck, Germany. My unit had deployed to Kuwait for Exercise Intrinsic Action during the fall of that year. We were basically a guard-duty force sent to Kuwait to train with the Kuwaiti Army and provide additional security after Operation Desert Storm.   

I remember it being a very trying time because, except for basic and advanced individual training, it was the first time in my young life I had been deprived of so many things I had enjoyed for so long. Fortunately, I was in a unit with guys I had known in basic training. This made the misery of being a private first class in a combat arms unit more bearable. My friends and I could not wait to get back to Germany and catch up on our partying.  

We arrived back in Germany on a Wednesday. I remember the Soldiers’ families greeting us and our company commander giving a speech highlighting the things we had accomplished, followed by a safety brief. As a young Soldier, I had little interest in the speech; I was only concerned about being dismissed. My friends and I had already discussed our game plan for the week, so the word “dismissed” was, for us, the command of execution to party.

Within 30 minutes we showered, got dressed and were ready to go. My father was stationed in Germany before I graduated high school, so I already had my license to drive. This put me ahead of many of my buddies who were still trying to pass their driver’s test. The unfortunate part of being the only one in your group with a license is you automatically become the designated driver.

We partied hard Wednesday and Thursday nights and planned to party into the weekend. Friday night, my battle buddy and I went to a club a couple hours away from our base. About 2 a.m., we left the club and headed back to Vilseck, knowing the drive home would be tough at that time of the morning. My battle buddy wasn’t much help on the drive due to the fact he’d enjoyed a few too many German beers. However, I wasn’t concerned about the distance. I had driven it before and felt confident I could do it again.  

Although I didn’t feel sleepy as I drove, I knew I would sleep well when we got back to the barracks. That’s when it happened — without warning I fell asleep behind the wheel. I felt the car vibrating and woke up on the opposite side of the road. The car had drifted across the lanes and onto an embankment. Upon realizing what was going on and hearing my buddy scream, I overcorrected. We went across the road and onto an embankment on the right side of the highway, which brought the car to a complete stop. After getting out and assessing the damage, we realized we could still drive the car and continued back to our base.  

Upon driving the remaining five miles to the post, the military police stopped us and asked us a few questions about the damage and debris hanging from the car. The officer explained that even though he could tell I hadn’t been drinking, he would still have to give me a sobriety test. We were taken to the MP station and each told to write an official statement regarding what happened. The MP’s only concern at that time was to ensure we were not involved in a hit-and-run accident or some other violation of the law.  

My buddy and I spent about five hours at the station while the MPs verified our statements with the German police. Finally, we were allowed to leave. That night, my lack of rest, poor decision-making and overconfidence in my ability to drive tired almost cost us our lives.

You always hear how important it is not to drink and drive. However, that’s not the whole story. As I learned, driving any distance when you are tired is just as dangerous as driving under the influence of alcohol. The simple fact is if you don’t get adequate rest before you drive, you may — after the accident — be resting eternally.