03/22/2026
Newest NyceSave LLC Blog Post:
The Silent Battles I Carried: From Combat to the Fireground
I watched a podcast today, that a friend and mentor of mine had, it really hit home and made me think. So here goes nothing with our newest blog post.
I started my career in the United States Army, deployed to Afghanistan in a combat role. Like many who have worn the uniform, I learned quickly what it meant to operate under pressure, to make decisions that mattered, and to live with the consequences long after the mission has ended.
When my time in the military transitioned, the mission did not stop—it just changed form.
For the past 24 years, I have served as a firefighter, EMT, and HazMat technician, both in the volunteer and career fire service. Different uniform. Same responsibility. Same expectation: show up, no matter what, get the job done.
And over time, the experiences stack.
I’ve lost friends in combat.
I’ve seen friends come home injured—some wounds visible, others are not.
I’ve watched brothers and sisters get hurt on and off the fireground.
And through all of it, I did what most of us are trained to do:
I kept going, pushing myself forward.
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The Weight We Don’t Talk About
There is a unique kind of weight that comes with living in both worlds—military and first responder.
You don’t just witness trauma. You build relationships inside it.
The people next to you aren’t just coworkers. They are your family.
So, when something happens—whether it’s overseas or on a call—it hits differently.
But we don’t always talk about that.
Instead, we compartmentalize.
We push it down.
We focus on the next mission, the next call, the next shift.
Because that is what we are trained to do.
Until one day, you realize you’ve been carrying more than you ever processed.
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The Culture of “Just Handle It”
In both the military and the fire service, there is an unspoken expectation of:
Just Handle it.
No hesitation. No complaints. No weakness. Just do the task at hand and drive on.
And to be clear—that mindset saves lives in the moment. It’s necessary when things are chaotic and seconds matter.
But what works on the battlefield or the fireground doesn’t always work afterward.
Because trauma does not stay where it happened.
It follows you home.
It shows up in your sleep.
It affects how you connect—or don’t connect—with the people closest to you. (Ask me how I know)
And for a long time, many of us believe we’re supposed to just deal with it on our own. That nobody out there understands us or what we have been through.
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When It Gets Personal
Losing people changes you.
Seeing friends hurt changes you.
And when it happens more than once—across different chapters of your life—it layers. You really become an onion so as Shrek says we have layers. But what are those layers?
Combat experiences don’t just disappear when you leave the military.
Fireground incidents don’t just stay at the station.
They come back. Sometimes they come back at random times. Sometimes it’s the smell in the air, an odd shaped object near the road, or even driving past the scene of an incident.
They stack up.
And if you don’t acknowledge that, it can start to affect everything:
- Your mindset
- Your relationships
- Your ability to slow down
- Your sense of normal
For me, the hardest part wasn’t the experiences themselves—it was realizing how much of them I had carried without ever really unpacking them. The harm it caused to my personal relationships.
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Mental Health Is Part of the Job
We train constantly for physical readiness:
- Tactics
- Equipment
- Response protocols
But mental readiness? That’s often left up to the individual.
It shouldn’t be.
Mental health awareness isn’t about being “soft.” It’s about being effective—for the long haul.
Because you can’t keep showing up for others if you’re running on empty.
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What I’ve Learned
After years in both the military and the fire service, here’s what I know:
- You don’t have to carry everything alone (use your peer support)
- What you’ve experienced matters—and it affects you, whether you acknowledge it or not. (Be the support for the others around you.)
- Talking about it doesn’t make you weaker—it makes you more capable of continuing the mission. (Maybe somehow, it’ll help takeoff some of the layers you’ve built up.)
And maybe most importantly:
Checking in on your people needs to go beyond “you good?”
Because sometimes, the answer is no—and that’s where real support begins.
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The Call to Action: This Is On Us
If you are reading this and you wear—or have worn—any of the uniforms, this part is for you.
We need to stop treating mental health like it’s optional.
This isn’t about awareness posters, annual briefings, or checking a box. This is about survival—ours and the people we serve next to our family.
To the individual:
Stop ignoring what you’re carrying.
Stop telling yourself it doesn’t affect you.
If something is off—sleep, anger, numbness, isolation—pay attention to it.
Talk to someone. A friend. A peer. A professional.
You wouldn’t ignore a physical injury—this is no different.
To the senior guys, the leaders, the ones people look up to:
Set the tone.
If you don’t talk about it, no one else will.
Your people are watching how you handle stress, loss, and pressure.
Give them permission to be human by being real yourself.
Leadership isn’t just about performance—it’s about protection. And that includes mental health.
To the departments, commands, and organizations:
Stop saying you support mental health—Prove it
Make resources accessible without stigma or career fear.
Train for mental resilience the same way you train for physical readiness.
Follow up after the hard calls, not just immediately—but weeks and months later.
Because one conversation right after an incident isn’t enough.
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The Reality
We are losing too many of our own—not just on the job, but after it.
Not from fire.
Not from combat.
But from what they carried afterward. (Us military folks know this as the 22 a day)
That should hit harder than anything else. To me it does. I have had the dark moments in my life with dealing with depression, anxiety, anger, and PTSD
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Final Thought
We’ve all been trained to run toward the problem.
This is one of those problems.
So, start treating it like one.
Check on your people.
Have the uncomfortable conversations.
Be honest about where you are at.
And when you need help—get it. This does not make you weak in all reality. It just shows how strong you really are.
Because the mission doesn’t end when the call is over.
And if we don’t take care of our own—no one else will.
