On the other hand, as his wife, I have had that concern from the very beginning. Is he going to change? What would that mean for our marriage? Is he going to be closed off? I knew Everest could have effects similar to those of PTSD from combat.
That’s why I cared so much about the expedition. I didn’t have PTSD and my husband didn’t have PTSD, but the possibility of it affecting my life was certainly real. The fact that it does affect many military families was real to me. I just wished it was talked about more from the perspective of the families.
Even if our Soldiers don’t end up with PTSD, we as spouses live with that concern. It’s the fear of the person you love more than anything going through something you can’t do anything about. Watching the person you love the most struggle and knowing you can’t really help him…that’s what so many spouses and family members experience.
To be honest, we were in a bit of a funk as we tried to transition back into our normal life. I was going full force with my vlogs, posting a new video nearly every day. Harold wasn’t used to being home all day and having to do normal tasks around the house, like sweeping or washing dishes. This led to some arguments, as he didn’t take too well to this change in roles.
Our failure came in not discussing what his being home more would look like. Harold felt like he wasn’t as productive as he wanted to be because he was having to stop what he was doing to take the dogs out to potty. What he didn’t realize was that I was always at home. I had to juggle all the normal housework and take care of the dogs while also managing to do my own work.
It caused some friction, but our arguments never lasted long because we can’t stand to be upset with each other. We talked it out, and it ended up being a necessary and eye-opening conversation. We knew if we wanted to bring kids into our new family, the level of responsibility was going to skyrocket for both of us and we needed to figure all this out beforehand. Bottom line: he was going to have to step up a lot. If we had just talked about our changing roles in advance, we could have avoided that whole argument.
HAROLD
Rachel actually told me during one of our arguments that we weren’t ready for kids because I wasn’t being the husband and partner I needed to be. This hurt because I have always wanted to be a father, but she was right. I wasn’t being a team player. If it didn’t have to do with what I wanted or was working on, then I wouldn’t do it. It sounds pathetic, and it was, but I needed to mature as a man and as a partner in our relationship. I was getting mad at her for things she wasn’t doing for me, never once thinking about the things I should be doing for her.
We eventually sat down to have a heart-to-heart, and we decided to start doing things for each other to show we care. One night, Rachel made me a handwritten card that she taped on the door so I’d see it before I left for work, addressed to “my sweet, funny, extra handsome, loving, kind, goofy, passionate, hardworking, God-fearing husband.” She also put a sticky note on my box of Krave cereal that said, “I Krave you all the time .” I bought her flowers (well, actually, I picked them from the yard of a neighbor who’d just moved), put them in the vase I brought her from Tibet, set out the flowers and a banana for when she woke up, and wrote her a letter.
Transition periods, reunions, and reintegration can often be some of the most challenging times in a relationship, and I think it all boils down to expectations. We often expect that the moment we’re reunited with our loved one, everything will easily fall into place again. We’ve naturally built it up in our mind, forgetting that one or both people probably feel physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted.
Something Rachel and I have learned is that if you aren’t feeling the love from your spouse, there is a good chance you aren’t giving it either. When you start to intentionally do things out of love, there is a good chance that love will be returned.
*1 Watch Dave in the midst of the storm at Earls.org/descent.
*2 Watch the video of us reuniting in the airport at Earls.org/homecoming.
21
Ranger School
HAROLD
Research shows that it takes the human body six months to an entire year to recover from Everest. Fewer than two months after climbing Everest, I planned to go to Ranger School. Ranger School is one of the toughest schools in the military, designed to break your body down physically. It includes moving through swamps carrying rucksacks weighing more than one hundred pounds and enduring exhaustion and sleep deprivation. The goal is to push your body further than it thinks it can go.
The first week is called RAP week, which stands for Ranger Assessment Phase. Basically, it’s meant to assess your physical stamina and mental toughness and ends with a twelve-mile ruck march, in which you carry almost fifty pounds on your back. You have to complete the event in a certain amount of time; if you don’t, you fail and go home.
My body was still in a weakened condition. While I had regained most of my weight, my body didn’t feel or perform the same. I was still dealing with nerve damage in my foot from frostbite, and I prayed my body would hold up.
RACHEL
As we got back in sync, I did my best to help Harold prepare for Ranger School. I made checklists of all the gear he needed, helped him pack, and went on runs with him so he could practice rucking. We’d done this before when he was training for Everest, but this time, the backpack Harold was carrying was heavier and camouflaged.
Meanwhile, I was trying to prepare myself for his absence again. He’d been gone for two months for Everest, been home for fewer than two months, and was about to leave again for anywhere from two to six months. As much as I didn’t want to acknowledge it, the upcoming separation was inevitable. He soon laced up his military ACU boots for the first time since his frostbite. Then he shaved his head with no guard on the clippers (hello, Baldy!), which is the standard haircut for Ranger School.
My goal this time while Harold was gone was to simply be happy and do things to stay busy, just not as extreme as before. I knew Ranger School was going to be trying, but at least it wasn’t life threatening like Everest, right? I didn’t know how dangerous it actually was until the first week.
This time around, I’d made friends with my neighbors and felt a sense of community. Even though I’d have hardly any communication with Harold, I knew he was relatively close by instead of being on the other side of the world. That made me feel good.
A couple of days after Harold left, I got a message from a person in the military community that someone at Ranger School had passed away. As I read those words, I felt every single emotion. It was heartbreaking. Second Lt. Michael R. Parros was treated for hyponatremia (low sodium in the body) at the hospital but did not make it. I was heartbroken for his family and loved ones. This brought the realization to the forefront of my mind of just how dangerous the military lifestyle is. I didn’t know if Harold knew him or if he had been present when it happened. My mind was all over the place. All I could do was pray for peace that surpasses all understanding. I was prepared (as much as I could be) for the possibility of Harold’s death on Everest, but his going into Ranger School was supposed to bring a sense of relief. Now it didn’t. All I wanted to do was talk to Harold.
HAROLD
I was actually doing push-ups and other physical exercises off and on throughout the day next to Mike (2LT Parros). He was in great shape and had been a fellow athlete at West Point, so we were drawn to each other due to our similar backgrounds. We encouraged each other when we’d pass by during physical events. It was heartbreaking to lose a fellow Ranger buddy.
The following day was eerily somber as we silently did push-ups while the Ranger instructors’ hollering fell on deaf ears. The tragedy of Mike’s passing left me with the gripping realization of just how hard Ranger School could be, and it gave me an enormous amount of self-doubt. How could I pass Ranger School, much less the ruck march—a final test of grit and physical
stamina—when my body was still not even close to recovered from climbing at twenty-nine-thousand feet just weeks earlier?
I normally would have approached the twelve-mile ruck with confidence, but now I felt uneasy because of the quick turnaround after Everest. I had been cleared by the doctor to start working out again just one week before Ranger School. I had considered delaying Ranger School until the winter, but I hadn’t been allowed to since they deemed my frostbite a cold-weather injury. My only option was to go to Ranger School right away, despite the further recovery my body needed.
RACHEL
The night I knew Harold was doing the twelve-mile ruck was long. Come morning, Harold called me. I knew immediately what his call meant. In Ranger School, no news is good news. I wasn’t supposed to hear from him until the end of the week, so his call meant he had failed the ruck. Even though it was a bad cell connection, I could tell from the sound of his voice that he was devastated. Normally, he’d be sent home immediately, but because of the death, they were holding Soldiers while an investigation took place.
I was hurting for him and I knew he was beating himself up, but I also knew he hadn’t been physically ready. I spent the whole day waiting and never got a call again. I finally went to sleep at 4:00 a.m. I wondered what the failure meant for us. I felt bad that he was stuck there waiting, surrounded by all things Ranger School, a constant reminder of his failure. Would we be moving again? Or would he go back to Ranger School for a second try? All I knew was I wanted to hug him.
Everything was hitting me so hard. I could feel the weight of all we’d been through recently. But failure is inevitable, and I knew it was something we could get through together. We’d come out even tougher, gaining wisdom along the way. As I thought about Harold, his personality, and his achievements, I thought how sometimes failure can be harder on those who are experiencing it for the first time. If you’re successful in most things, defeat can feel overwhelming because you’re not accustomed to losing. I didn’t want that to happen.
When Harold came home, he immediately spoke with his command and found out he would be going back to Ranger School on August 22, which was in about three weeks. His face was covered in pimples that looked like a bunch of tiny ant bites because he hadn’t showered and was constantly covered in dirt and sweat. He took that first day at home to rest, then immediately started training for the ruck again. He was more determined than ever.
HAROLD
The two hardest phone calls of my life were both with Rachel. The first was when I called her from Everest after I got sick. The second was when I called her from Ranger School to tell her I failed the ruck. I had never failed anything physical in my entire life, and it was humiliating.
I was embarrassed that after an achievement like climbing Mount Everest, I couldn’t pass the first week of Ranger School. Whether I was successful or not, God had a plan for it all. I realized that I not only needed to get back in physical shape (and cut out the waffles and brownie batter) but also needed the right mind-set if I was going to be ready to go back in three weeks. I still carried the failure, and it was depleting my already ravaged mind and body. The only way I have ever had any real success is by fully committing to and immersing myself in what I wanted to do.
Rachel and I ate, slept, and focused on Ranger School for all hours of the day for three weeks. Ruck at 5:00 a.m. Lean breakfast. Motivational Ranger video. Knot-tying class while taking a shower. Reciting the Ranger creed on full blast with the windows down in the car while driving to dinner. Then a workout after that. Rachel punching my stomach repeatedly as I did crunches while hanging from a pull-up bar with my shirt off. Just kidding about the Rocky Balboa moment. But if I learned one thing about Rachel and me with Everest, it was that if together we wholeheartedly set our minds on achieving something we believe in, we are unstoppable.
RACHEL
After a sleepless night full of nerves and anxiety, I woke up and headed to the kitchen to prepare one final breakfast. It was the first day of Ranger School, round two, and the third goodbye we’d share in the span of five months. As I type this right now, I want to pat myself on the back for how much of a boss I was for getting through all this. If there is one thing I want readers to take away from our story, it is that you are capable of more than you can imagine and that with God by your side, you will always come out stronger!
Harold threw his two huge green duffel bags in the back of our car, and we drove to the drop-off point. He looked better, felt better, and had a determined look on his face as he slung his 120 pounds of gear on his back. I knew he was ready when he walked away with a smile. That was the Harold I knew. Instead of leaving with a bad attitude, reluctant to get right back “in the suck,” as Soldiers call it, he was ready to crush it.
HAROLD
Well…I was mostly ready, but I naturally still had some nervous thoughts racing in my mind. Ranger School was a time when I had to lean on God because I didn’t want to fail again. I knew my faith was more up and down than Rachel’s, and I sometimes chased after God only when I needed Him.
Everest brought me closer to God during the difficult times on the mountain, but after it was all over, my interest waned. I’d jammed to worship music on the way to Everest, but on the way home, I jammed to hip-hop. I prayed my way up and down the mountain but forgot to pray back at home, except at the dinner table. I realized I had an underlying belief that I didn’t always need God because I believed He would get in the way of what I wanted to accomplish.
This time my heart felt different.
RACHEL
Two days after Harold left, I hit over a million views on my YouTube channel. Although I couldn’t celebrate with Harold, I kept thinking how grateful I was for his continued support and encouragement. By Wednesday night, there was no news from Harold, so I knew he had made it through the first few days again and would be starting that dreaded twelve-mile ruck in just a few short hours. I couldn’t sleep, so I covered him in prayers.
Lord, You have called him here; now use him how You please. May he be an encouraging ear, a battle buddy, and more as You use his strengths to lift him up and show him his purpose. I pray for friendship and conversation that take his mind off the pain. I pray for radical healing in his weak muscles and for health, a positive attitude, and a hopeful heart. May You turn those lonely hours into beautiful moments with You, Lord. Give these Soldiers the power, strength, and mental fortitude they need to get through this.
Around 10:00 a.m., I felt peace because I knew that no matter what happened, God would work through the situation. We’d been separated by the mountain and come out with a fiercer love and deeper appreciation for life, so I knew we could get through anything together. I’d be there if he needed me, or I’d celebrate him if he didn’t. By noon, still no news. By 3:00 p.m., still no call, which meant he had done it! I literally had a party, jumping on the bed with the dogs and dancing in the kitchen. I was so proud! I had that same excited feeling I had when I got the text message that Harold had arrived at Base Camp for the first time. I lived in the moment and felt the emotions I knew Harold was having when he’d finished that ruck: proud, fired up, and confident. I even ate some cake in celebration since I could eat cake but Harold couldn’t.
HAROLD
I absolutely crushed the ruck march. I made some good friends, and we stuck together the entire time. We laughed and shared stories, including my Princess Jasmine story. This helped take our minds off the misery and heavy weight on our backs. We actually had a few other Rangers link up with us because they were sucking pretty bad and needed some encouragement. One of them pulled me aside afterward and said, “Because of you, I was able to pass. Thank you.” It was pitch black out. I couldn’t see his face and never got his name, but his comment really meant a lot to me.
No one ever wants to fail, but in hindsight, I was grateful for my initial failure. It was a crushing blow to my prid
e. From it, however, I grew so much as a person, leader, and husband. Most important, it caused me to reflect on the type of person I was on the home front. I mentioned earlier that while growing up, Tommy and I always lived by the Andy Stanley quote “Start becoming the person the person you’re looking for is looking for.” So why did that mentality stop being my focus once I got married? I decided from then on to be the person the person I’m married to wants to be married to.
RACHEL
I had sent Harold a set of prestamped and addressed envelopes just in case he had time to write to me. One day, sitting in my mailbox was a little piece of gold, a letter from Harold. It was a week old by the time I received it.
Aug 28th
Dear hunny,
I think about you often…Also, since you didn’t get a call, you already know this, but I passed the ruck! Ha ha, I laughed out loud at your letter…
One of the letters I’d sent Harold was labeled “open before the ruck.” I’d kept it simple and to the point, with big letters that said, “PASS THE RUCK.” In the letter, he talked about some funny stuff from Ranger School. He said he had gone three straight days with no sleep and had never hallucinated so much in his life. He would jump over creeks that didn’t exist or try to sit down on his ruck that wasn’t there. And he fell over three times from falling asleep while standing up.
A Higher Calling Page 17