Coming Full Circle | A Warrior’s Letter
Sporting a bolo tie, cowboy boots, a black cowboy hat, and Monika by my side, I awkwardly walked down a main street in Bozeman, Montana, feeling like Woody from Toy Story.
Growing up in Los Angeles and now living in Central Pennsylvania, this was far from my normal attire. With every passing car, I was convinced someone was thinking, “Look at that guy.”
As I approached the venue for Warriors & Quiet Waters’ (WQW) 1st Annual Salute to Service Gala, the doubt crept in even more. I was certain I had gotten this wrong and would soon be rushing back to the hotel to change into something more familiar, something more comfortable.
After checking in, we made our way upstairs for the social hour, and it was there that everything shifted.
My attire wasn’t wrong. It was perfect (maybe not perfect, but it worked).
More importantly, I realized I was exactly where I was meant to be, surrounded by a community that welcomed me not for what I wore, but for who I am. Veterans, family members, and supporters, each with their own story, yet united by something deeper.
That community was a small reflection of what brought me to where I am today: thriving as a husband, a father, a son, and a brother. Thriving as a member of society who continues to serve, even without the uniform.
The veteran support community is vast, with thousands of organizations dedicated to helping veterans and their families. That evening introduced me to another layer of connection through one such organization, the Wounded Warrior Project.
Two representatives were present that night, and within minutes, we discovered shared experiences, duty stations, overlapping timelines, and familiar names. The world, once again, felt incredibly small.
But my connection with the Wounded Warrior Project goes back much further than that evening.
It takes me back nearly 19 years, to October 10, 2007, a day that would change my life and my family’s life in an instant.
That evening in Baghdad, Iraq, I was wounded during a sustained rocket attack. After taking shrapnel to the head, I was medically evacuated and eventually transported to Brooke Army Medical Center in Texas, where I spent six weeks recovering before returning to combat.
In the chaos of treatment, my blood-soaked uniform was cut off, leaving me exposed and vulnerable, covered only by a thin hospital sheet.
It was in the hospital that something simple, but unforgettable, happened.
A medical representative handed me a small backpack. Inside was a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, provided by the Wounded Warrior Project.
It is difficult to fully explain what that moment meant, but it was more than just clothing. It was a sense of security that is truly unexplainable.
Fast forward to 2023.
After 32 years of service, it was time to transition from the Army. For the first time in my life, I was stepping away from the only identity I had ever truly known.
The decisions ahead felt overwhelming, including healthcare, career, purpose, and even something as simple as what to wear each day.
And once again, the Wounded Warrior Project showed up when I needed it most.
After a few phone calls, I was connected with a VA Claims Officer who was not only knowledgeable and professional, but deeply compassionate. She walked me through every step of the process, ensuring I understood what needed to be done and helping me navigate a system that can feel daunting and impersonal.
For the second time in my life, Wounded Warrior Project gave me something I did not even realize I needed, peace of mind.
The same sense of security I felt in that hospital room years earlier returned, this time not through clothing, but through guidance, advocacy, and care.
Because of that support, I was able to focus not on the stress of the process, but on the opportunity of what comes next.
But the story does not end there.
In 2021, Monika and I discovered Warriors and Quiet Waters. From the moment we connected with the organization, we knew something special was happening. The mission, the community, and the authenticity were unlike anything we had experienced before.
We were all in.
In 2025, I was accepted into WQW’s first Built for More cohort focused on photography. When I arrived at the ranch that October, I learned that the program was made possible through the generosity of the Wounded Warrior Project.
In that moment, everything came full circle.
From a hospital bed in Texas to a ranch in Montana, my journey of healing, growth, and rediscovery continued.
Through these experiences, I have not only grown physically and mentally, but I have become a better husband, father, and human being. I am still discovering who I am and what I am capable of, and I am deeply grateful for the organizations that have walked alongside me in that process.
One of the things I am most proud of today is finding my voice, not just for myself, but to help others.
As meaningful as these programs have been for me, helping another veteran take that first step toward support is equally, if not more, rewarding.
So, I will close with two thoughts:
First, if you are a veteran searching for resources, I promise you they are out there. You just have to ask. For every organization that may not meet your needs, there are countless others ready to help. Advocacy starts with that first step.
Second, to those who have dedicated themselves to supporting the veteran community, thank you.
Thank you for being the difference.
Your impact is felt in ways that words can never fully capture.
Written by:
Brian Flom
U.S. Army, Retired
About Wounded Warrior Project
Wounded Warrior Project is our nation's leading veteran services organization, focused on the total well-being of post-9/11 wounded, ill, or injured veterans. Our programs, advocacy, and awareness efforts help warriors thrive, provide essential lifelines to families and caregivers, and prevent veteran suicides. Learn more about Wounded Warrior Project.