Recognizing that I volunteered as a Ranger, fully knowing the hazards of my chosen profession, I will always endeavor to uphold the prestige, honor, and high esprit de corps of my Ranger Regiment.
I stood in formation and recited this and five more stanzas of the Ranger Creed every morning from the day I showed up to R.I.P. in 1998 to the days we went to war in 2002 and our op-tempo no longer allowed morning formations.
It guides our culture. It shapes who we are and directs how we show up in the world. And though the world has radically transformed since CSM Neal R. Gentry penned these stanzas** in 1974, the values articulated have stood the test of time.
That’s how values–as all wisdom–work; they are timely and timeless.
Creeds like these are beaten into us at a young age, but don’t become part of us until tested in real life.
They are rote until they are real.
Memorization until they are M.O.
Forged one act of personal courage at a time.
It’s the moment you bleed through your boots, dehydrated in the desert because “I accept the fact that as a Ranger my country expects me to move further, faster, and fight harder than any other Soldier.”
It’s the moment you wrestle the keys from your drunk buddy’s grip because “Never shall I fail my comrades,” or refuse to give up on your marriage because “Surrender is not a Ranger word.”
It’s the moment you walk out of a leadership meeting committed to executing a plan you argued against because “My courtesy to superior officers, neatness of dress and care of equipment shall set the example for others to follow.” Or the last moment you don’t, and learn that our failure is directly tied to my reluctance to prioritize our mission over my way.
It’s every week you show up to therapy, take your medicine, and do PT–even though you don’t want to–because “Readily will I display the intestinal fortitude required to fight on to the Ranger objective and complete the mission.”
This is our creed.
This is my creed.
I could no more decouple these words from my character than I could extract the marrow from my bones, because over the long game, they stopped being words I recited and became the way I live.
Today, thousands of cadets, midshipmen, Rangers, SEALs, and Rescue Swimmer candidates, Basic Trainees, and Marine Corps Boots are stepping onto their “Yellow Footprints” being washed with words to know that will eventually become the wisdom that shapes who they are.
I salute you.
I do not envy what you are about to go through.
But I promise it will be worth it if you stick to the long obedience in the direction of our ethos of excellence.
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** Or, “partially penned” per his widow, Joyce, who realyed this to me at a chance meeting at the Ft. Benning Commissary. According to Joyce, CSM Gentry wasn’t the strongest grammarian, but was thankful for his wife’s help. She was also pleased to know that we were still required to memorize the creed to the letter, comma, and period all those years later. It was very sweet.
