There’s a particular kind of friendship that can only be forged in conditions that no sane person would voluntarily sign up for. Sleep deprivation. Shared misery. Dining facility hot dogs of ambiguous origin. The War Hares are that kind of friendship.
WOCS 24-001 was not a vacation. It was a carefully engineered exercise in finding out exactly how much a person can take before they either quit or become a Warrant Officer. We found out.
Nobody quit. Well. Nash did get kicked out. Sorry Nash.
Most of us still have PTSD and need to talk to a mental health professional.
But somewhere in the middle of all that; between the ruck marches and the TAC officer speeches and the mystery meat at the WHFRTC dining facility; something happened that I didn’t expect. I made some of the closest friends of my life. Not “we survived something together so I guess we’re friends” friends. Genuinely, irreversibly, will-answer-the-phone-at-2am-no-questions-asked friends.
These guys knew me at my worst. Exhausted, underprepared, overconfident, and somehow still the lowest-ranking candidate in the room. They didn’t care. They showed up anyway. They still show up.
The fact that we still keep in touch, that the group chat literally has daily messages, that we still check in on each other across time zones and duty stations and whatever chaos civilian life is throwing at us this week, means more to me than I know how to say without it getting weird. So I’ll keep it appropriately brief and let the rest of this website do the talking.
This site exists because these people deserve to be documented. The memories deserve a place to live. The stories deserve to be told - at least the ones we’re allowed to tell.
To the War Hares: thank you. Genuinely. You are some of the best people I know, and I’m proud to have earned the title alongside you.
Our time is now. It always will be.
- Matty Lite, Hacker Hare, WOCS 24-001