Javascript is not enabled.

Javascript must be enabled to use this site. Please enable Javascript in your browser and try again.

Skip to content
Content starts here
CLOSE ×
Search
Leaving AARP.org Website

You are now leaving AARP.org and going to a website that is not operated by AARP. A different privacy policy and terms of service will apply.

A Warrior’s Journey Toward Peace and Purpose

This veteran turned tragedy into inspiration, forging a new life that took him to the Super Bowl and Hollywood


spinner image Gregory Gadson stands outside the department of justice
Gregory Gadson stands outside the Department of Justice in Washington, D.C.
Courtesy Össur Prosthetics

I truly am freer now than when I had my legs. I would not change a thing. Freedom — the obvious definition — is what we fought for in Iraq and Afghanistan and Bosnia and Vietnam and in two world wars and in every other conflict in which the United States has engaged.

But to me freedom is also disengagement from anguish, from worry about the future or reliving the past. Freedom is presence.

On May 7, 2007, I was grievously wounded in an IED attack in Iraq while my unit was returning from a memorial service for two fallen soldiers. When you have lost both legs and have only one functional arm, you get present real fast.

I did not know what was coming next — how I would survive, how I would take care of my family, whether I could maintain a career. The only thing I could do was be in the present moment.

spinner image closeup of a rusty dog tag with the text thank you veterans engraved in it, next to a flag of the United States

You can subscribe here to AARP Veteran Report, a free e-newsletter published twice a month. If you have feedback or a story idea then please contact us here.

Eight months later, I was on the sidelines of the Super Bowl with my pre-teen son. The New York Giants had been struggling but Mike Sullivan, my former West Point teammate, had brought me in to share my story with the players. He thought it might motivate them — help them come together as a team. They won the Super Bowl that year.

To my lasting surprise, I later starred in a major Hollywood movie, “Battleship.” I received a call from director Peter Berg after he’d seen a photograph of me in National Geographic.

There are two things I keep close to remind me to stay present. One is a patch designed by Clint Walkingstick, an artist from Oklahoma working with the Has Heart organization.

Clint’s patch reads, “Be your best, be present and be at peace.” You cannot be your best if you are not present, and you cannot be at peace if you are thinking about how you were wronged in the past or how you are going to get ahead tomorrow.

The other thing is a dog tag given to me by a chaplain at Walter Reed, engraved with one of my favorite scriptures passages, Joshua 1:9. “Be strong and courageous; do not be afraid, do not be discouraged for the Lord Your God will be with you wherever you go.”

There have been sorrows. I have lost my parents, friends, fellow soldiers. My mom died too young — in her early 60s. She liked to say I traveled with angels.

For many years I wore a cross she gave me on a chain around my neck. But the chain broke under the weight of the body armor I had to wear in Iraq and I lost it. I didn’t tell her. But not long after that she sent me a care package.

In it was a coin — on one side was an angel and on the other my name. There was also a metal clip — I guess it was a hair clip — with an angel on it. I had it soldered into my Humvee.

The coin was in my wallet, hanging on a lanyard from my neck, and the clip was attached to the Humvee the night we got hit by the IED. My mom made sure I made it through.

There were some dark days during my recovery, to be sure. I never planned to take my own life. I never had the pills in my hand. But I sure did wonder more than once if it would not have been easier just to call it off. I know the Lord saved me from that darkness. I had an incredible wife — Kim — and my kids Gabby and Jaelen to help pull me through. I hope anyone reading this understands that ending your life is the only way to be sure nothing gets better.

It is critical for me to experience life one day, one moment at a time. You never know what might happen next.

For instance, I barely even read the “Battleship” script Peter Berg, the director, had sent to me. See, the movie was not in some plan. Neither was attending West Point, becoming a colonel, being blown to pieces or getting a visit at Walter Reed from an old football teammate.

There is no script for your life. That is why you have to take every opportunity. Because everything, everything can change in an instant. I do believe life is about struggle. It is okay to be wrestling with things. It means you are living.

spinner image A group of soldiers in military uniforms
Lt. Col. Gregory Gadson (right) at Fort Riley, Kansas, before deploying to Iraq, where he was wounded in May 2007.
Courtesy Gregory Gadson

Through those days when I struggled to lift one prosthetic leg in front of the other, I had to dig, physically and emotionally. But I also felt intensely alive. Maybe it was because I had come so close to death.

I am where I am in this moment because of the experiences and people who have come into my life since May 7, 2007. I do not miss my legs.

Did I want to go through getting blown up, having all those surgeries and physical and emotional rehabilitation? No. Did I want to put my family through all of that? Of course not.

My glass is half full because in my mind I did not lose my legs. I gave them. I gave my legs in service to my country. That is the sacrifice I and my family made and the reason we are free. We did not lose anything. We gave something. This has been our journey.

Finding Waypoints: A Warrior’s Journey Towards Peace and Purpose by Terese Schlachter and Gregory D. Gadson is published by Schaffner Press.

You can subscribe here to AARP Veteran Report, a free e-newsletter published twice a month. If you have feedback or a story idea then please contact us here.

Unlock Access to AARP Members Edition

Join AARP to Continue

Already a Member?