By Capt. John Wayne Bennett, Liberty County Sheriff’s Office
On Nov. 6, 2026, my son, Pvt. John W. Bennett II, graduated from Marine Corps Recruit Depot San Diego, Echo Company, Platoon 2113, earning the title of United States Marine.
Getting to that moment was an experience in itself, not just for him, but for us as his family.
For three months, we had almost no communication with him outside of letters. I still remember that first phone call after he arrived at boot camp and stepped onto those famous yellow footprints. Normally, hearing your child’s voice on the phone would put your mind at ease. That call did the exact opposite.
The confusion, the yelling in the background, the rushing, and hearing him trying to get through a script he was required to read. There was no real conversation. No opportunity to ask how he was doing or tell him everything was going to be OK. Just a few moments of hearing his voice before the call ended.
And that’s when it really hit me. For the first time in his life, my son was somewhere I couldn’t reach him, couldn’t check on him and couldn’t step in if he needed something. In a way, it felt like my child no longer belonged to me. He had made a commitment to something bigger than himself, and as his father, I had to learn to accept that.
Then came the letters.
Every letter was something to look forward to. Sometimes they were short, sometimes there wasn’t much to say, but I read every word. And as the weeks passed, I started noticing changes in him through those letters. The way he wrote, the things he talked about, the way he looked at challenges and the responsibilities he was beginning to understand. You could see him growing up right there on those pages.
And then, after months of waiting, I finally got to see him again.
He stands a little taller now. His shoulders are back, his head is held high, and there’s a confidence about him that wasn’t there before. He’s still my boy, but I can see the young man he’s becoming. He worked hard for that title, and I couldn’t be prouder of him.
During Family Day, I watched families reunite with their new Marines. Parents hugging their kids, brothers and sisters running up to them, and families taking pictures and celebrating. It was an incredible thing to witness.
But as I looked around, I noticed some young Marines who didn’t have anyone there.
While so many were surrounded by family, there were others standing off to the side with nobody to celebrate with. No mom or dad to hug them. Nobody taking their picture or telling them how proud they were.
I don’t know their circumstances or why their families couldn’t be there. But I remember looking at those young men and women and thinking about how much they had just accomplished. They went through the same training, endured the same hardships and earned the exact same title as my son.
I wish every one of them could have had someone there to hug them and tell them how proud they were. That bothered me more than I expected, and it’s something I won’t soon forget.
Today, on Veterans Day, I’m sitting here at home with John, enjoying the little bit of time we have together before he leaves again in a couple of days for the next part of his training.
And I’ll admit, as proud as I am, there’s a part of me that’s anxious about watching him leave again. It’s a strange feeling, being so proud of the direction your child is going while wishing you could keep him home just a little longer.
I’ve spent most of my adult life in law enforcement, and throughout my career, I’ve had the privilege of working alongside a lot of veterans. Some have become close friends and mentors. I’ve learned from them, laughed with them and listened to their stories. Some of those stories were funny, some were incredible, and others were difficult to hear. Stories about places they’ve been, things they’ve experienced, friends they’ve lost and sacrifices they’ve made.
I’ve always respected their service, but this experience has given me a different perspective on what that service means to the families waiting at home.
I know that what we’ve experienced so far doesn’t begin to compare to what so many military families have endured. Parents who have spent months worrying about their children overseas. Spouses raising families while their loved ones are away. Children growing up missing birthdays and holidays with a parent. And families whose loved ones never made it home.
I think about those families differently today.
John, I hope you know just how proud I am of you. Not just for becoming a Marine, but for the young man you’ve become. I hope you always carry yourself with that same confidence, but never forget to be humble. Remember those who came before you and the responsibility that comes with wearing that uniform.
And to those young Marines I saw standing alone on Family Day, I hope you know that even if nobody was standing beside you that day, there were people watching who were proud of you. I was one of them.
This Veterans Day, I want to thank every man and woman who has served this country and the families who have stood beside them. I’ve always appreciated your service, but I’m beginning to understand a little more about the sacrifices that come with it.
God bless our veterans, their families and the next generation who have answered the call.
Semper Fi, son. I love you, and we are all so proud of you.
Congratulations, Platoon 2113 of Echo Company, or as you all call yourselves, “The Evil Echo Empire.”
