“Command and Control” I write my orders in the mirror each morning, not barked, not printed, just etched in the set of my jaw and the stillness behind my eyes. No one outranks me in this room, and no one rescues me either. I lead from the inside out. First rule: Own everything. The wins, the losses, the shortcuts I didn’t take, the silence I kept when noise was cheap. Second rule: Scan the field. Check the pulse, of the team, the task, the tension in my spine. There’s intel in emotion and threats in routine. I don’t wait for impact. I adjust fire. Decisions don’t need applause, they need clarity. And I’ve learned the difference between reaction and response, one is fear with a fuse, the other is discipline in motion. I delegate like I’m building leaders, not followers. I teach others to shoot straight, not just bullets, but truth. My discipline is quiet. Not a flex. Not a post. Just repetition under pressure. I’ve eaten the suck, worn it like doctrine, turned it into fuel when the tank ran dry and the team still needed light. And at the end of each op, whether it’s battle or just a day full of small wars, I sit with my own AAR: What did I miss? What did I carry that wasn’t mine? What did I lead that mattered? Because rank doesn’t make you a leader, and resilience isn’t noise. It’s grit in your boots and peace in your chest, when you’ve walked through fire and still know who you are.