The Department of War...Now What?

Rome didn’t conquer the known world on force alone — it did so through loyalty. Its legions were not mercenaries; they were citizens, bound by duty and rewarded with belonging. When their campaigns ended, Rome repaid that loyalty with land, citizenship, and lasting honor. Service wasn’t just a burden — it was a pathway to status and identity. The legions themselves were a mosaic of cultures — Syrians, Gauls, Africans, Spaniards, and Germans — yet through shared hardship and the promise of Roman reward, they became one people. The genius of Rome was not just its discipline in battle, but its understanding that allegiance must be earned, not assumed.

America should take note. A nation endures not because of the size of its armies, but because its warriors believe their sacrifice means something — that service is tied to purpose, identity, and belonging. Rome’s strength wasn’t only in its legions; it was in the bond between the soldier and the state — a bond that turned conquered men into Romans and ensured that loyalty flowed upward as well as down.

If we want to make service in the National Guard and Reserves truly competitive — truly attractive — we need to think beyond symbolic gestures. It’s time for a radical reimagining of how America rewards those who serve.

Pay: Start with compensation. Pay should rise by 50 percent or more across the force — not as charity, but as a statement of value. Guardsmen and reservists should earn enough to make meaningful life choices: to be full-time parents, full-time students, or full-time community servants when not in uniform. Service should empower family stability and personal growth, not strain them.

Longevity: Next, we must reward years of commitment over rank alone. A 30-year-old private or a 40-year-old corporal is not a failure of promotion — it’s a symbol of professional endurance. As long as they meet the physical and tactical standards of their field, they should be honored for staying in the fight. Longevity pay keeps institutional knowledge inside the ranks instead of forcing it into early retirement.

Perks: Service should come with benefits that exceed civilian life — not trail behind it. No-down-payment VA mortgages. Lower federal income tax rates — or none at all. Free college. Lifetime health coverage. Stronger job protections for those activated in times of crisis. These aren’t luxuries; they’re investments in national readiness and cohesion.

Because let’s be honest — a free meal at Applebee’s or a 10% discount at the hardware store is not gratitude. It’s guilt disguised as appreciation. We hand veterans coupons and call it honor, while the real reward for service — security, dignity, and opportunity — too often never comes. If America expects men and women to give years of their lives for the defense of the Republic, then the Republic must give them something more lasting than a thank-you card.

Every enlistee should begin with one full year of active-duty service. That year would serve as the foundation of our military identity — a common crucible that builds discipline, cohesion, and patriotism before a soldier ever joins a unit. It’s where recruits learn not only how to fight, but why they fight. Every soldier, sailor, airman, and Marine would emerge with the same basic foundation, the same shared standard, and a genuine sense of belonging to something larger than themselves.

After that initial year, every service member should have a choice:

Option One: Apply for full-time active-duty service, earning higher pay, expanded benefits, and a defined path toward leadership, specialization, and long-term military careers.

Option Two: Transfer to their “home” National Guard unit, where they serve part-time but retain all the same benefits they earned during active duty. If life takes them to a new state or job, they simply plug into the local Guard unit — carrying their experience and discipline with them into a new community.

This model creates flexibility for young Americans just starting their lives while building long-term cohesion in the Guard and Reserve. It ensures that every American who wears the uniform begins with a shared experience — a baseline of training and loyalty that unites those who serve under one flag.

But it’s more than a manpower strategy; it’s a national investment. A year of shared service would do more for American unity than any government program or political speech ever could. It would knit this country back together through duty, not division. Every American who completes that first year would carry the discipline, confidence, and patriotism of that experience into civilian life — strengthening not just our military, but our nation itself.

The National Guard is — and always has been — the connective tissue between the military and the American people. Guard units are community-based by design. A California brigade might include lifelong Californians, out-of-state transfers, first-generation immigrants, and Americans from every walk of life. Together, they train, deploy, and serve side by side — bound not by background, but by purpose.

Now imagine what that means over time. Ten, fifteen, twenty years of drilling, deploying, and standing shoulder to shoulder through crisis and calm. Those relationships don’t disappear when the uniform comes off — they strengthen city councils, businesses, schools, and charities. The same trust that carries a unit through combat becomes the trust that holds a community together.

Military service, when structured this way, becomes more than national defense — it becomes community defense. It dissolves the artificial barriers of race, religion, and class because teamwork is mission-essential. When lives depend on one another, identity politics doesn’t stand a chance.

There’s another, deeply human dividend: hope. Veterans take their own lives at tragic rates, often because they lose the very sense of purpose and brotherhood that service once gave them. A Guard-centered model — one rooted in sustained local community — keeps those bonds alive. It offers continuity, belonging, and mission long after active duty ends. That kind of connection can save lives.

A military built on community isn’t just stronger in the field — it’s stronger at home too.

Today, fewer than 0.7% of Americans serve in uniform — the lowest share in our nation’s history. That number keeps shrinking even as our population grows. The gap between those who serve and those who are defended by their service has never been wider. If we want to preserve the idea of the citizen-soldier, we must rebuild it where it belongs — in our communities.

Warfare has changed. Modern conflict is smaller in scale but exponentially more lethal and technologically complex. The enemy is no longer defined by the size of its army, but by the sophistication of its tools and the speed of its decisions. We don’t need millions of troops mowing grass on idle bases, waiting for a war that may never come. We need a lean, lethal, and modern active-duty force — backed by a larger, better-trained, and better-rewarded National Guard that can surge when the nation calls.

This is not a retreat from readiness — it’s a realignment toward reality. The threats we face demand precision, not mass; innovation, not inertia. A revitalized Guard structure, woven into the fabric of every state and town, is how we preserve the citizen-soldier ideal in a 21st-century world.

Rome rewarded its veterans with the most tangible symbol of belonging — land. With that land came ownership, dignity, and a stake in the Republic they had fought to defend. It was not charity; it was reciprocity. Service created citizens, and citizenship sustained service.

America can offer the same principle in modern form. We can give our veterans opportunity — the chance to build lives of meaning anchored in what they’ve earned. Home ownership. A college degree. Lower tax rates. Free lifetime health coverage. And for those who come to this country and serve it with honor, full citizenship. Above all, we can give them what Rome gave its legions: respect that lasts longer than the parade.

Because if we expect our sons and daughters to raise their right hands in the decades to come, we must make that oath not just a duty — but a destiny. Service must once again be the highest calling of citizenship, and citizenship the greatest reward of service. That was Rome’s genius. It should be America’s, too.

This series began with a simple question: What kind of military does America need for the century ahead? The answer is now clear. We don’t need a larger military — we need a smarter one. One that measures strength not by how many people it employs, but by how many citizens it inspires. One that binds Americans together through shared service, shared purpose, and shared pride.

That’s the America First Defense vision — the blueprint President Trump and Secretary Hegseth are championing: a leaner, more lethal force, anchored in community, strengthened by loyalty, and built on the timeless truth that the defense of a nation begins with the character of its people.

Because in the end, it isn’t just about readiness. It’s about renewal — national, moral, and civic. And if we get this right, America’s next great generation won’t just serve their country. They’ll rebuild it.