Photo By Senior Airman Katelynn Jackson | U.S. Air Force Senior Master Sgt. Brian Williams, 56th Security Forces Squadron...... read more read more
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LUKE AIR FORCE BASE, Ariz.— It was April 25, 2012, in Forward Operating Base Pasab, Afghanistan, and the world was an endless sea of sand.
There, U.S. Air Force Staff Sgt. Brian Williams and his military working dog Carly sat surrounded by the bulky, wire mesh walls of HESCO barriers that had become as much a part of the terrain as the jagged rocks and scattered rubble around them.
“I was in a remote location in the middle of nowhere,” said Williams, now a senior master sergeant. “Just sitting there waiting for the arrival of the large Army unit we were tasked with.”
He and his MWD had been deployed to FOB Pasab for two months, and were currently tasked with waiting for their Army counterparts to arrive before beginning their sweep of an Afghan village nearby.
Having been waiting since dawn, and it was now past noon, time seemed stretched thin. Hours slipped by as if caught in a tide of restless anticipation.
Finally, at just past 3:00 p.m., the distant rumble of trucks approaching stirred the air, and they were cleared to move.
“When things started moving, Carly would have this burst of excitement,” said Williams. “We both did.”
As they made their way forward, a snarky remark from an Army specialist that was eyeing Carly’s restless behavior caught William off guard.
“Your dog’s going to blow us all up, huh?” said the specialist.
Williams said he felt his anger flare.
“It was the type of comment I would usually let go,” said Williams. “But another MWD handler from our base had gotten injured that day, and I couldn’t shake a feeling of uneasiness.”
They pressed on, reaching the village, where the Army minesweepers were already at work, the mechanical hum of their equipment cutting through the heavy silence. Williams and Carly moved ahead of the others, carefully step-by-step, their pace deliberate.
They arrived at a compound, and orders were given: Carly was to search it.
Williams unclipped Carly from his leash, paws scraping softly against the dusty floor as he began to search the rooms alone. He moved with a quiet precision, a dance between dog and honed fighter. But no alert came, signaling the area was clear of explosives.
As they reached a set of ancient and withered stairs, Williams noted the design was one you would expect to find in a different era, a foreign time.
Williams sent Carly to search the second floor so the unit could proceed upstairs. He moved to the base of the steps and sniffed, again no alert was signaled.
He climbed the stairs and entered another room at the top, but he did not return.
Usually, if Carly didn’t sense an explosive or a hostile, he would have returned or sent a warning of danger, but this time there was nothing.
Williams crept forward, listening for sounds of struggle. But there was only silence. The air was still.
“I am on the third step,” Williams said, his eyes far away. “And then time just freezes for me.”
There was no warning, no time to react. An improvised explosive device hidden under the steps, ripped through the earth beneath his feet. The pain was immediate, a searing heat followed by numbing stillness.
“I felt like I was hovering,” Williams said. “Like I was Iron Man, suspended in the air, weightless. I was up there forever.”
Eventually, gravity returned, and he crashed back down into consciousness.
“I could see that I had a compound fracture protruding from the skin on my left wrist,” said Williams. "My teeth were gone or dangling in my mouth.”
His mind scrambled, agony muffling everything except for a cold, striking realization. His left foot was nowhere to be found.
“I cried,” said Williams, his voice breaking. “I called for my mom.”
The world around him was morphed with pain, dust and frenzied voices. Soldiers scrambled to him, lifting him by his collar, securing tourniquets on his limbs and strapping him to a gurney.
The helicopter ride to the medics was a haze, a blur of worried faces and fading consciousness.
“I thought about my mom, my dad, my girlfriend,” said Williams. “Anything to keep me awake.”
Once they landed at the hospital, surrounded by the sterile scent of antiseptic and the quiet scurrying of nurses, he was finally allowed to sleep.
When he woke up days later under a fog of painkillers, Williams had not fully met the realization that things would be forever different now.
“When I got injured, I knew everything below my ankle was gone,” said Williams. “But while I was asleep, they had amputated higher.”
Out of fear of infection, Williams’ left leg was amputated above the knee.
In addition to losing his leg, he had suffered blown eardrums, traumatic brain injury, missing teeth, a compression fracture of the spine and left wrist compound fracture.
“According to the doctor, the only thing holding my hand together was my watch,” said Williams. “I had only worn a watch on deployments to see what time it was back home with my family.”
Throughout it all, Williams kept high spirits and felt relatively the same as he did before the injury. However, a week after his return to the U.S., his girlfriend was changing the bandage around his leg when something inside him shifted and he broke down.
“I had promised my girlfriend that nothing would change when I came back,” said Williams, his voice softening. “And I had lied in dramatic fashion.”
The war had ended for him in some ways, but the battle for his military career was far from over.
“I’ve literally had to fight from the beginning to be in the Air Force,” said Williams.
It started when Williams joined Junior Reserve Officers' Training Corps in high school.
“I did JROTC, but not because I planned on joining the military,” said Williams. “I just took it because I thought it was a class I could pass.”
The commander of his school’s JROTC unit, a retired Army colonel, did not want Williams included in the program. A feeling Williams said was mutual.
“I was definitely an interesting character in high school,” said Williams, a sparkle dancing in his eyes. “I was constantly in the principal’s office and testing authority.”
For two years his JROTC commandant attempted to get him kicked out.
“Because I continued to fulfill the bare minimum of my responsibilities,” said Williams. “There was nothing he could do about it.”
His senior year, after successfully completing four years in JROTC, the retired colonel refused to grant him the certificate verifying completion that members can take to enlist in the military for an automatic promotion.
His father, who retired in the Army, drove to the school to advocate for him.
“He told my father I did not deserve the joy of service to my country,” said Williams, shifting in his seat. “He wasn’t the first or last person to count me out.”
After graduating high school, Williams worked a number of minimum wage jobs before deciding he wanted something more for his life.
“I was working at Walmart and I literally quit in the middle of the day,” said Williams. “I went on a restroom break and I never came back.”
While he drove to the recruiter’s office, he said he told himself that he would try the Air Force first, and if they didn’t have a plan to get him ready to enlist that day, he would keep trying every branch until one did.
“In 48 hours after approaching my recruiter, I flew to the Military Entrance Processing Station and I picked security forces as my job,” said Williams. “Then they asked me if I wanted to fly out the next day or December.”
That next day, Williams flew back home, packed his bags in three hours, and only told his mother he joined the Air Force on the first phone call at Basic Military Training.
His first duty station after graduating BMT and the Air Force Security Forces Academy was Luke Air Force Base, Arizona, where he served the first eight years of his career.
“Luke AFB taught me a lot as my first assignment,” said Williams. “It shaped who I am and my foundations as an Airman.”
Some of the lessons Williams learned, were done the hard way.
“My first re-enlistment was met with some slight hesitation,” said Williams. “I received an Article 15 during my first four years.”
While serving his second deployment for the 376th Expeditionary Security Forces Squadron in Manas Air Base in Kyrgyzstan as a fire team member, Williams listened to a conference call where a debate was had if Williams would be allowed to remain in the Air Force.
With his leadership advocating for him, he was approved for re-enlistment.
Williams continued to serve and after returning home from his fourth deployment, a supervisor pulled him aside and suggested that Williams volunteer to be a MWD handler and serve in the K-9 units.
“They were mandating people to work with K-9’s at that time,” said Williams. “He suggested I do it on my own accord instead of being forced to.”
Williams’ first deployment as a working dog handler was in 2010 with the 455th SFS at Bagram AB, Afghanistan.
“My dog was a drug dog,” said Williams. “I was unable to complete my deployment because my dog got a tumor the size of a softball and we both had to leave early.”
Before he was tasked with his sixth and final deployment, he was assigned Carly in 2011.
“Every relationship with a dog is different,” said Williams. “Prior to the injury in 2012, Carly didn’t want anything to do with me. That changed after.”
Williams was allowed to adopt Carly, who survived the IED with no injuries in 2013.
While having Carly with him contributed to his healing process, being an above the knee amputee meant a more complicated prosthetic process than those with below the knee cuts.
“I make it look doable, but I am a relatively high amputee,” said Williams. “To this day it is a continuous process of working and updating what kind of prosthetic offers me a higher quality of life.”
Throughout Williams recovery process, despite the mental and agonizing physical challenges of attempting to learn to walk on a prosthetic, he always avoided dwelling in the negatives of his new reality.
“Whenever I was feeling down about my situation,” said Williams. “I would look around in physical therapy at those who lost two or four limbs, and suddenly feel less sorry for myself.”
While Williams did not yet understand the graveness of the extent of his injuries and the difficulties returning to active-duty service would present, he did know he wanted to continue serving.
“A lot of things in the 10 years of service I had given at that point should have already pushed me to get out.” said Williams. “And it hadn’t.”
Williams said one of the most frustrating parts of his injury is that he would never be able to put a face or name to the person that placed the IED that took his leg.
“I wasn’t going to let that nameless person take my military service too,” said Williams. “Not when I had already fought so hard for it since the beginning.”
Williams was offered severance pay to start the beginning of a medical retirement from the Air Force, but he didn’t want to do that.
“The question I always get is ‘why did I stay?’,” said Williams. “The real question is why not?”
While speaking with his care coordinator, a retired Air Force chief master sergeant, Williams was advised that he had almost made the ultimate sacrifice, and that he shouldn’t feel the need to give even more to the service.
Williams said that so many people in his life were trying to segue him into the Air Force Medical Evaluation Board process to separate him from active duty and into medical retirement.
“Everyone kept telling me I didn’t have to serve anymore and that I had given enough,” said Williams. “I remember thinking, ‘I know, but I want to so can we talk about that?’”
Williams said that he might have felt differently about wanting to fight to stay in if he had behaved recklessly or done something wrong to cause the incident, but he hadn’t so it wasn’t right to push him out.
“I was just doing my job,” said Williams. “I was just doing what I am supposed to do.”
With the help of a supportive member of Williams’ leadership, a blueprint was designed for how Williams would continue a career in the Air Force.
Even though he would be physically unfit to serve as a MWD handler again, there was precedent for those in security forces injured in service to become a technical school instructor at Lackland AFB in San Antonio, Texas.
“I didn’t necessarily want to go back to Lackland,” said Williams. “But I kept hearing about the word ‘impact.’”
Despite not wanting to return to Texas, Williams knew he could have a huge impact helping shape and support the next generation of security forces Airmen.
Before Williams could get there though, he had to face the MEB, where he says he felt continuously written off by medical personnel.
“I was constantly being met with ‘no’s’ and had to grind out the whole process,” said Williams. “I continuously advocated for myself all the way up to the Secretary of the Air Force.”
Despite his strongest efforts, Williams’ original board denied his return to active duty, which Williams appealed, accompanied by his commander and supervisor who traveled out of pocket to advocate for him in person.
Following the appeal hearing, Williams was yet again recommended to retire, but would have to go through the evaluation process again before he could get a final answer. This time, he wrote a letter to the SECAF explaining his case and asking if he could approve his return to active-duty.
With the SECAF approval, nearly two years after his injury, Williams was finally granted retainability.
During the time before he was approved, Williams had been working in the tax office and excelling in all of the total Airmen concepts. He was awarded the USO George Van Cleave Military Leadership Award, a recognition given to one individual in each branch of service a year, who through their selfless commitment to our country, reflects the enduring legacy of the U.S. military and mission of the USO.
“Every ‘no’ I got during that process didn’t deter me,” said Williams. “All I could think about was setting a precedent to give an opportunity for every Airman injured after me.”
“I make it look easy,” said Williams a smirk pulling on his lips. “But it’s not.”
The next year in 2015, Williams was reading the Air Force Times when he scrolled upon a piece about the Warrior Games. Created in 2010, the Department of Defense Warrior Games introduced wounded, ill and injured service members and veterans to Paralympic-style sports.
In June, Williams competed in his first Warrior Games. While he was originally only interested in wheelchair basketball, he was pushed to try a multitude of sports that he would grow a passion for.
He now competes in volleyball, archery and track and field in addition to basketball. After seven years of competing in the Warrior Games, Williams has earned 30 medals across multiple events, over half of which are gold.
Aside from gaining new passions, Williams said that the people he has met through the program have been the most rewarding part.
“I’ve met some real good people through that program,” said Williams. “Everybody there has similar experiences to me, whether their wounds are physical or invisible.”
In November of 2015, Williams moved to Lackland AFB to begin training for his role as a security forces technical school instructor, and began working at the 343rd Training Squadron in March of 2016.
Throughout his time as an instructor, Williams began to realize the Airmen were looking at him like he was a ghost.
“I would ask them why they are looking at me like that,” says Williams. “They would tell me that I was a part of their curriculum at basic training.”
In 2014, Williams won the American Airmen Video Contest, a total force effort to showcase Air Force stories in short selfie videos.
His video would go on to be shown in ‘Airmen’s Week’ of basic military training, a 31-hour values-based course on the last week of basic training.
As an instructor, Williams made a point to actively engage with Airmen, using things his students were interested in, such as sports or video games, as metaphors for his lessons.
“I had to find out what each student connected to,” said Williams. “And I would use that to drive the messages I was trying to instill within them.”
This leadership style led to high attrition rates ultimately leading to his contribution in graduating over 520 students in the span of two years.
Staff Sgt. Austin Johnson, 56th SFS armory non-commissioned officer in charge, one of William’s former tech school students, said that Williams stood out from the other instructors in more ways than one.
“Senior Williams was by far sterner than the other instructors,” said Johnson. “At the same time, it was clear he was so direct because of how much he truly cared about helping us exceed in our careers.”
Another prior technical school student underneath Williams, Staff Sgt. Cameron Newhouse, shared a similar sentiment on Williams’ impact as an instructor.
“He was different, not just by the way he carried himself, but simply by how much he cared,” said Newhouse. “We all took everything he said to heart, because we knew it came from a place of wanting us to learn and grow.”
Not only did Williams leave a lasting mark on his students, but they in turn left one on him.
“The students were my motivation,” said Williams. “I know I had an impact on them, but they re-established my faith in resiliency.”
In 2018, his last year at Lackland, Williams was transferred to serve as the superintendent at the 341st TRS, where MWDs are developed.
Prior to his arrival, the 341st TRS was training hundreds of dogs below the requirement. A few months after his arrival, they were exceeding it. This would be the first time the quota was met in over four years, leading to him being named the 341st TRS’s Senior Non-Commissioned Officer of the Year.
When his tour at Lackland AFB expired, Williams found out his next assignment would be at the Pentagon as a law-and-order branch manager, where he would be creating policies for his career field.
While in his assignment at the Pentagon, he began to see a therapist to address his mental health issues.
“I was finally taking care of something I should have taken care of long ago,” said Williams. “When I got to the Pentagon, I didn’t hesitate to get help, and it was lovely.”
In addition to making progress to his mental health, Williams contributed to progressing the security forces career field, leading to him winning multiple Headquarters Air Force awards. These included the HAF National Public Service Award in 2021, Blacks in Government Meritorious Service Award in 2022 and HAF Jewish Institute for National Security of America (JINSA) Grateful Nation Award.
After serving four years as the law-and-order branch manager, Williams would return to Luke AFB as the operations superintendent for the 56th SFS.
“I always wanted to come back to Luke AFB,” said Williams. “But when my dad got diagnosed with cancer in 2019, I knew it was time to come back to take care of my parents.”
Williams arrived to Luke AFB in 2023 using the Air Force’s Humanitarian Reassignment and Deferment Program, a one-time reassignment or deferment designed to enable Airmen to resolve a family issue.
Even while helping with his parent’s wellness issues, Williams was able to thrive in his duty station, earning SNCO of the Year across the entire 56th Fighter Wing in 2023.
At this point of his career, Williams had continuously defied adversity and accomplished more than many thought was possible including serving over 20 years, qualifying him for retirement.
“After I made master sergeant I thought I would have retired,” said Williams. “But they say when you are done with service you will know, and that has not hit me yet.”
Williams said when he no longer feels like he has an impact, he will be done, but he knows he still does.
“I have a responsibility to these Airmen that work our gates, the same gates that I used to work,” said Williams. “I want to be a beacon for them and take care of them to the best of my ability.”
While contributing vastly to countless security forces Airmen during his career, one of the ways he could increase his ability to contribute to their lives is to make chief master sergeant.
“Will there be a Chief Williams? I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be upset if that’s what the Air Force wants of me,” said Williams. “I would definitely stick around longer if that happens.”
As of Nov. 4, 2024, it seems like Williams will be sticking around a bit longer.
Surrounded by his fellow Airmen and co-workers, some of which have been there since the beginning of his career, 56th FW leadership entered Williams’ office with a plaque to notify him that he was a chief master sergeant select.
Williams had reached the ninth, and highest, enlisted rank in the U.S. Air and Space Force, joining the top 1% of the enlisted force who make the final rank.
“To say that when I joined 23 years ago that making Chief was always in the cards for me would be a lie,” said Williams, smiling pensively. “But I hope that by joining the 1% I can provide continuous impacts for those around and under me, which is the reason I continue to serve.”
From before his service as a JROTC cadet, and during as an Airman and NCO, Williams was continuously met with roadblocks and those that told him he was incapable of accomplishing all he has today.
In the face of the great power competition, Airmen and Guardians across the Air and Space Forces must strive to demonstrate the same levels of perseverance to remain ready to fight and face the challenges of now, tomorrow and every day.
| Date Taken: | 11.22.2024 |
| Date Posted: | 11.22.2024 15:21 |
| Story ID: | 485978 |
| Location: | LUKE AIR FORCE BASE, ARIZONA, US |
| Web Views: | 29 |
| Downloads: | 0 |
This work, SMSgt. Brian Williams: the man of iron, by SrA Katelynn Jackson, identified by DVIDS, must comply with the restrictions shown on https://www.dvidshub.net/about/copyright.
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