The folks at Military Phonies sent us their work on this fellow, Eric Joseph Johnson, who is a fairly prolific writer at Twitter and Reddit. Some of the names he’s used are “TrollingThunder”, “Problematic Johnson”, “Metalmartyr” and more recently “Martial Daww”. He claims that he served with 101st Airborne Division’s 187th Infantry Regiment (“Rakkasans”) during Operation Anaconda, a battle that was fought March 2, 2002 until about March 18th;
Yeah, well if he was in that battle, he needs to alert the Army, they thought that he was a deserter during that period. According to his records, he came off of deserter status (DFR – dropped from rolls) on March 27th, 2002. He’d been AWOL since April 4, 2001 while he was in Advanced Individual Training at Fort Benning after a little more than 2 months of training. He’d never been assigned to the 101st or the 187th Regiment. He spent three months after he was apprehended at Fort Knox getting processed out of the Army and then he was out on the street.
No awards, no combat, just a brief military career interrupted by being a deserter and a prisoner.
Mr. Johnson sends this;
I see people speculating about what may cause someone to do this. I don’t know what drives other people, but I can try to explain why I did. I tend to be long winded, but I’ll attempt to make my points as quickly as possible.
I despise my rash decision in early April 2001 to slip out of Ft Benning one afternoon while on light indoor duty profile due to a foot injury. In a life full of disappointments and stupid choices, this is still the one that eats at me the most. I had joined the Army infantry for the wrong reason. My ASVAB scores were high enough that I could have had my pick of MOS. Instead, I wanted to earn the respect of my role model, someone whose respect I craved my entire life, who I had been estranged from for many years. I chose to go in to the infantry, because I was sure that would prove I was worthy of respect from this person. My recruiter promised me Airborne school, but I ended up assigned as an 11X and during boot camp was made a Bradley Dismount (I think it was 11M at the time). Since I was fairly certain that Bradleys aren’t typically deployed by air, I was disappointed. But I kept going. I wanted to fight in a war, just like my “hero” had, because I thought that would show this person that I wasn’t the complete fuckup that I had felt like I was since I was a child. While at Ft. Benning I discovered that my role model had lied to me about their entire military service and multiple combat tours. I had listened and believed and proudly spread these lies my entire life up to that point. I refused to believe it and was then provided with concrete evidence, more damning even than what is posted here about me. I was completely blindsided. Devastated doesn’t even describe how I felt. I couldn’t even wrap my head around this news, and instead of speaking to someone or trying to tough it out, I just lost my shit and left. I deeply regret that.
I walked into a recruiting office in early 2002 and said that I was AWOL and wanted to know how to go back. The recruiters called the police, I was taken to county jail, and there I waited for a week or so until I was released and handed a bus ticket to Ft Knox. After a bunch of processing and waiting around at Ft Knox, a few men called me into an office to sign paperwork. I believe there was a JAG (I may be incorrect), an E7 and an Officer who did the talking. I immediately asked if I could go back to Benning and complete OSUT. It wasn’t too long after 9/11 and like most everyone in America, I was pissed and wanted to go fight. I had mostly gotten over the rage and feelings of betrayal at that point (so I thought), and wanted to do what I promised to do. Unfortunately due to how long I was gone, the fact that I had been arrested a couple of times while I was “on the lam” (I have no clue why my deserter status never came up during those arrests), and probably just the fact that my face pissed the decision makers off, my request was firmly denied. I wonder sometimes if I had told them what happened and why I bitched out if it would have made a difference. At the time I was worried that if I told them they would somehow make life difficult for my former role model. In the meantime I had alienated everyone who gave a damn about me and I had nowhere to go. When I stepped off the bus in Ohio I didn’t know who to call or where to go. I was a mess. Within three months I was homeless. They put a notation, or a code, or something on my DD-214 that immediately told recruiters that I could not reenlist. I know that because I tried, and even asked if there was a waiver available because “I really mean it this time”. I was told that wasn’t possible. I found out a few years ago that there actually was a possibility of getting a waiver and re-evaluation, but at that point I was over 35 and too deep in my self dug scumpond of bullshit to crawl my way out of it anyway.
Now, before I continue, this isn’t a pity party I’m throwing. I was homeless because of my own choices as an adult. I was arrested multiple times because I’m an asshole. People didn’t want to be around me because I was unpredictable and mean. I’ve tried in the past to blame things that happened during my childhood for my behavior and the decisions I made later in life, but as I’ve gotten older I’ve come to know that I made those choices on my own. Lots of people grow up in shitty situations and don’t end up like me. I’m just trying to own it and explain how this came to be a post on militaryphony.com and thisainthell.us with my face plastered on it. To do so I wanted to give a bit of backstory.
Over the next five or so years after leaving the Army I moved constantly. I think that I lived in eight different states and maybe a dozen cities at the time. I was staying wherever I could and working odd jobs until I got bored and just stopped going or let my temper get the better of me and got fired. I’d inevitably alienate the few friends I had made or get dumped by whoever I was shacking up with and I’d just pack up and go somewhere else. It became routine, and I was pretty much numb to it. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, I just knew that I was a scumbag who self medicated with copious amounts of alcohol that had nobody he could count on, no more than $100 bucks in my pocket at any one time, and although I wished many times that I could do so, was too cowardly to even kill myself. It was around this time that the paid blogging boom started, and with my one recognizable gift (spinning a pretty decent tale), I had steady work as long as I had access to a computer, and any library in any city had one of those.
I also discovered reddit and Facebook and Twitter and suddenly I felt like I could be someone else. I could be someone that people respected. I got to be this person I have always wished that I had turned out to be and nobody would ever be the wiser. The problem was that sometimes I’d meet people in real life that I had talked to first online. It got really dicey when it turned out that we liked each other and wanted to hang out. Now I’ve put myself into a situation where they may ask me specifics about my military service and I’d have to lie to their faces. As the years went on, the friends met other friends, and we’d all become close friends. I couldn’t tell my new friends the truth because what if they told my other friends? What about that girl that I’d been talking to? Things were going really well! That would be over in a heartbeat if she knew I had been lying to her from the second we met. So the lies stacked up.
In a pathetic and ironic turn of events, I had ended up doing the exact thing that shook me hard enough to influence my snap decision to leave the Army in the first place. It snowballed. And kept snowballing. That fucking snowball weighed 10,000 lbs and parked itself right on my shoulders. Just as I was too cowardly to kill myself, I was also too cowardly to come clean. I didn’t even know how I would begin to unravel this mess, and although I wanted to for years, I could never come up with a way to put an end to the stories without hurting people I care about and fucking up my life even more. I considered starting over again, new city, new state, no more lies. Unfortunately I had become too close to some people that I really wanted to keep in my life. I went from feeling better, doing better, staying clean(ish) and actually showering on a regular basis to feeling like a scumbag again. I became suicidal once more, and that hasn’t changed. In fact, it was my first thought when I saw this post, because at my core I’m a selfish, fucked up coward. But I can’t do that. I’ve hurt the person closest to me badly with my lies, killing myself would only make it so much worse for her. I recently heard someone compare killing oneself to a suicide bomb, devastating those closest to you with the destruction and pain spreading out from the center to everyone who cares for you. There aren’t a great many people that would be affected by my death (and some that would applaud it), but those that would be affected don’t deserve to be hurt by me yet again.
It never even occurred to me that I was doing something awful, because I never set out to hurt anyone. I rationalized it as harmless. I was being completely selfish in an attempt to make myself into someone worthy of respect, and never realized that even though I never profited from my lies, never used any of the available services (I believe there are a few, because I have an OTH Discharge instead of a Dishonorable), never put on a uniform and tried to pass myself off at a function for the real heroes… I didn’t realize that what I was doing was just as bad. As I put it to someone earlier when I was discussing this, a piece of shit that stinks less than the other pieces of shit is still a piece of shit.
I was surprised when all this came out. I couldn’t comprehend that I had done something so wrong towards vets, or why it was such a big deal compared to most of the other people I see here and at militaryphoney.com. I lied to people I care about and a person that I love dearly, and that’s a really really shitty thing to do, but it just didn’t compute that what I had done was horrible enough to publicly out me, ensuring that I would be forever immortalized as a liar and a coward. I’ve had an obsessed lunatic filing changes of address to divert my mail, posting my home address online, stalking my every move online, harassing my friends and family and threatening my wife for nearly two months. That started well before these posts came out and they’ve only upped their crazy since then. So I slept on it, and I spent a few days thinking it over and eventually I figured it out. I then started writing this, and for the past month I have rewritten and edited it repeatedly while trying to find the courage to just press the “post comment” button. The experiences that I claimed as my own are deeply personal to people that have actually had them. That’s a brotherhood and a camaraderie that I didn’t earn and don’t deserve to be a part of. I used their experiences because I don’t have enough self esteem or self respect to think that people will ever have any respect for the “real” me. And about that I’m absolutely correct. I don’t even know who I am anymore, this has gone on for long enough now that the lie became a part of me. That I didn’t understand the gravity of my actions doesn’t excuse them one bit. That I didn’t understand the utter disrespect that I was showing veterans says a lot about me as a person. None of it good.
Why would someone fake part (or all) of their military service? I have no idea why anyone else does. Some undoubtedly do it for profit and recognition. I’ve read stories and posts about those people in the past and I have scoffed and called them horrible people, without having the self awareness to realize that I was just as bad. Some probably do it for the same reasons that I did, out of shame and a desire to be respected. People are strange, diverse creatures and I assume there are myriad reasons why someone would tell loved ones that they were an Army Ranger Delta SEAL Team Six Para-Recon fighter pilot with 14 deployments, 137 confirmed hand-to-hand kills and nine Silver Stars. I did it initially to play the person that I wanted to be in “real life” while online in the “make believe” world of the internet, and it got completely out of control. It was a convenient story to explain my frequent nightmares and mood swings when they were brought up by loved ones. The reason behind that are much less interesting and much more difficult to discuss. I did it hoping that people would believe I was something that I am not, someone that they would want to be friends with. I did it simply because I’m a bag of shit that doesn’t deserve any of the happiness I have “earned” with my lies.
So then, what do most people do when they get caught, I wonder? Some probably come clean pretty quickly. Many likely double down, and swear that everything they’ve said is true, hoping and praying that their friends and family will continue to believe them. They won’t. I imagine that some kill themselves, and that many just end up in a downward spiral of depression and denial that eventually ruins them. I guess it really depends on how much someone has to lose when they’re exposed, or whether or not they are able to handle the fallout and the fact that they will be forever remembered for this, no matter what else they do with the rest of their lives. I suppose that it also matters how much someone is willing to accept that this is the fault of nobody but ourselves. I have no idea what my future holds, but right now I’m not very optimistic. Any future that I try to imagine is forever tainted by my lies. Some phonies have likely built entire careers and families and circles of friends on the backs of their lies. The person that had filled my head with stories of battlefield glory and helped nudge my initial tumble down this rabbit hole certainly has, but I’ve never exposed them or even told them that I know the truth, because the result would be catastrophic and I just can’t be the one that sets those events into motion. Knowing that they’ve probably seen this post and have told others how disappointed they are in me is darkly humorous, but I will live with that and keep what I know about them quiet. In the end I have nobody to blame for this but myself.
And that’s that. I hope that I never caused any vets pain or brought up awful memories with my stories. The fact that I may have is something that I’ve only just started realizing, and that’s a hard realization. I told you that I tend to be long winded, and I apologize that this ended up so wordy. For those of you that have read all of this, hopefully it answers some of your questions. To the veterans that deserve the respect that I have so often claimed, “sorry” doesn’t even begin to cover what I owe you. I will start with that, though. I apologize to the men (and women) who legitimately serve and have served in combat deployments around the world. To those that gave their lives in service to this country, I used your selfless sacrifice which was earned and paid for in blood and stole the valor owed to you for my own selfish whims. There is no forgiveness for that, nor do I expect to be forgiven. I am truly, deeply sorry.
