I asked Veteran Marine combat engineer Joseph White Eagle, who enlisted in 1988 and served in Desert Storm and Desert Shield, to share stories about his military experience that would make us laugh, cry, and reflect. He generously did that and more.

When Joe’s father met his senior drill instructor on the day before Joe’s boot camp graduation ceremony in San Diego, Mr. White Eagle asked him how his son was doing. The officer mentioned Joe’s inability to master marching. “That’s odd,” Mr. White Eagle replied, “because back home in Wisconsin, he’s a championship dancer.” Those words lingered in the drill instructor’s head.

Joe and the other men were in the rack when the instructor burst into the squad bay. “Private White Eagle!” Joe had to run and stand in front of him wearing only his skivvies. 

The instructor got so close to his face, the brim of his Smokey-the-Bear hat pressed into Joe’s forehead. “I met your dad tonight,” he said, walking around him. “He said you’re a championship dancer. White Eagle,” he barked, “do you know how to dance?”  

“Sir, no sir!” 

“White Eagle, you better dance or else.”

So Joe started doing a traditional warrior dance, war whooping, and giving a battle cry. 

Years later, when Joe got together with fellow veterans, they still remembered the sight of him dancing in his skivvies.

Joe enlisted in the Marines with his younger brother on the buddy program. A third brother would join later. Family members, including several uncles, were highly decorated. 

 It was important for the brothers to keep the long family tradition to serve as combat Marines.

Joe and his platoon had been training for a special combat mission in the desert. Their objective was to help the front line get through obstacles like minefields. When the day of their planned operation drew near, a second wave of Marines arrived. It struck Joe and the others that officials were anticipating casualties. It hit the men hard. Knowing Joe and his platoon were going out the next day, his relatives stayed up all night praying. Joe awoke that morning in Iraq, and even though thousands of miles separated them, he could smell the comforting cedar smoke from the family fireplace and hear the sound of the water drum and rattle. 

Before they set out, Joe asked if he could offer a prayer. His platoon was surprised because Joe hadn’t shared his beliefs before, but they agreed. He spoke from the heart telling about his family’s prayers for them. Tears ran down the faces of even the toughest marines. Fortunately, he and the others made it back home to their loved ones, and he and his brothers received special recognition from Governor Tony Evers.

Joe explained that loving one another is the Ho-Chunk way. They believe they need to do four things for a good life. 1. See good things. (Ignore the negative and concentrate on the positive.) 2. Hear good things. (Ignore rumors and lies.) 3. Say good things. (Speak with kindness.) 4. Do good things. (Love and help one another.)

Joe, whose Indian name means “Prince of the good-hearted people,” is a role model for those four beliefs. He works at the Wellness Center in Lake Delton as a fitness instructor and life coach. He’s also helped people with sobriety and substance abuse issues. He believes a good life starts with being good to yourself. Only then can you help others.

The Ho-Chunk Casino honors veterans, and they’re offering them a free lunch and a $25 rewards play on November 11th. Joe and his fellow veterans will participate in a flag-raising ceremony there at 11:00. Join them for a time to laugh, cry, and reflect.

Amy Laundrie is the author of “Laugh, Cry, Reflect: Stories From a Joyful Heart” and its sequel.