Dad Talks #2: Brad Thomas

In conversation with the Delta Force vet and all around dude

Brad Thomas is a bad motherfucker. He’s also a good motherfucker. He’s both. In fact, there’s a lot of dichotomy in Brad’s life. He’s a Special Operator but also a rock and roller, two things that, on the surface, don’t necessarily go hand-in-hand. But, as Brad illustrates, they’re two roles that might share more DNA that we may think.

Brad’s military career started in May of 1990 as an enlisted soldier. From there, he worked his way to become an Army Ranger, a unit with whom he deployed to Africa, where he fought in Battle of Mogadishu (an event made famous by the movie Black Hawk Down). After a few years and deployments with the Rangers, Brad was selected as a member of Delta Force, the Army’s most elite special missions unit, where he served for the following two decades.

Since retiring, Brad has focused on making music with his band, Silence and Light, which is made up of former Special Operators, one of whom was most famously kicked out of both Nirvana and Soundgarden before finding his calling in the Special Forces.

Brad and his wife have two sons, one who is twenty-four, one who is twenty (and recently finished basic training). I caught up with Brad for a great conversation about balancing fatherhood with the stresses that come with making a living in a violent line of work, the nature of acceptance, and, of course, a bit of rock and roll.

Brad then, about to get to work.

I left this weekend to go mountain biking for four days and I was—not quite weeping—but I was very sad to leave my family. And that’s to go mountain biking. You left your family regularly to work in very hostile and potentially deadly situations. How did you did balance that heavy of an emotion and still find the space to focus on your ultra-high-stress work environment?

One of the common traits you’ll find with people who are successful in my line of work—and, as you know, it’s probably true to some degree with touring musicians, too—is the ability to compartmentalize things. To put things away when they need to be put away and focus on the job.

Even if I could communicate more regularly with my family when I was deployed, I would limit my communications so that it didn’t disrupt the things I had going on so that I could focus on the things I needed to do. Initially deploying without children but being married, it was a challenge, but it wasn’t the same type of challenge. Once children were involved, it was very hard to look at them and know this might be the last time—not that I see them—but the last time they see me.

And you had to do that often, no?

Yeah. There were, I think five deployments once I had kids. And it was gut-wrenching. But once the initial departure was out of the way, it was like, “Okay. Now I gotta focus on the things I gotta focus on.”

Was there ever a discussion with you and your wife once kids entered the picture that you might find a different, less dangerous line of work? Or was it more, “This is who I married and this is what he does?”

I think it was an understood that this is what I do. But also, part of the reason I’m doing what I’m doing is that I’m providing for my family. And it was the best way to provide for them. And being in the military after twelve, fourteen years, it would have been a big life change (to do something else). There would have been a pay cut, it would have been a big lifestyle shift where we would have been suddenly moving every three, four years.

That’s the one thing about being in Delta Force is the stability of the assignment. My kids were in the same school the whole time. It’s not like they were being bounced around from military installation to military installation.

So in a way, you insulated them from becoming “Army brats.”

Totally. If anything, they saw neighbors coming and going. It wasn’t them. It was all the people around us.

Once your sons were old enough, how did you approach explaining to them what you did for a living, beyond just being a solider but the idea that your job was very dangerous?

It took a lot longer than most people would imagine for them to understand what it is they lived through. Part of it is a little bit getting older, having understanding of mortality, part of it is just curiosity about their childhood and things they were going on.

A funny story is when my youngest son came home from first grade and asked what I did for a living. All the kids in his class were saying what their parents did and he didn’t know what to say. I told him I was a solider and he looked at me like I was crazy.

“You don’t look like a solider,” he said.

And I said, “Think about that. What does that allow me to do?”

“Maybe it allows you to do things that other soldiers can’t do.”

And I thought that was pretty on point for a first grader. But it wasn’t really until the video games started, Call of Duty, that type of thing. And then they would start asking me if I carried this type of gun or that type of weapon, asking how I would hold it or if I ever killed anyone with a certain type of weapon. But it was all in relation to the video games, not really connecting the emotional parts of my job, the sacrifice, the loss, and everything else.

But that’s kind of how it evolved from “What do you do?” to things that were more tangible. And through that, they could understand a little bit better what I did.

And were you always super open with them about your work?

Yeah, I was never one of those people that was like, “Don’t talk to grandpa about the war.” I was always very honest with them.

I do remember there was a tough time at home and I remember telling them that they didn’t appreciate what I have to live through just to provide for them, so they are fed and have a good place to live and are in great schools and don’t move around and all that. And I think those are things that won’t be appreciated until they’re adults with kids of their own.

And now your younger one is entering the military.

Yeah, it’s come full circle (Brad laughs a hearty laugh and I can only assume he’s remembering his own time in basic training). All the things he used to ask me about, now he’s seeing firsthand.

Is he playing his cards close to his chest about who you are? Because maybe his drill instructors will give him more shit about it if they know their dad was a Tier One Operator?

Sure, and to some degree, they’re going to find out. And there will be extra—air quotes—love shown to him. But the message they try to send is that you have to stand on your own two feet. It doesn’t matter where you came from or who your parents might be, you still have your own shoes to fill.

I served with a number of legacy soldiers and some were successful, some weren’t. It doesn’t mean shit who your father was if you can’t do the job. And he’s very aware of that.

Did you know he was planning to enlist?

It came out of the blue. He came home from college with a 3.8, 3.9 GPA, and said college was a waste of money, he felt like he wasn’t learning anything. And he said, “I want to join the Army.”

I told him not to join the Army because he didn’t like college; to join the Army because he wanted to join the Army. We had a long conversation that there was never an expectation for him to do this. There is no expectation for him to do what I did. He could be a truck driver or a mechanic and I would be equally proud of him. I wouldn’t even care if he joined the Navy (another belly laugh).

What if, a couple of years down the road, he comes to you and says he wants to pursue becoming an Operator. Knowing firsthand the dangers of what many Operators deal with, is that something you’re prepared for?

We had a conversation about it and really it just came down to him knowing he had to be the best he could be at the thing that he is at the time. Just because you want to go somewhere else, you need to focus on being the best you can be at whatever it is you’re doing. Be the best solider you can be, be the best Ranger you can be, because if you can’t perform there, you won’t make it to Delta Force.

My only concern with him being unsuccessful at anything he attempts, especially anything that I did, is that it messes with him psychologically. There are a lot more things than physical prowess and mental acuity that get you through. So much of it is luck and timing. If you step off the truck at the wrong time and twist your ankle, it can radically change the trajectory of your life.

How are you reckoning with the idea of him being put in potentially dangerous situations?

In this situation, I’m not really compartmentalizing. I’m allowing myself to feel all the emotions. But it helps that I know where he is, I’m thinking about what he’s doing right now, down at Fort Benning, out in the heat.

Is that easier in a way, that you know exactly what he’s going through?

It’s worse. I told him that I had it a lot easier than he did because I had no idea what I was getting into. He knows all the stuff he’s getting into, everything that’s coming.

Did I read somewhere that one of your sons is gay? I’m curious how your background in perhaps the world’s most macho profession informed your journey with your son coming out.

Yeah, my older one is gay. I knew from the time he was two-and-a-half that something wasn’t the same with the way I played with toys, the things that were appealing to me as a young boy.

One Christmas, he was asking for a Barbie car. And so, Santa brought it to him and he was immediately like, “Yeah but where are the Barbies?” So next day, we went out and got some Barbies. And that quickly morphed into dressing like a princess, wearing princess shoes and getting a Belle dress from Beauty and the Beast. His entire family was always in the loop, always very accepting. And he was fully open about the things he found fascinating and we supported that fully.

But the biggest surprise to me is that even though everyone around you loves you for who you are and exactly the way you are, it doesn’t mean you’re accepting of yourself. So that’s been his biggest struggle, his own personal dealing with the issue. And that’s been incredibly painful to watch.

Let’s talk about your music a bit. That’s something that’s one of the most important things in your life. Has that been something you’ve always shared with your kids? Did you intentionally expose them to it or was it something you let them find themselves?

I exposed them to music and live music very early on. I hoped that one of them would have gotten the music bug. My younger son absolutely loves music and he’s into all the same stuff that I’m in to, so it kind of works out. But neither one of them has the desire to pick up an instrument or compose or write. And that’s either in you or it isn’t. And I never wanted to be the type who forced it on them because I thought it was good for them. I didn’t want to be that type of parent.

And they understand too that it’s still a big part of my life, that writing and playing music a big passion of mine. They recognize that I still have things to do, that I have a life that I’m actively pursuing. That I’m not just some washed up guy.

What kind of dad was your dad? And what lessons from him, what kind of parenting style have you tried to carry you forward? And what have you tried to avoid?

I don’t think I appreciated or understood my dad fully until I was older. He was a great father, great provider; a great example of hard work and dedication and devotion and all of that. I had a great childhood, no trauma, none of that.

But my dad was a little more hands off. He wasn’t really a touchy, feely, huggy dad. And I didn’t need that. But you do need that to some degree. So if anything, I went overboard with my kids as a very hands on, a very—when I was there; which was about nine months out of the year when I was deploying—emotionally present parent.

Brad now, getting to work.

You can check out Silence and Light at their website:

https://www.silenceandlightmusic.com/

Or follow them on Instagram and Facebook.

And link up with Brad on the socials here and here.