11/11/2025
On Veterans Day, I want to tell you about the best years of my life.
I served in the United States Navy from 1985 to 1990. Five years. Three wars. Four months in the Persian Gulf. And honestly? It was incredible.
I was an Electrician's Mate running 1,200-pound steam power plants aboard the USS Josephus Daniels, a guided missile cruiser over 600 feet long. That's the engine room. That's where the power lives. I also earned the Enlisted Surface Warfare Specialist designation—the only specialist designation for surface combatants. Our insignia is crossed cutlasses beneath a warship breaking the water—the naval enlisted sword, the weapon of boarding parties and close-quarters combat.
I could run the engines. Man the guns. Navigate the bridge. Coordinate combat operations. And I got to do it with some of the finest people I've ever known.
THE COLD WAR
We crossed the Atlantic, sailed through the Straits of Gibraltar into the Mediterranean, and headed into the Dardanelles Straits and the Black Sea. You know, where the Russians hang out.
This was the Cold War. The actual Cold War. Tensions were real. Stakes were high. And everybody was watching everybody else.
Every time we did a perpendicular cross, there they were—Russian Bear aircraft flying right on our track. Not dive bombing. Just tracking. Communicating without words: We see you. We're watching. That's Cold War.
We nearly got struck by other large Russian ships in the Black Sea. Like, nearly. As in, "that was closer than anyone wanted it to be" nearly. Russian combatant ships. Russian spy vessels. Constantly tracking us. That's Cold War.
Then we transited the Suez Canal—which, if you've never done it, is basically threading a needle while someone's watching you very carefully and you're sweating through your uniform. We popped out into the Indian Ocean, sailed through the Straits of Hormuz, and ended up in the Persian Gulf for about four months.
And while we were there? We helped end the Iranian Navy. That's not something you do on a vacation. That's combat. That's real. That's the kind of s**t that sticks with you for 40 years.
Then there was the War on Drugs in the Caribbean Sea. Two tours on Law Enforcement Operations (LEOs), working alongside Coast Guard cutters to interdict high-speed drug boats. We mounted 30mm cannons on the bow of our ship. Our orders were crystal clear: disable the engines. Anything else would be murder.
No deployment since has come close to that level of James Bond-esque, absolutely ridiculously crazy, exotic, super-f**king intense time in the world. The Cold War. The War on Drugs. The Iran-Iraq/USA-Iran War. The Dardanelles Straits. The Black Sea. The Caribbean Sea. The Persian Gulf. The Suez Canal. The Indian Ocean.
I've got the perspective now—aged, honed, validated by decades of living with what that actually meant.
THE BROTHERHOOD
But here's what really matters—it wasn't just the wars and the places. It was the men.
I stood watch in Engine Room 2 with my shipmates from the USS Josephus Daniels. A and E berthing. The hull techs, the electricians, the guys who actually made the ship go. And 40 years later, I'm still friends with many of them. We still talk. We still check in. These are men who became honorable leaders, fathers, citizens.
I was younger than all of them. Much younger. And when you're the young guy, the fit guy with extra muscle, the guys kind of adopt you. They take you under their wing. You become part of something bigger than yourself.
That's what Andy C. did for me. Several years my senior, he looked out for me. Protected me. Brought me into the fold. And 40 years later, we're still friends. We still talk. We still check in.
And Andy? He was connected to guys from SEAL Team 6. Fraternity brothers before the Navy, they came in together and stayed tight. One of them—Pete K.—was a SEAL Team 6 squad leader. Mini-sub guy. Spent 30 years in. Did things so classified that even he couldn't talk about them.
So here's the thing: because Andy took me under his wing, I got to be part of that world. SEAL Team 6 took me under their wing for one magical summer. I got to know what it meant to be around men who understood honor, discipline, and the weight of real responsibility. The cutlass and the trident—different insignias, same oath, same brotherhood.
There was a summer—one of those lost summers you never forget—where we spent our time drinking and chasing ladies with great vigor and joy. It was the kind of carefree, youthful experience that you carry with you for the rest of your life. The kind of memory that makes you smile when you're older and thinking back on what it meant to be alive and young and surrounded by men who had your back.
And me? They nicknamed me "Snorkel"—though they never told me to my face. It was a secret joke. I happened to like skin diving, and they were all re-breathing divers, so when I told them a story about my diving experience, they thought it was hilarious. They called me Snorkel behind my back, and I didn't find out until much later.
That's the kind of brotherhood we're talking about. Not the kind you read about in recruitment posters. The kind that's real—messy, funny, full of inside jokes and genuine affection. The kind that lasts 40 years.
THE STANDARD
When I was in the Navy, we had a standard. It was simple: Can you do your job? Do you have honor? Can I trust you?
That was it. That was everything.
STANDING WATCH AT WELLNESS CROFT
At Wellness Croft, we're a veteran-owned company. That's not just a designation. It's a commitment to build something based on the values we learned in service: honor, integrity, discipline, and the understanding that we're responsible for something bigger than ourselves.
We're standing watch in a different way now. We're creating living wage jobs. We're building wealth. We're proving that the values we learned in service matter in the civilian world too.
To all who served—thank you. To all who are serving—we stand with you. To all who will serve—we're building something worth defending.
The cutlass and the trident, side by side, defending the same oath.
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Timothy M. O'Neil
CEO, Wellness Croft, Inc.
US Navy Veteran, 1985–1990
Electrician's Mate, Surface Warfare Specialist
USS Josephus Daniels
Combat Veteran, Iran-Iraq War
Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal
Wellness Croft: Veteran-Owned. Values-Driven. Standing Watch.
