Choosing to Serve

Calvin Shamoon

Chaldean veterans share their stories

By Sarah Kittle

People join the military for a variety of reasons, each a reflection of their own personal motivations and aspirations. For some, it’s a desire to serve their country and contribute to something greater than themselves; for others, it’s the pursuit of stability and benefits that a military career can provide.

Many are drawn by the promise of adventure, discipline, and the opportunity to develop skills that can be translated to civilian life. Ultimately, the decision to enlist is as complex and diverse as the individuals who make it, shaped by a unique blend of ideals, experiences, and circumstances.

For Devone Garmo, Joe Mousa, and Calvin Shamoon, the decision was made at the end of high school. All first-generation Chaldean Americans, they each elected to dedicate their post-secondary school years to their country’s military—Garmo and Shamoon to the United States Marine Corps, and Moussa to the U.S. Army.

Garmo comes from a patriotic family. His parents instilled pride and gratitude in him and his siblings for the fact that the United States took in the Chaldean community, including his parents, who came in the 1970s (dad) and 1980s (mom). According to Devone, they genuinely and wholeheartedly love this country.

When Garmo graduated from high school, rudderless and in need of direction, he looked to serve the country that had been good to him and his community. He wasn’t accepted at the universities he applied to, and that came as no surprise to him. He wasn’t what you would call a dedicated student. That would change years later when he used the GI Bill and an accelerated program specifically designed for veterans to obtain his BS in Nursing.

When Garmo enlisted, his family had a split reaction. His father took it well, but his mother broke down and cried at the thought of her 18-year-old son being sent away, possibly to war. By his own admission, he had “never even left the house.”

It turns out her fears were founded, as he was sent to Afghanistan within months of graduating boot camp. For Garmo, the military experience itself was a culture shock. “The movie ‘Full Metal Jacket’ portrays it perfectly,” he said. “You learn valuable, valuable lessons. But it is absolutely one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my life.”

It wasn’t long before his mom’s cart sported a bumper sticker that says,” My son is a Marine.”

Calvin Shamoon was influenced early in his life by the U.S. Marines in Iraq. His mother’s family was still there, and they shared stories with their family in America about the kind Marines that helped them through the crisis of being invaded. He didn’t think about it again until high school. “I started talking to a recruiter,” Shamoon said. “They obviously do their thing.”

He sat down and discussed the decision with his parents. Joining the military gave him purpose – Shamoon always wanted to help people. He also admits to a bit of selfishness in thinking the military could set him on the right path. And right away, it seemed like he made the right choice.

Shamoon went to basic training in South Carolina. “It was actually very fun, if I’m being honest,” he said. “It was hard, don’t get me wrong.”

He gained a sense of pride and learned to hold himself to a higher standard. “You learn a lot,” Shamoon recalled, about yourself, about the Marine Corps and their history.

Joe Mousa joined the Army as a tribute to his father, who worked in public service at the Iraqi Embassy in Washington, DC. What did he do there? Joe doesn’t know. His dad passed away before he could talk about it with his son.

Mousa joined the Army with an idea to go into intelligence, believing his knowledge of Arabic would serve him well. Joe wanted to get his foot in the door, hoping it would lead to a federal job he could dedicate his life to. When he was told he would have to go to school for a year to become fluent in reading and writing the Arabic language, he looked to other assignments.

He got lucky when a once-in-a-lifetime much-coveted “unicorn” position became available – a military canine handler, working with dogs to discover explosives and narcotics. Stationed in South Korea and then Arizona, Mousa was doing okay until back and knee problems prompted medications that when combined had an adverse effect, causing his heart to temporarily stop. He was medevacked for treatment and was eventually given a medical discharge. That was the end of his Army career in law enforcement.

The experience, however, enriched him. “It was eye-opening,” Mousa said of his time in the military. “I got to meet people from all walks of life, different religions, races.”

That immersive experience in different cultures is something all three veterans recounted. “We’re all the same,” said Mousa. “We’re all humans, you know – we love the same, feel the same.”

“You get a sense of all the different cultures,” said Shamoon. “All the different walks of life that everyone comes from.”

Other people that they met had the opportunity to learn about Chaldean culture, too. “Nobody even knows what a Chaldean really is in the military,” said Garmo. “I would say ‘I’m a Catholic Iraqi.’”

He got some chaff from a drill instructor once who said to the squad, “The enemy is here with us.” Of course, he was referring to Garmo’s Middle Eastern heritage. “It ended up becoming like a joke,” he assured. He was cool with most people, he said, although there were a few that asked him what he was doing in the military. “Aren’t you supposed to NOT like us?” they asked.

Garmo said the military instills a special bond, a “tightening” that serves to strengthen the group as a community. This is very relatable for Chaldeans. He especially connected to the Latino community in the military. “They are very, very close to their culture,” he said. “And that’s exactly how we are.” They are Catholic, to boot.

Mousa has features that don’t immediately identify him as Middle Eastern, but his last name is a giveaway; he said whenever he had the opportunity to explain his culture and history, he did so. “It was kind of cool to see their reaction,” he remembered. “A lot of them eventually find out we’re familiar, you know, Babylon and the Bible; they were amazed.”

Joe also felt a bond with others of Middle Eastern descent in the military. “We instantly felt a broad connection.” He had the opportunity to talk to people from other countries in his position with public relations. He went to Germany and had the chance to interview troops from the country of Georgia. “We’re really the same, and I think that’s the biggest takeaway for me,” said Mousa.

Steven Nofar’s father, Zuhair, served two terms in Vietnam with the U.S. Army. He didn’t share many war memories with his son, saying, “I take no pleasure or comfort in what I was ordered to do.” But along with the honorable discharge he received in 1971, Zuhair exited the Army with a new name, “Harry,” a certification in small arms repair, and a medal for being a rifle marksman.

He came to the U.S. at the age of 12 and dropped out of high school, so he enlisted at the age of 19. He was proud to serve his new country and sent money home to his parents, who spoke no English, every month. When he got out, he had multiple job offers but went to work for the UPS before opening his own supermarket. One thing that the military taught Harry and that he passed on to his children – you cannot quit.

The journeys of Harry Nofar, Devone Garmo, Joe Mousa, and Calvin Shamoon highlight the multifaceted motivations behind military service, particularly within the Chaldean American community. Their stories reflect a deep commitment to family, culture, and personal growth, revealing how enlistment can shape identities and foster connections across diverse backgrounds.

As these veterans navigated the challenges and triumphs of their military experiences, they not only honored their heritage but also embodied the universal values of resilience, service, and unity. Through their service, they illustrated that the path to personal fulfillment often intertwines with a dedication to something far greater, reinforcing the idea that we are indeed all connected in our shared humanity.