When I was halfway around the world living in a tent with nine other soldiers, I thought that getting home alive and in one piece might be the best thing that could ever happen to me.

I was wrong.

The best thing, thanks to my wonderful wife, Serena, was the birth earlier this semester of our amazing baby girl, Dillyn Riley Hensel. She is barely a month old, and already such a huge part of our lives.

But that’s getting ahead of the story that I want to share with veterans and non-veterans here at ACC.

In 2008 and 2009, I was with my unit (2-7 CAV, “The Ghost Battalion”) of the U.S. Army. We were in Amarah, Iraq, 50 miles from the Iranian border.

While there, we didn’t see heavy combat – though as an infantryman I was hoping for some. After all, that’s why we were there.

But life in such a place is dangerous and precious, even without heavy combat.

While in a convoy en route to Mijar Al-Kabir, just south of our province, a fellow solider by the name of Ruben Marcus Fernandez III was killed by a roadside bomb.

He was my friend, may he rest in peace.

Things like this can mess up a guy’s head.

After returning from Iraq, I spent a year and four months in the Army, completing my active tour of duty on Nov. 10, 2010. I had been stationed at Fort Hood, Texas.

I made the transition back to Colorado with a large U-Haul and my jeep in tow on a trailer. As for many veterans, that sort of drive was the easy part of getting back into civilian life. Though our snapshots of life were taken the day we left the country, things here went on without us.

When I returned, my grandmother, who was a large part of my life, was in the hospital undergoing chemotherapy. The plan was to move in with her in order to help with her recovery. But things were complicated, and other family members told me that I was not allowed to move in, so I ended up living with my mother and stepfather.

About five months after coming home, my grandmother’s cancer took over her body, and she passed away in April 2011.

So here I was, a broken man, with the loss of a friend while deployed and the loss of my best friend in my grandmother. No one tells you that the transition from military life fully back into civilian life will be one of your most difficult.

One moment you are carrying a weapon everywhere you go. Then, suddenly, you are asked to be normal without a weapon, and it is very difficult to deal with. The biggest difficulty was dealing with sensory overload, like traffic, crowded places and seeing the number of people from areas filled with our deadly enemies moving to this country.

For the past five years, I picked up fly-fishing as a way to cope with the transition, and it has helped me tremendously. From the sound of the river to the bend of your rod tip, the feeling of being outdoors is just the right cure.

Throughout those five years, I also avoided attending school because of the sensory overload and the thought of being in tight classroom. But now, I’m in my third semester at ACC and I owe it all to my then girlfriend, now wife.

Serena was my support system. She enrolled with me, and we attended the same classes together this past spring. If it weren’t for my wife, I would have continued to avoid school. But having a support system from your loved ones and friends can really help veterans like me.

I’m now feeling more confident than I ever have when dealing with the war baggage that I carry around.

I know now that greatest day of my life, was Aug. 29. When we became parents.

In closing, I challenge you to reach out to any veterans you know. Don’t be afraid to just ask how they are doing, or see if they need anything. That simple gesture goes a long way.

A very long way.

CPL Doug Hensel was honorably discharged from the U.S. Army five years ago. He lives in Denver with his wife and daughter. He is a second-year ACC student.