FORT DRUM, N.Y. -- Musicians who land a record deal and get to open for bands like Henry Rollins of the legendary punk rock band Black Flag don't typically give up the stage and any aspirations for fame and fortune to join the military.
But 10th Mountain Division (LI) Soldier Spc. Brian Rawlins was not what many would call your typical punk rocker. After six years as lead singer of the northern California-based punk band Madhouse Disciples, the brawny, tattooed singer-songwriter enlisted in the Army in his mid-20s.
"I had always wanted to join the military," Rawlins said. "And I was at a point in life where I knew if I didn't do it, I would regret it for the rest of my life."
Although Rawlins would leave punk's sweaty mosh pits and grotesque howls behind, his Great Highland bagpipes -- which he actually played in some Madhouse Disciples songs -- have found special and meaningful expression on Fort Drum.
BATHROOMS, BAGPIPES & BEARS
The oldest of five children, Rawlins grew up on the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada mountain range roughly an hour's drive northeast of Sacramento, Calif.
He was around 7 when he asked his grandfather to teach him to play the bagpipes.
James Rawlins, an immigrant from Tipperary County in the southeast of Ireland, had learned to play the bagpipes while growing up in New York City before fighting during World War II in Patton's Third Army.
"He said no -- flat out," Rawlins recalled. "He didn't think I would be committed enough."
Rawlins' family was living at the time in his grandfather's two-story home near Auburn, Calif. He said the droning of his grandfather's bagpipes vibrated the bathroom above his bed every night.
"My grandmother hated the sound, so he had to wait for her to go to sleep at the opposite end of the house before he could play in the bathroom," he said. "It was really cool though because I got to listen to him play all the time."
Although portions of home life were troubled at times, Rawlins said his grandfather kept him on the "straight and narrow." Dragged to Catholic Mass every Saturday and twice more on Sundays, Rawlins would in time become an altar boy and Eucharistic minister.
"He was a big component for me in my religious education," he said. "He kept me out of trouble."
Rawlins said his big break came in high school, when his grandfather told him to come by for bagpipe lessons every day after work or football and wrestling practices.
At the time, Rawlins' family had moved back into the mountains, where they lived with no indoor plumbing and no electricity. Rawlins said that in addition to lots of fishing and hunting, he walked the length of a football field to fetch water from a well and spent months splitting up to four cords of wood each year before winter.
Two-hour bagpipe lessons with his grandfather continued daily through his senior year of high school. Rawlins said he also practiced outside of his home, where there was no shortage of dangerous wildlife every evening.
"When you first start learning, it's bad," he said. "If you don't keep air in the bag, it sounds like someone stabbing a cow. So my Dad told me to go outside to play."
Rawlins guesses the awful racket scared the black bears and mountain lions enough that they never approached him.
After seven months or so of lessons, Rawlins said he hated his progress and considered quitting. He said a lot of timing and coordination goes into learning the bagpipes. All at once, one must blow into a reed, finger the right notes, squeeze the bag and ensure enough air remains to circulate and drive the whining and humming tunefully through the drones.
His grandfather could see his grandson was losing steam with the pipes.
Rather than end it, however, his grandfather arranged with a friend to send Rawlins to one of the largest Highland game events in the world -- the Scottish Highland Gathering and Games, a 150-year-old event near San Francisco where Scottish and Celtic cultures are celebrated with music, dance, exhibits and rugged athletic competitions.
"On the last day, my grandfather came down to watch the games and the gathering of the bands," Rawlins recalled. "They had some of the best bagpipers in world competing -- something like 960 bagpipers, 600 snare drums and 200 bass drums. They also had the Marine Corps Brass Band.
"They all started playing 'Amazing Grace,' in perfect synchronization," he said. "I saw that, and I thought: OK, I'm doing this."
When Rawlins' grandfather died not long afterward, he left his grandson his Great Highland bagpipes -- an impressive family heirloom made of burnished African black oak, cream-white ivory and hand-carved silver. His grandfather stipulated in his will that the beneficiary never stop playing the pipes.
PURPOSE & PAGEANTRY
In addition to playing gigs in the Sacramento area, Rawlins divided his time between work, studying at Sacramento City College and playing rugby at the school.
Before enlisting in the Army in 2012, he regularly played "Amazing Grace" -- the first song he learned on his grandfather's bagpipes -- during family weddings, funerals and other events.
Last year, he checked into 277th Aviation Support Battalion, 10th Combat Aviation Brigade, as a Chinook helicopter mechanic.
On his first day on the job, Rawlins caught the eye of his command sergeant major.
"I was accompanying his platoon on a run, (and) he immediately stood out as a motivated individual who seemed to enjoy our run through a sandpit," recalled Master Sgt. Daniel L. Snyder, interim command sergeant major at the time for 277th ASB.
After asking Rawlins about his tattoos, Snyder learned the young specialist's name.
"Like Henry Rollins?" Snyder asked.
"Yeah, spelled differently though," Rawlins replied.
Snyder was very impressed. The two punk rock fans discussed whether Rollins was better with Black Flag or as a single artist later on.
Then Snyder learned that Rawlins had actually opened for one of punk rock's cult favorites.
"We didn't stop talking for the rest of the run," Snyder said. "Our conversation made apparent that we shared the same passion for the Army."
Snyder, who recently left Fort Drum for the U.S. Army Sergeants Major Academy in Fort Bliss, Texas, asked Rawlins if he was interested in being his driver. Rawlins happily accepted. He also gladly agreed to play the bagpipes on occasion to motivate Soldiers during battalion physical training.
"Spc. Rawlins reaffirmed my belief that, when I retire, the Army will be left in not only good hands but to those individuals who have a positive future for the Army," Snyder said.
A few months after becoming Snyder's driver, Rawlins learned that the 10th Mountain Division (LI) needed a replacement bagpiper to play during remembrance ceremonies and other events.
Although more of an informal division requirement, the bagpiper's rendition of "Amazing Grace" typically accompanies the bugler's lonely notes of taps to lend a ceremonial aesthetic to solemn events.
Along with two other division Soldiers, Rawlins auditioned for the position last winter and was selected.
Since then, he has performed at more than two dozen events on post, adding a splendor and pageantry to ceremonies that mean so much to so many.
Rawlins said it can be hard to play "Amazing Grace" at times, because of its mournful drone in certain settings.
"But a handful of people usually come up to me after the ceremony and thank me for how beautiful it was," Rawlins said. "It really means something to them, and that means something to me."
He said the Whiteface Mountain rededication ceremony in the Adirondacks in July, which honors 10th Mountain Division (LI) Soldiers past and present, was particularly special for him.
"I got to shake hands with all of these World War II veterans and to tell them thank you for what they did -- guys (my grandfather) had served with," Rawlins said. "I think he would be very happy and proud to see I am not only still playing the bagpipes but also incorporating it into something meaningful in the Army."
Rawlins, who hopes to serve for at least 20 years in the Army, may not be performing center stage anymore in a band he said he often misses. But he said serving his country, while also volunteering to play the bagpipes for his fellow Soldiers and their Family Members, has been the honor of a lifetime.
"The bagpipes have been such a special instrument for my family," he said. "And I never could have imagined playing for an organization I wanted to be a part of since I was a child … and being able to honor all the fallen Soldiers from the 10th Mountain Division, past and present."
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