If you spent 2025 watching the news, you probably need a drink (go ahead, we’ll wait, you deserve it). Between the political BS and the ouroborous of “breaking news” that wasn’t actually breaking anything except our patience, it was easy to miss the stuff that actually mattered.
But while the rest of the country was doomscrolling through another argument with country-sponsored bots, there were our veterans and those currently serving, in the mud, the water, and the labs, doing what they do best: helping others.
We’re not talking about the photo-op ceremonies or the billion-dollar weapon systems that won’t work until 2035. We’re talking about the quiet wins, the ones that save lives when things go sideways.
Related: 5 Military tech breakthroughs of 2025 that are straight out of science fiction
The year is almost over. Before you clock out for the holidays, here are three moments of compassion and courage that you might have missed, but definitely shouldn’t have.
1. The “Check Engine Light” for Combat Casualties
The word “military innovation” has become an advertising tactic; it’s been used to describe everything from a space-age laser weapon to a toilet seat that happens to cost taxpayers $15,000 each (allegedly). They might as well rename it: “something that costs a trillion dollars and requires payment before completion.” Then there are the times when the biggest flex is not the biggest bomb; it’s a simple piece of code that keeps you alive long enough to get you back to your family.
In August 2025, Dr. Jaques Reifman and his team at the Army Medical Research and Development Command dropped a true game-changer in the New England Journal of Medicine AI. It’s called APPRAISE-HRI, and it’s basically a check-engine light for the human body. This year, the team behind it took home top honors for delivering the first FDA-cleared AI-enabled triage software from the Department of Defense.
Here’s the problem it solves: internal bleeding is a liar. A soldier can look fine when you are talking to them; they can also appear to be acting fine, all while their insides are silently quitting on them. By the time their blood pressure crashes, it’s often too late.
Dr. Reifman’s team built an AI that lives on a standard monitor (or even a smartphone) and reads the patterns in your vitals that a human eye can’t see. It gives medics an easy-to-understand risk level of I, II, or III, telling them exactly who is about to crash out before they crash. No guessing, no “wait and see.” Just a heads-up that says, “Hey Doc, this guy needs emergency evacuation right now.”
In a year where everyone was obsessed with AI writing bad school reports, the Army used it to buy the one thing you cannot create: time. It’s not sexy, and it won’t make the evening news, but for the medic trying to triage three guys in the dark, it’s a gift from the Gods.
2. The Coast Guard vs. The Sea
By Nov. 29, most of America was deep in a food coma. We were reheating Thanksgiving leftovers, avoiding family members, and nursing headaches from staring at our phones while shopping those sweet Cyber Monday deals. It was a national rest day.
Nobody told the salty ocean.
While you were arguing over flats or drumsticks, a U.S. Coast Guard crew from Sector Key West was fighting 6-to-8-foot seas to reach a disabled sailboat, the Oria, drifting helplessly about 12 miles north of Key West. The vessel had been battered by the weather, leaving two people stranded in waters that were rapidly turning from “kinda rad” to “I’m going to poop on myself” for two days.
This is the part of the job the recruiting commercials tend to gloss over. There were no bad guys to shoot, no dramatic explosions, and no Matrix-style soundtrack, just some boaters who weren’t quite prepared for a problem. The crew had to execute a precision approach under deteriorating conditions, coordinating a rescue that required nerves of steel and testicular fortitude.
It’s a reminder of the one thing every other branch eventually forgets: The Coast Guard is the only service at war 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. Their enemy is Poseidon’s wrath, and Poseidon doesn’t observe federal holidays.
3. The 50-Year Wait for the East Room
We all know military bureaucracy has two speed settings: “Hurry Up” and “Wait.” In the case of Specialist Fourth Class Kenneth J. David, the “Wait” lasted more than fifty years.
On January 3, 2025, the White House finally got it right. President Biden awarded the Medal of Honor to David for his actions in Vietnam back in May 1970. For those who are unaware, David was a Radio Telephone Operator (RTO) during the Vietnam War. In the jungle, the RTO is basically a walking target with an antenna sticking out of it. When the enemy wants to cut off a unit’s lifeline, they aim for the guy with the big pole poking up from his back.
During a particularly spicy engagement in Cambodia, David didn’t just do his job; he repeatedly exposed himself to heavy volumes of enemy fire in order to maintain comms and draw heat away from his wounded platoon mates. He consistently ignored his own safety to ensure his unit had a voice and that this voice would continue to be heard.
That gray-haired man standing by the President in 2025 wasn’t just a legend. He is what our reality truly is. It serves as a reminder for everyone out there who feels unappreciated: The system is flawed; we understand. The timeline is patient; it has forever to be, but honor will always find its way home.
It’s easy to look back at 2025 and see a highlight reel of arguments, dimming hope, and faux outrage. If you live in the comment sections, the world is being portrayed as pretty awful right now.
However, if you look away for a minute to what actually counts, to the stories being written in dirt, salt water, and medical tents, the year tells a different story. From Army researchers teaching those annoying AI bots to save lives, to Coasties launching into the storm while we slept, to a Vietnam vet finally getting his due, the soul is still there.
