In this episode of the Jocko Podcast, Jocko Willink speaks with Debbie "Mama" Lee about the loss of her son Marc Lee, the first Navy SEAL killed in Iraq, and how she transformed her grief into action by founding America's Mighty Warriors Foundation. The conversation explores the nature of grief, practical strategies for processing loss, and the importance of presence over words when supporting those who are grieving.
Debbie Lee discusses the foundation's comprehensive support programs for military families, veterans, and Gold Star families, including emergency grants, healing retreats, and a treatment program that addresses TBI and PTSD through hyperbaric oxygen therapy and personalized medical care. The episode also examines the protective power of military brotherhood, the physical realities of blast-induced brain injuries, and the foundation's work to provide veterans with alternative healing approaches that address root causes rather than symptoms.

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Mark Lee, the first Navy SEAL killed in Iraq on August 2, 2006, left a legacy that extends far beyond his service. His mother, Debbie "Mama" Lee, transformed her grief into action by founding America's Mighty Warriors Foundation, which began with supporting one platoon and grew to serve the wider military community. Twenty years after Mark's death, a "Bruiser Reunion" in San Diego brought together over a hundred Task Unit Bruiser members and their families, demonstrating the enduring bonds Mark helped forge.
Mark's wisdom lives on through a poignant email he wrote from Iraq about random acts of kindness, which became the philosophical backbone of the foundation's grant program. His legacy is further honored in the upcoming film "Way of the Warrior Kid," which features a main character named Mark Lee, introducing new generations to his story.
Debbie Lee channeled her profound grief into serving Gold Star families and veterans, witnessing countless individuals find renewed hope through the foundation's programs. Over time, she came to peace with her loss, recognizing that Mark's mission continues through the foundation's work. She no longer wishes to bring Mark back if it meant losing the good that has come from his sacrifice.
Debbie Lee describes the disorienting pain of losing Mark, initially questioning why she continued crying and why life hadn't returned to normal. After reading extensively about grief, she learned that losing a child is among the hardest losses to endure. Jocko Willink explains how grief seizes control of emotions, with intense waves that initially overpower all attempts at composure, but gradually dissipate over time as part of trauma processing.
Debbie uses the metaphor of walking along the ocean to describe grief's unpredictable surges. She notes that the numbness and indecision following Mark's funeral were forms of psychological protection—the mind cannot process loss all at once. Both speakers emphasize that after about a month, while emotions remain unpredictable, one can start choosing how to respond to the pain. Debbie stresses that recurring surges don't mean regression; grief shapes identity but doesn't have to define existence.
To move forward, Debbie established her "GPS"—gratitude, physical exercise, and service. Each morning, she identifies something to be grateful for, walks daily (eventually reaching five miles), and performs random acts of kindness for military families. She credits this combination with providing both psychological and physiological relief.
Both Debbie and Jocko found that writing and sharing their stories helped process grief. Despite initial terror at public speaking, Debbie pushed through by reflecting on Mark's sacrifice. Jocko describes how writing Mark's eulogy was agonizing, but repeatedly articulating emotions through writing created emotional detachment, allowing for problem-solving and new perspectives.
They agree that sharing transforms grief into a shared experience, breaking isolation and transferring some emotional burden to supportive listeners. The therapeutic value exists regardless of writing skill or audience—what matters is the act of expression itself.
Debbie and Jocko emphasize that words offer little comfort to the grieving, with phrases like "I understand" or "he's in a better place" often feeling hollow or offensive. Instead, the most valuable support is simply being present—bearing witness to pain and offering steadfast companionship. Jocko uses powerful metaphors to describe grief as a wild horse or big wave—friends cannot fix grief but can ride alongside, helping loved ones survive the emotional storm until its energy runs out.
America's Mighty Warriors, founded by Debbie Lee in 2008, provides comprehensive support to military service members, veterans, and their families through several key programs.
Inspired by Marc Lee's final letter encouraging acts of kindness, this program provides immediate emergency relief for military families facing hardship. Grants cover urgent needs including medical bills, funeral costs, home repairs, vehicle aid, and income replacement. Jocko recounts numerous examples: a SEAL in a car accident, a Green Beret battling cancer, and a Marine whose home flooded all received rapid assistance—often within hours. The foundation serves all branches and even first responders, with grants acting as lifelines that restore hope and remind recipients they're not alone.
For fifteen years, the foundation has hosted retreats at a 1,000-acre ranch in East Texas, recently expanding to North Creek Ranch in Nebraska. These gatherings provide healing and camaraderie for families who have lost loved ones in military service, with separate retreats for mothers, fathers, and couples recognizing how grief impacts each differently. In collaboration with the Gary Sinise Foundation, annual retreats bring together Gold Star parents, while initiatives like Snowball Express connect thousands of Gold Star children at Disney World.
This comprehensive program addresses TBI and PTSD through multi-modality treatment rather than symptom management. It integrates hyperbaric oxygen therapy (HBOT), personalized hormone and supplement therapy with Dr. LeMay at Trident Performance Medicine, nutritional support, and restorative retreats. Over 600 veterans have completed the yearlong program, reporting deeper sleep, better memory, improved emotional regulation, and overall greater quality of life. SPECT brain scans show visible healing, with participants sometimes reducing medications from over 50 prescriptions to just three.
Repeated blast exposure damages service members' brains like shaken baby syndrome, restricting oxygen and causing neural tissue death. HBOT delivers oxygen to damaged tissue, healing neural pathways rather than providing temporary relief. The protocol typically involves 40 sessions, with up to 60 for severe TBI. Comparative successes in the Israeli Defense Force, where all blast-exposed veterans receive HBOT, show substantially lower rates of PTSD and TBI than in the U.S.
America's Mighty Warriors is raising funds for a $7 million property in Arizona that will serve as a retreat and healing hub with on-site hyperbaric chambers. This facility will eliminate treatment barriers, allowing veterans to receive medical care and two HBOT dives daily while their families stay with them. With recreational amenities like hunting and fishing, the facility aims to dramatically increase the number of veterans and families the foundation can serve.
Mama Lee shares how enduring connections among veterans have saved lives, with "task unit bruiser boys" struggling with suicidal thoughts receiving life-saving support from fellow veterans. Jocko emphasizes that connectedness allows teammates to recognize when someone is struggling and offer support, sometimes with the simple phrase "You can quit tomorrow"—providing hope to persist another day. The Ramadi reunion celebrated not a single suicide among their ranks, a testament to the life-saving power of military brotherhood.
After Mark's death, his teammates embraced Debbie as "Mama Lee," with grief that matched her own. Over twenty years, she has witnessed Mark's brothers become husbands, fathers, and leaders, joining them in celebrating marriages and standing with them at funerals. This transcendent family persists through regular support and gathering, with duty and brotherhood extending well beyond the battlefield.
Reunions provide vital opportunities for veterans to reconnect and revalidate shared experiences. Laughter and stories flow easily, with jokes and memories returning as if no time has passed. These gatherings also connect family members to deployment stories, allowing spouses and children to put faces to names. For veterans, knowing they're not alone in their struggles is validating, reinforcing that no one who served does so in isolation.
Jocko describes the immense burden of service members whose deployments are cut short due to TBI from explosive blasts. He and Mama Lee discuss how repetitive blast waves disproportionately damage the frontal lobe—the seat of executive functioning, memory, and emotion—resulting in sleep difficulties, emotional volatility, and cognitive struggles. Mama Lee stresses these are severe physical injuries, not matters of personal weakness.
Willink compares TBI susceptibility to boxing legends Foreman and Ali, noting that individual biology, not willpower, dictates resilience. Both hosts reject expectations that service members "push through" symptoms or feel shame, stating there should be no more shame in brain injury than in a visibly severed limb. Mama Lee highlights how misdiagnosing TBI as purely psychological is dangerous, treating only symptoms and increasing suicide risk.
Unlike pharmaceuticals that mask symptoms, HBOT seeks to permanently heal damaged brain tissue by super-saturating it with oxygen under high pressure. Veterans report dramatic improvements, including their first full night's sleep in years, which boosts mood, memory, and emotion regulation. By addressing the injury at its source, HBOT helps break the cycle of medication dependence. SPECT scan research objectively documents restored neural pathways, providing evidence beyond self-reports.
Despite promising evidence, practical access has been limited. The VA's pilot study only referred five veterans in three years. Decision-makers dismissed research showing improvement as placebo, though Mama Lee counters that genuine improvement—regardless of mechanism—should be the measure of success.
Chronic combat stress drastically alters hormone chemistry, with veterans' cortisol spiking and [restricted term] crashing to levels seen in elderly men. Mama Lee details her organization's work with Dr. Kevin Lace to provide veterans personalized hormone analysis and supplement regimens. Restoring natural hormone levels repairs biochemical stress damage while HBOT heals structural brain damage, creating a comprehensive healing approach. Mama Lee praises the Defense Secretary's recent adoption of [restricted term] therapy in TBI and PTSD protocols, reporting "amazing results" from such comprehensive treatments.
1-Page Summary
Mark Lee was the first Navy SEAL killed in Iraq, taking his final breath on August 2, 2006. His loss was a turning point, not only for his family but for countless veterans and military families. Out of this tragedy, his mother, Debbie Lee—now known to many as "Mama Lee"—transformed her grief into compassionate action, founding America's Mighty Warriors Foundation. She did not initially intend to start a foundation, but found herself drawn into service as her support grew from one platoon to Task Unit Bruiser, SEAL Team Three, and soon, the wider military community.
Twenty years after Mark’s passing, his influence remains strong. On the two-decade anniversary of his death, a “Bruiser Reunion” in San Diego brought together over a hundred people—Task Unit Bruiser teammates and their families—demonstrating the brotherhood and enduring impact Mark helped to forge. These gatherings are marked by laughter, stories, hugs, and tears, with veterans reestablishing bonds and families celebrating the community created from shared sacrifice and adversity.
Mark’s legacy is also rooted in his wisdom and character. A poignant email he wrote from Iraq, discussing random acts of kindness, became the philosophical backbone of America's Mighty Warriors’ grant program. His call for empathy and generosity—whether paying for a stranger’s coffee, offering a smile, or opening a door—shapes the foundation’s approach to serving veterans, grieving families, and those in crisis. Mark’s story and values are kept alive even outside the foundation; the upcoming film "Way of the Warrior Kid" features a main character named Mark Lee. While the story isn’t a direct biography, the choice of name intentionally honors Mark’s legacy and leads new generations to discover who he was.
Debbie Lee faced heart-wrenching loss, describing the weight of grief that “steals your breath.” Yet, she found new purpose, channeling her love for her son into serving Gold Star families and military veterans. Her journey began supporting Mikey Monsour’s family after he too was killed, an experience Debbie calls “very fresh in the healing process.” From there, her support widened to encompass more families and units in need—a path she never planned, but grew into through faith and a determination to make things different for others enduring similar loss.
Her work with America’s Mighty Warriors has been immeasurably impactful. Debbie has witnessed veterans struggle with post-traumatic stress, traumatic brain injuries, and thoughts of suicide, only to find renewed hope and healing through the foundation’s programs. Gold Star families, drowning in loss, discover fellowship, comfort, and the knowledge that they are not alone. The foundation’s grant program—driven by Mark’s principle of kindness—has helped military families pay for emergency needs, medical bills, and funeral expenses. Debbie describes giving children a Build-A-Bear with their deployed father’s recorded message, offering solace and connection.
Over the years, the depth of Mark’s legacy has become clear. When reflecting on her loss, Debbie no longer wishes to bring Mark back if it meant losing the good that has come from his sacrifice. Though she feels his absence daily, she is at peace, convinced that Mark’s mission continues—both in heaven and through the foundation’s ongoing work for those still serving and their families. She draws strength from faith and counts serving in Mark’s name as among her greatest blessings. ...
Mark Lee's Legacy and Continuing Impact
Debbie Mama Lee recounts the overwhelming pain after the loss of her son Mark, comparing it to her earlier experience losing her husband. She initially writes in her journal, "what's wrong with me, why am I still crying, why have things not gone back to normal?"—a reflection of her confusion about the enduring intensity of grief. After reading numerous books about grief, she realizes that the death of a child is considered one of the hardest losses to endure. The pain she experiences is acute and disorienting.
Jocko Willink discusses how grief seizes control of emotions, even for adults accustomed to regulating their feelings. The immediate aftermath feels like a loss of agency; intense emotional waves overtake all attempts at composure, rendering people unable to talk or even function. He notes that while the emotional waves are initially overpowering, they begin to dissipate over time—this process is part of trauma processing.
Debbie describes this pattern with the metaphor of walking along the ocean: moments of calm can be suddenly interrupted by surges of overwhelming grief, but these are necessary and natural parts of the journey. She confides that after Mark’s funeral, the numbness and inability to make decisions or focus on herself were forms of psychological protection; the mind cannot process loss all at once. That protective numbness and indecision help carry people through the sharpest pains of acute grief.
Jocko adds that, in those first weeks, people often distract themselves with tasks or funeral arrangements to avoid facing the loss directly. Then, when distractions pause, grief floods in, forcing confrontation with reality. Both describe how the process eventually allows for choice: after a month or so, while emotions remain unpredictable, one can start to decide how to respond to the pain.
Debbie cautions not to let recurring surges of grief be mistaken for defeat or regression; such moments are normal and do not mean one is starting over. She affirms that grief shapes identity—it allows space for deep sadness, but this does not have to define a person’s existence. She consciously chooses not to withdraw into self-pity, recognizing pain but refusing to let it become the central element of her life.
To move forward, Debbie establishes simple routines: each morning, she identifies one thing to be grateful for before rising, which shifts her perspective for the day. She starts walking short distances, eventually progressing to five miles daily. She finds benefit in serving others—performing random acts of kindness, especially for military families on the anniversary of Mark’s death or birthday. For Debbie, this combination—gratitude, physical exercise, and service to others, which she calls her "GPS"—is crucial. She also credits exercise for providing physiological relief through endorphin release.
Debbie’s journey includes finding her voice and overcoming public speaking anxiety through sharing Mark’s story. Previously terrified of speaking before crowds—even at her preschool’s graduations—she is unexpectedly asked to speak at troop support rallies. The process terrifies her, but reflecting on Mark’s sacrifice helps her push through. Over time, repeated sharing desensitizes her to the pain, helping her process the loss while connecting with others.
Jocko describes a similar experience: writing Mark’s eulogy is agonizing, but by repeatedly articulating his emotions—through writing and sharing—he finds that the burden lightens. Writing, he notes, creates a form of emotional detachment. Seeing emotions on the page enables problem-solving, new perspectives, and understanding that is less accessible when feelings are kept inside.
Both agree that sharing their stories transfers some of the emotional burden to others, transforming grief into a shared experience that breaks isolation. This sharing fosters connections and allows others to feel and shoulder some of the pain. Debbie observes that her openness encourages support and hope in others who observe her journey, even those facing different ...
Grief, Loss, and Emotional Processing
America’s Mighty Warriors, founded by Debbie “Mama” Lee in 2008, honors the legacy of her son Marc Lee, the first Navy SEAL killed in Iraq, by providing vital support to military service members, veterans, and their families. The organization’s comprehensive programs center on rapid intervention, healing, and community, extending compassion and hope to those facing extraordinary challenges.
Inspired by Marc Lee’s final letter home, which encouraged others to engage in acts of kindness, the Random Acts of Kindness program provides immediate emergency relief for military families facing hardship. The foundation has issued grants to cover urgent needs such as medical bills, funeral costs, home repairs, vehicle aid, and income replacement for injured service members. For example, the organization helped a World War II POW’s family bring his remains home and paid for his funeral so his great-grandson could attend the service. Jocko Willink recounts numerous stories: a SEAL in a car accident received help with medical bills; a Green Beret Master Sergeant battling cancer was assisted with expenses; a SEAL’s family received aid after his mother’s passing; and a Marine whose home was flooded was supported with repairs.
Assistance is provided to service members from all branches, including Navy SEALs needing vehicles, retired Navy divers unable to pay their mortgages due to injury, and even first responders, such as a police officer needing rent support while out of work. The foundation’s rapid response—often within hours—offers immediate relief, restoring hope at a moment of crisis. Mama Lee and Jocko Willink emphasize that even seemingly small gestures—a paid cup of coffee, help at the grocery store—have the power to shift someone’s entire outlook, reminding them they are not alone. The grants act as a lifeline, a direct route to comfort and encouragement from strangers in the face of hardship.
America’s Mighty Warriors partners with ranches to host retreats that provide healing, camaraderie, and respite for Gold Star families—those who have lost loved ones in military service. For fifteen years, the foundation has used a 1,000-acre ranch owned by Fellowship Church in East Texas for these gatherings, and has recently expanded to North Creek Ranch in Nebraska. Retreats allow Gold Star mothers, fathers, and couples to connect separately, recognizing the distinct ways grief impacts family members. Peer support and shared experiences help families process their loss and forge lasting bonds.
In collaboration with the Gary Sinise Foundation, America’s Mighty Warriors holds annual retreats specifically for parents, and supports initiatives like the Snowball Express, which brings thousands of Gold Star children and their chaperones together at Disney World. These efforts ensure children and adults alike have opportunities for connection, healing, and understanding within supportive communities that deeply understand their unique experiences.
The Helping Heroes Heal program addresses traumatic brain injury (TBI) and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) with comprehensive, multi-modality care, moving beyond merely managing symptoms. The program integrates hyperbaric oxygen therapy (HBOT), personalized hormone and supplement therapy (coordinated with Dr. LeMay at Trident Performance Medicine), nutritional support, and restorative retreats. All military branches are served, although there is a special connection to the SEAL community.
More than 600 veterans have completed the yearlong program after failing to find relief with pharmaceutical approaches. Graduates report deeper sleep, better memory, improved emotional regulation, and overall greater quality of life. SPECT brain scans taken before and after treatment show visible healing—images previously resembling holes due to blast damage are measurably repaired. In some cases, participants have reduced their medication load from over 50 prescriptions to just three, reflecting the program’s effectiveness in addressing the root causes rather than just the symptoms or side effects.
Repeated exposure to blast waves from IEDs, breaching, and firearms can damage service members’ brains like shaken baby syndrome: the frontal lobe repeatedly hits the skull, restricting oxygen and causing ...
America's Mighty Warriors Foundation and Support Programs
Mama Lee describes how enduring bonds among veterans can be life-saving. She shares stories of “task unit bruiser boys” who, having struggled with suicidal thoughts, benefited deeply from the support and intervention of their fellow veterans—sometimes even when “the gun [was] laying on the table ready to take their life.” Enrollment in support programs and the simple act of staying connected saved several lives, demonstrating that peer understanding and intervention are uniquely effective. Jocko Willink emphasizes that connectedness among teammates allows them to recognize when another is struggling and to offer support, sometimes by simply saying, “You can quit tomorrow.” This phrase keeps struggling soldiers going, providing hope and encouragement to rest and persist another day.
Willink shares an example from Ranger School: when someone wanted to quit, a friend told him he could always quit the next day, helping him push through the toughest moments. In each Ranger School phase, the men repeated this support, understanding that military life is full of ups and downs—and that having buddies to lean on is crucial. When a group is large enough, someone will be able to lend a helping hand, and someone else will need it. Veterans who stay in touch, whether through social media or text messages, are more likely to have someone who recognizes when they are in a dark place and can help pull them out. The Ramadi reunion proved the value of these bonds: after years of war and hardship, these former teammates reunited and celebrated not a single suicide among their ranks, a testament to the life-saving power of military brotherhood and lasting connection forged through adversity.
The enduring nature of this connection is especially apparent in SEAL teams, where bonds go beyond mere friendship. Mama Lee recalls how, after her son Mark’s death, his teammates treated her as family, embracing her as “Mama Lee.” The grief they expressed matched her own, illustrating that shared hardship and loss forge a familial bond deeper than blood. Over twenty years, these relationships have matured; Mama Lee has witnessed Mark’s brothers become husbands, fathers, and leaders. She has joined them in celebrating marriages, promotions, and new births, and has stood with them at funerals and moments of loss. The military “family” of Task Unit Bruiser remains steadfast and supportive, gathering for reunions, carrying one another’s burdens, and maintaining long-held traditions and protocols.
Mark’s death in Ramadi united survivors in their shared grief and commitment to each other. Mama Lee describes how the adversity and loss her son’s brothers endured forged an unbreakable bond—one that she herself, by “God’s grace,” became a part of. This transcendent family persists: even now, the members of Task Unit Bruiser regularly support one another, their sense of duty and brotherhood extending well beyond the battlefield.
Brotherhood and Military Connection
Service members who experience repeated blast waves, such as those from IEDs and heavy weapons, suffer injuries fundamentally different from trauma seen in everyday civilian life. Jocko Willink describes the immense burden that soldiers carry when a deployment is cut short due to traumatic brain injury (TBI) from explosive blasts. He emphasizes the unnatural and damaging nature of cumulative concussive events in combat, observing that even in other dangerous contexts, such as boxing, this sort of repetitive injury is rare and debilitating.
Willink and Debbie Mama Lee discuss how repetitive blast waves disproportionately damage the frontal lobe—the seat of executive functioning, memory, emotion, and regulation. The result is often difficulty sleeping, emotional volatility, and cognitive struggles, sometimes fundamentally altering a person’s demeanor, as in the tragic example of Sarah Wilkinson's husband, Chad. Mama Lee stresses that these are severe physical injuries, not matters of personal weakness or shame.
Willink compares military TBI susceptibility to boxing legends George Foreman and Muhammad Ali, noting that while both endured years of head trauma, only Ali suffered severe, lasting effects. He observes similar variances among veterans—some withstand repeated blasts with minimal symptoms, while others are affected early—underscoring that individual biology, not willpower, dictates resilience.
Both hosts reject the expectation that service members “push through” after injury or feel shame about symptoms like confusion, memory trouble, or emotional disturbances. Willink states plainly: just as there is no shame in a visibly severed limb, there should be none in having a brain injured by repeated shocks.
Mama Lee highlights the danger of confusing TBI with purely psychological concerns, noting how misdiagnosis leads to treating only symptoms—instead of the underlying injury—and increases suicide risk. Many veterans are referred to talk therapy or exposure therapy that fails, and traditional medications often carry warnings of increased suicidality.
Debbie Mama Lee explains that unlike pharmaceutical approaches which only mask symptoms, hyperbaric oxygen therapy (HBOT) seeks to permanently heal damaged brain tissue by super-saturating it with oxygen.
HBOT delivers oxygen at high pressure, dramatically increasing the amount that reaches oxygen-starved brain regions impaired by blast exposure. This treatment targets the injury rather than symptoms.
Veterans report dramatic, lasting improvements after HBOT, including experiencing their first full night of sleep in years. This restoration of healthy sleep boosts mood, restores memory, and helps regulate emotions, supporting a more sustained and natural healing process.
By addressing the injury at its source, HBOT also helps break the vicious cycle of symptom-specific medication. Veterans previously trapped on opioids for pain—causing constipation, which led to more drugs for digestion, and then to stimulants to offset sedatives—find their reliance on these medications diminishes as underlying brain health improves.
HBOT’s healing effects have been substantiated with SPECT scan research, which objectively documents restored neural pathways in the brain, offering evidence far stronger than just subjective self-reports.
Mama Lee describes the common pharmaceutical cycle for veterans with TBI and PTSD: opioids for pain cause constipation, sleep medications are required, then stimulants are added to combat drowsiness, ending in a burden of side effects. Medications prescribed for PTSD even carry risks of suicidal tendencies. The underlying injuries remain unaddressed.
Healing Tbi and Ptsd Through Alternative Therapies
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