MARINE CORPS veteran Colton Henley stepped onto the plane to boot camp with nothing but hope, bravery, and the dream of changing the world. Leaving behind the familiarity of Franklin County, he carried with him the courage born long before the Corps, in battles no one saw. He didn’t know exactly what the path would hold, but he was certain it would change his life and his family’s future.
“What really motivated me to join the Marine Corps,” he said, “was wanting to get out of Tennessee for a while and do something that could make a difference in not only my life but other people’s lives.”
Resilience wasn’t something Henley had to learn — it was something he al- ready carried. Hardship walked beside him for much of his youth, but never once led the way. It did, in fact, help him see clearly: he would one day leave Tennessee, serve his country, and live purposefully. Joining the Marine Corps was something he both wanted and needed to do.
Henley found purpose in the routines, structures, and challenges of Marine life. As an infantry mortarman, he spent much of his time training to operate one of the military’s most powerful indirect fire weapons.
Training days felt surreal — like he had walked straight into a film. Explosions shook the ground beneath his boots, fired with a force that left his bones buzzing. It was loud, gritty, chaotic, and electrifying. Mortars roared from their tubes with a chest-thumping boom, their trail slicing through the sky before vanishing into the horizon.
For Henley, this was a dream come true. A childhood filled with struggle and survival had morphed into a reality that, at times, felt almost cinematic.
“We were always going to the range,” he remembered vividly. “Shooting rocket launchers, mortars, explosions — it was like the stuff you see in the movies, and you’re sitting there doing it in real life.”
But dreams, even the most deliberate ones, can take unexpected turns.

While stationed in Hawaii, a training accident flipped his Humvee, leaving Henley with a traumatic brain injury. The injury meant he could no longer pursue advanced training. The career path he’d envisioned within the Marines suddenly vanished.
“After I got that brain damage while in the military, it ruined my chances,” he said.
Despite the setback, he pressed forward. The Marines transferred him to Quantico, Virginia, where he began training as a combat instructor.
“I was in a weapons company, but medically they wouldn’t allow me to do what I originally thought I was going to be doing.”
In February 2024, Henley left the Marine Corps — his uniform neatly folded, his mind heavy as he grappled with complex decisions. Depressed and uncertain, he stared down a new battlefield — civilian life.
But Henley didn’t stay down for long.
While in Virginia, he started pressure washing in his spare time, gradually building a foundation for what would become Semper Softwash, his own power-washing company now servicing all of Middle Tennessee. By February 2025, he was a full-time business owner, once again finding discipline, purpose, and momentum through hard work.
Though his days in uniform are behind him, the core values remain: loyalty, determination, and service. The comradeship of his Marine brothers and sisters still grounds him today.
Henley plans to continue building his business while encouraging other young people who feel like they’re facing the impossible.
His advice for future service members is, “Find a job in the military that can trans- late to civilian life. That way, when you get out, you already have the training and certifications you need — and no student debt.”
Henley may no longer wear the uniform, but he continues to serve in his own way — leading by example, turning pain into purpose, and proving that a new mission can be just as meaningful as the first. GN