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Book.1 EP. 03 Nurse or Soldier? Why Not Both?

 They call us “military nurses.” I call it a dual identity.


Most people know what a soldier is. Most people know what a nurse does.
But when I say I’m a military nurse—a commissioned officer who’s also a licensed nurse—it’s often easier to say I’m both.
And I mean fully both.

That duality is baked into the job. And perhaps, it’s that very duality that sparked my own desire to explore life beyond the traditional paths.

So, how do you become a military nurse?

There are two main routes:

1. Officer Training Program (OTS)
You graduate from a civilian nursing college, complete military training, and receive a commission.

2. Korea Armed Forces Nursing Academy (KAFNA)
You apply during your final year of high school, pass a series of exams (including a rigorous physical and mental screening), complete four intense years of education—including boot camp—and pass the national nursing exam to be commissioned.

On paper, Route 1 is shorter. But that doesn’t mean it’s easier. Promotions beyond First Lieutenant require competitive long-term service selection. Most long-term serving nurses are actually KAFNA graduates.

Route 2 (KAFNA) is longer and far tougher. Admission alone is grueling: academic exams, physical fitness tests, interviews, and your national university entrance scores all factor in. Even after acceptance, you have to survive four weeks of basic military training—four weeks that many candidates don’t finish. It’s physically and mentally brutal, especially for 18-year-old girls fresh out of high school.

But that’s just the beginning.
Once you officially enter KAFNA, you face not only academic pressure but full-on military discipline. Alcohol? Banned. Smoking? Forbidden. Even normal social behaviors are heavily restricted. You follow thick rulebooks to the letter, all while earning full credits in both nursing and military sciences, including fields like aviation, maritime, and disaster nursing.

There are no “real” summer or winter breaks—at most, four weeks. And in your final year, you must pass the national nurse licensing exam to officially graduate and become an officer. (And yes, many still drop out before then.)

Life after commissioning

As a Second Lieutenant, you’re randomly assigned to military hospitals. From Captain and up, you can choose specializations like ICU or ER, apply for deployments, study abroad, or even work in U.S. military hospitals or go to grad school.

Looking back, the KAFNA path was so grueling that, had I known everything, I might never have applied. And yet—I have no regrets.

Here’s why:

  1. I’ve done something few women have—served in the military.

  2. I became both a nurse and a soldier.

  3. I now have this irrational but empowering belief: “If you’ve handled grenades, you can handle anything.”

Even now, I unconsciously use military lingo in daily life—PX, full gear, fatigue zone. My husband always shushes me when I do, though I secretly think he’s kind of proud.

At past companies, I was often the only woman who could relate to the guys’ military stories—and they were always amazed. I look like a normal, quiet person. I’m petite, flexible in thought, and I like change. No one expects me to have “been there.” But that’s part of the charm—I break the mold.

A résumé like no other

My resume? Always stands out.
My job interviews? Full of real, raw stories from a life few have lived.
And my nursing license? That gave me options.

While the academy shaped the soldier in me, actual service pulled me closer to being a nurse. Yes, most of our patients are fellow service members, but you work alongside military doctors just like in civilian hospitals. You are a nurse—just with camo on.

Depending on where you’re stationed, you may treat anything from gunshot wounds to traumatic brain injuries, or spend days on your feet treating severe medical cases with no time for bathroom breaks. And if you’re sent to a frontline hospital, don’t forget: winter training as a military officer still applies.

Finding identity in duality

Until the day I left the service, I struggled with identity.
Was I really either of these things?
It wasn’t until after I left that I realized—the world doesn’t see me as a confusing in-between. It sees me as someone with double the skillset.

And now, I’m deeply grateful for this “double life.”
Not “neither here nor there”—but fully both.

To those preparing to join KAFNA, or currently enduring it:
I hope this gave you a glimpse into what’s ahead.
To all military nurses still serving today—thank you.
I see you. I respect you. And I salute you.

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