NASSAU, BAHAMAS – Up to this point, I had always been prayerful about when I would publicly say that during my military career, a Commander wrote on a promotion report attached to my name that “Able Seaman Miller should not be considered for promotion until an investigation into his nefarious nexuses could be done.” Michael Sweeting is his name, and to this day he pretends it was not him, his hand-picked favorites and even an uncle of mine, who tried to cast that cloud over my career without a scintilla of evidence. They never confronted me, never questioned me, yet still wrote those words. Ironically, I have even bought drinks for some of them with the same money they implied came from “nefarious nexuses.” As Puck said in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, “What fools these mortals be!”
I remain grateful that there was also a righteous Captain named Samuel “The Buck” Evans, who defended me, challenged that nonsense and ensured my promotion report was submitted in time for me to benefit. That experience taught me how dangerous “expert opinions” can become inside institutions where subordinates are often unheard. It is why I now urge Commodore Floyd Moxey not to become overly zealous in the matter involving Chief Petty Officer Eric Rolle. Most of us are strangers to him; therefore, what he knows about us is largely shaped by advisors. That is a slippery slope.
Now that I have cleansed myself, I can say this plainly: I am a righteous man, and because I am, I cannot remain silent about what is being done to my friend, Chief Petty Officer Eric Rolle. I joined the Royal Bahamas Defence Force in an era where we were taught to stand beside our friends and endure hardship without complaint. It was not an organization built for the pampered or privileged. It was built on persistence, sacrifice and the understanding that service was a lifestyle, not merely a salary.
No one embodies that standard more than Eric Rolle. That is why I stand with him.
I watched with disbelief as the same organization that created Eric suddenly seemed prepared to destroy him publicly. This is a man who has devoted more than twenty years of his life, body and soul to the Defence Force. He has served as a military diver, skill-at-arms instructor, dive course coordinator, range manager, coxswain, platoon leader, commando and Swim Bahamas chief instructor. Time after time, regardless of the danger or hardship, Eric delivered results. During migrant tragedies, hurricanes, maritime disasters and difficult operations, Eric operated. When others hesitated, Eric operated.
That is why I struggle to understand the severity of the punishment imposed on him. We are speaking about one of the most effective operators this institution has produced — a man trusted repeatedly when conditions were hardest. Suddenly, because of public uproar, he is treated as though his decades of sacrifice mean nothing.
Here is why I stand beside Eric: I do not believe he acted with malice, nor do I believe his actions violated the spirit of military training doctrine. Training is aggressive by nature. It is designed to test limits, build resilience and prepare people for realities the public often cannot fully appreciate. If the comparable civil allegation is assault under Section 20(1) of the Penal Code — unlawful force intended to cause harm, fear, pain or annoyance — then many instructors from earlier eras would equally stand accused. The uncomfortable truth is that military training has always been demanding because the stakes in military operations are life and death.
Those who built the Defence Force standard understood that. Men like Christopher Russell, Dereck Richardson, Luke Bethel, Marvin Newbold, Remone Storr, Oral Woods, Freddie Clarke, Pedro Rolle and Kenneth “Killer” Sands helped create a culture where weakness could cost lives. Their methods were tough because the mission demanded toughness. Eric learned under that system and eventually became one of its finest products.
What troubles me most is that the organization now appears eager to distance itself from the very kind of operator it spent decades creating. Eric did not suddenly invent this culture. He inherited it, mastered it and upheld it exactly as he understood the Commander’s Intent to be. Punishing him as though he alone created the system feels deeply unfair.
I also believe we have ignored another reality: prolonged operational service changes people. For two decades we demanded more from Eric physically, mentally and emotionally. We praised his toughness, relied on his instincts and celebrated his effectiveness. Yet at no point did anyone seriously ask whether we were adequately decompressing a man who continuously carried enormous operational burdens. Instead, once public pressure intensified, the institution appeared willing to sacrifice him for appearances.
That concerns me because shrinking standards create dangerous militaries. A military where people become afraid to act decisively is how weapons are lost, critical mistakes occur and lives are endangered. The standard Eric represents is not recklessness; it is commitment, confidence and operational readiness. He trained people to endure pressure because in real crises there are no comfortable alternatives.
Commodore Moxey, I respectfully ask you to hear Eric’s redress impartially and with mercy. I do not believe “assault” defines this man or his intentions. I believe he was earnestly trying to uphold the standard he believed the Defence Force expected from him. That should matter.
Please also recognize the human being beneath the uniform. Eric has given this institution the best years of his life. His rank and medals are not decorations to him; they represent identity, sacrifice and purpose. To strip those things away without considering the totality of his service risks breaking a man who has spent decades carrying the burdens others could not.
I still believe Commodore Floyd Moxey is a righteous man. I hope he uses this moment to prove it by showing fairness, wisdom and compassion. Most of all, I hope he remembers that Eric Rolle was not acting out of hatred for the institution, but out of loyalty to the standard he believed he was duty-bound to preserve.
The Defence Force must never forget the difference between correcting a man and destroying one. Today, Eric Rolle needs leadership, fairness and decompression — not abandonment. And as a friend, a former marine and a righteous man, I will stand beside him while he seeks it.
