From Military Life to App Developer: My Journey

From Military Life to App Developer: My Journey

March 18, 2025
Minimalist illustration of a military dog tag blending into a smartphone symbolizing career transition
Last updated: May 19, 2025

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From Barracks to the App Store: My Military to App Developer Journey

From Barracks to Berlin: The Unlikely Start

There’s a strange kind of clarity that creeps in when you hit rock bottom. I’ve felt it firsthand. My own turning point? Perched in a cramped Berlin apartment, scraping by on the last of my military savings, staring into a future that felt less like a plan and more like a giant question mark. My girlfriend’s patience was starting to fray, my bank account was on life support, and every morning I woke up with that old familiar dread—like hitting the snooze button on a life I hadn’t even begun.

But here’s the thing about the military: it drills stubbornness into you. When you’re out of options, all you can do is put one foot in front of the other and keep going. Giving up wasn’t in my DNA—no matter how tempting it was on some days. Somewhere between late-night self-pity and mindless scrolling, an idea hit me sideways: What if I tried making money selling iOS apps? The thought was as wild as it was desperate. My girlfriend looked at me like I’d lost my mind: “Do you even know how to write code?”

I didn’t. Not even close. But desperation is a hell of a motivator.

Looking back now, it’s almost surreal—the leap from regimented barracks life to hacking away at app code in Berlin. Everything about my old routine said, play it safe. Structure, discipline, checklists… not exactly the stuff of wild tech dreams. But that discomfort—that sense of being totally out of my depth—became fuel. Sometimes you don’t leap until you’re pushed.

And here’s something most veterans don’t realize: the skills you pick up in service run deeper than you think. Leadership, reliability, learning fast under pressure—these become reflexes. I remember another vet telling me, “If you can handle working hard in insane environments, everything after feels a bit easier.” Plus, for most of us, transitioning out isn’t some quick pivot—it’s months (or years) of planning and uncertainty. That mix of grit and foresight? It’s rocket fuel for career change.

Ever heard of the Transferable Skills Framework? Career counselors love to talk about it. Basically, it’s mapping what you’re already good at—adaptability, problem-solving on the fly, operational discipline—to brand new industries. Turns out, those are exactly what tech (and most fields) are hungry for.

The Power of Inspiration: One Story, One Decision

Change never happens in a vacuum. For me, the spark came from an obsession: a quirky puzzle game called Trainyard. I was hooked—searching forums for tips and tricks—when I stumbled onto a story that jolted me awake.

The game wasn’t built by some big-shot studio or faceless team. It was just one dad, quietly coding after work in his spare time.

He wasn’t flaunting sports cars or talking millions. He’d simply done well enough to quit his job and support his family. That hit me right in the gut. Up until then, I’d assumed apps were made by hoodie-clad geniuses in dark basements—certainly not regular people like me, ex-military with zero tech cred.

But here was living proof: one guy with a laptop changed his life—and made something cool along the way. That idea wouldn’t leave me alone. Could I build apps and maybe fund my travels? Or at least dig myself out of my rut?

For the first time, I let myself believe maybe I could figure it out too.

Behavioral science has a name for this: social proof. Seeing someone with your background break through makes your own goal feel suddenly real. Sometimes all it takes is seeing yourself reflected in someone else’s success.

These stories aren’t rare. Take Danny Thompson, a guy who went from frying chicken at a gas station to teaching himself to code and breaking into tech. His story, like so many others, is proof that where you start isn’t nearly as important as your willingness to start at all.

Starting from Scratch: Learning and Building with Limited Resources

Inspiration is great—but it’s only step one. The real test comes next: where do you even start when you know less about coding than you do about quantum physics? (And believe me, that was me.)

Instead of drowning in endless ‘how-to’ articles or waiting for a grand plan, I just acted. Step one: buy a MacBook—because apparently that’s non-negotiable for iOS development.

My budget was laughable. I managed to snag a battered MacBook off eBay that only worked while plugged in. If someone tripped over the cord (which happened more than once), poof—hours of unsaved work gone forever. Autosave? Never heard of it. Version control? Not even on my radar yet.

But here’s the truth most people miss: you don’t need perfect conditions to start—just enough to take the first step. Most people spend months waiting for things to line up before they move. In my experience? Real momentum only comes from doing—not waiting.

Back then, Udemy was barely a blip and coding blogs weren’t much help yet. So I turned to YouTube and found some guy walking through Objective-C basics. Within days, I managed to get a slider moving across the screen—when I dragged it with my finger, the numbers changed in real time.

Sounds tiny now, but in that moment? It was everything. Proof that I wasn’t completely lost at sea.

This isn’t just my story—it’s how startups work everywhere: build something simple (an MVP), learn from what breaks (and what works), and keep iterating forward. Those little early wins? They’re what keep your motivation alive when everything else feels overwhelming.

If you’re struggling to get momentum because you’re waiting for everything to be ready, consider this: launching early is often what actually creates clarity (and progress), not the other way around.

The First Launch: Lessons from an Unnoticed Debut

The rush of building my first app gave way to raw anxiety as launch day approached. After three months—thousands of lines of code mashed into a single monster function—I submitted my app to the App Store.

I told everyone who’d listen: friends, family, even acquaintances I barely knew. “My app is live!” For five minutes, I was riding high on anticipation and pride.

And then… nothing happened.

A handful of downloads trickled in (thanks Mom). The world didn’t pause; nobody cared that my app existed. The silence stung more than I’d expected.

Launching isn’t the finish line—it’s Day One. Building an app is tough enough; getting people to notice or use it? That’s another beast entirely.

Here’s where things shifted for me: launching isn’t the finish line—it’s Day One. Building an app is tough enough; getting people to notice or use it? That’s another beast entirely. It’s so easy to confuse “done” with “successful”—but real traction only comes through visibility and persistence.

The Lean Startup methodology calls this the ‘Build-Measure-Learn’ loop for a reason: ship something small, get feedback, and keep improving from there. Don’t skip this step—it’s where the real growth happens.

If you’re navigating setbacks or feeling like your efforts aren’t getting noticed yet, remember that even mistakes can become growth opportunities if you keep showing up and learning from them.

Visibility, Serendipity, and Opportunity

Let’s not sugarcoat it—it was discouraging at first. Pouring everything into something and getting silence in return can leave you questioning everything. But this is where things started getting interesting: because I’d put something out there—however rough—someone noticed.

Entrepreneur Jason Roberts calls this ‘luck surface area.’ The more visible your work is, the bigger target you make for opportunity to find you.

One day, out of nowhere, I got a message from a mortgage advisor looking for an amortization calculator for mobile—a rarity back then. He asked if I could build one (and offered to pay).

Did I have any clue how? Not really. But did I believe I could figure it out? Absolutely.

That unexpected twist changed everything. By simply showing up—by being visible—I opened doors I didn’t even know existed yet. Luck isn’t just random; it’s what happens when preparation meets opportunity.

If you want practical ideas for making your work stand out and attracting serendipity—even in less-than-ideal environments—here are 5 actionable ways to create growth wherever you work.

A conceptual image symbolizing transformation from military life to technology careers
Image Source: military-to-app-developer-journey-dc0215a1.jpg

From Military to App Developer: Key Takeaways for Your Journey

Looking back on this journey—from military life to app development—a few lessons stand out above the rest. Not just for veterans but for anyone standing at the edge of big change:

  • Start before you’re ready: Waiting for perfect conditions? That’s just procrastination in disguise. If all you’ve got is a half-broken laptop and shaky WiFi—use what you have anyway.
  • Embrace imperfection: Progress is messy by nature. My early code was clunky and my hardware unreliable—but none of that mattered nearly as much as showing up and taking action.
  • Find your early wins: Set goals you can actually reach soon and celebrate them—even if they seem tiny from the outside. Those small victories are fuel when everything else feels uncertain.
    If you find yourself overwhelmed by big goals, break them down into small moves that build momentum—sometimes that’s all it takes to get started.
  • Launching is just the beginning: Publishing your work isn’t “the end.” It’s where actual learning—and opportunity—start happening.
  • Stay visible: Even if your first project flops or goes unnoticed, putting yourself out there creates new possibilities you’ll never see from the sidelines.
    In fact, focusing on long-term visibility and career sustainability may matter more than pure productivity alone.

Here’s something else worth knowing: The Dunning-Kruger Effect is painfully real—the phenomenon where beginners doubt their progress even as they’re learning fast (more here). Just knowing this can help you push through early self-doubt when results are slow or imperfect.

Above all else? Curiosity and commitment matter more than credentials ever will—a truth echoed across industries and experience levels alike. As one cybersecurity leader put it: “A sense of curiosity is by far the primary job skill for the private sector.” Tech giants want people eager not just to master new technical skills but also understand how businesses actually use technology every day (see this discussion).

So if you’re reading this while contemplating your own leap—from military life or any other highly structured path—let this be both encouragement and blueprint for what’s possible. You might not feel ready; maybe your background doesn’t look like anyone else’s in tech. But here’s what I’ve learned firsthand: journeys worth taking rarely begin with certainty—they start with action.

Military veterans eyeing tech have more transferable skills than they realize: handling problems under pressure, adapting on the fly, working as part of a team, leading others—even running complicated gear—all these strengths cross over into software development (and beyond). Most importantly? That commitment and discipline drilled into you during service becomes your edge.

Your background isn’t baggage—it’s your foundation. Every new journey draws strength from where you’ve been before, and real transformation happens when you embrace those strengths instead of hiding them away.

Your background isn’t baggage—it’s your foundation. Every new journey draws strength from where you’ve been before, and real transformation happens when you embrace those strengths instead of hiding them away.

Take that first step—even if it feels small or uncertain right now. Your future self will thank you for daring to begin.

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