HeyJaredBree Fram
Bree Fram is a retired Space Force colonel and former congressional candidate. She writes about politics, culture, leadership, and the dreams of an America that is better tomorrow than it is today.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 12
- Latest publication
- Sep 25, 2026
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- Jul 4, 2026
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My 10th Grade English Teacher Was Half Right (opens the original)
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So, apparently I’m a writer. Perhaps I should thank my 10th grade English teacher who told me that I, “write a lot of bullshit.” I’m pretty sure it was the first time I heard a teacher swear, certainly directly to me. Importantly, he followed it with, “But I can teach you to write good bullshit.”I guess that makes this “Welcome to (Good?) Bullshit!”Still, I never would have thought I’d be a writer someday. Now with a bunch of op-eds, three books done, and having just contracted with an agent for
So, there I was... (opens the original)
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So, there I was, a lieutenant deployed to the desert…But let me back up, because that’s not where this story begins or why I’m telling it from a hotel bar in Kyiv. Wooden tables, low lights, an opulent staircase behind the stage that is not a stage. As the performance started, a member of the hotel staff locked the piano. Quickly. So, another member of my convoy brought out a guitar. Songs, serious and whimsical, were shared. Ukrainian and American anthems sung. It was August 27th, <a href="http
Hold the Door (opens the original)
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Five years ago, on the tenth anniversary of the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell repeal, I posted two photos and wrote: “I’m ever grateful to the heroes that kicked the door open. We have to keep paying it forward and go kick open more doors.”I still mean it. I just didn’t expect to be writing the next anniversary post from this side of the door.<a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!zzfI!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-pos
Help Ukraine Win (opens the original)
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I’ve been writing about my trip to Ukraine and how it affected me. We arrived on Independence Day. This moment in Lviv, defying the Russian threat to gather in solidarity and sing the national anthem, moved me deeply. My hand went to my heart with them. Later that evening, just after a crowd of teenagers on scooters waving the flag and honking their horns went by, I turned a corner and saw a scene I will never forget.
Mostly Sunny, With Scattered Drones (opens the original)
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Just before midnight on August 27, the air raid alarm whooped from my phone the moment before I heard the anti-aircraft fire. The machine guns rattled, one long burst then another. It was hard to tell if the fire was coming from the ground or from the F-16 overhead. Then... thuuummmmp. Something hitting the ground. And again. Guns. Thump.A few minutes later, my phone chirped again. “Attention: The air alert is over. May the force be with you.” I was confused the first time I heard that, wonderin
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