65. Escaping War, Becoming a Lioness, and Fighting Again at Home | Marine Corps CWO Ret.

Matt Simkins

In episode 65 of the Transition Drill Podcast, retired Marine Corps Chief Warrant Officer (CWO) Halima Blanton’s story is one of resilience, reinvention, and relentless determination. Escaping Afghanistan as a child during the Russian invasion, she and her family fled under the cover of night, endured months in a refugee camp, and eventually made it to California with nothing but survival instinct and grit. Growing up in a strict, traditional Muslim household, Halima faced cultural pressure and limitations, but quietly built strength through academics and sports. When her parents rejected a college scholarship on her behalf, she made the life-altering decision to enlist in the United States Marine Corps. That bold choice began a 22-year military career that saw her rise to the rank of Chief Warrant Officer, serve in the Lioness Program in Iraq, and recruit the next generation of Marines—all while balancing marriage, motherhood, and the heavy demands of military life. Her transition out of uniform wasn’t just professional—it meant supporting her husband, fellow Marine Rob Blanton, through his battle with PTSD and traumatic brain injury, all while navigating her own reintegration into civilian life. Today, Halima continues her service through her professional work and her volunteer leadership with Warfighter Made, the nonprofit she helps run with Rob that provides adaptive motorsports therapy to catastrophically injured veterans.

LISTEN

In the early 1980s, Halima fled Afghanistan under the cover of night with nothing but the clothes on her back and the hope her family carried. The Russian invasion had turned Kabul into a place of danger and uncertainty. For Halima, who was only five years old at the time, the weight of what was happening didn’t fully register—but the fear and confusion were real. Her family, like many others, was desperately trying to escape a war-torn homeland, dodging checkpoints, hiding in sand dunes, and praying that they wouldn’t be turned back. It would take months and the sacrifice of everything they owned to make it to a refugee camp in Pakistan. Conditions there were brutal—scarce food, unsanitary living conditions, and the haunting absence of family members taken or lost.

Eventually, her father, an English-speaking engineer who had once studied in the United States, and her mother, a schoolteacher, found a path to freedom. Halima and her family made it to America through the U.S. embassy, arriving in California and settling in Inglewood—just a stone’s throw from LAX. But the struggles didn’t end there. Her father went from being a respected engineer to a parking lot attendant. The seven members of her family lived in a one-bedroom apartment, where the single bathroom was shared and every dollar was saved toward a down payment on a home.

Growing up in Inglewood was its own form of survival. Halima didn’t fit into the dominant racial or cultural groups in the area, and being the daughter of devout Muslim immigrants meant her upbringing was conservative and extremely disciplined. Her mother made their clothes by hand. Hand-me-down shoes were a staple. Sleepovers, mall trips, and dating were off the table. Even makeup and haircuts were restricted until her late teens. Halima learned quickly that kindness was essential, because few people offered it freely.

Despite the strict household, she found freedom in athletics. She thrived in sports like cross country and volleyball, telling her parents she needed the outlet. In truth, it was her first quiet rebellion. Sports became her way of carving a space for herself, building strength—not just physically, but mentally. She pursued academics with intensity, taking AP courses and stacking her resume in hopes of earning a college scholarship. When she did earn a partial scholarship to the University of Hawaii, her family—without telling her—turned it down. The expectation was clear: college was encouraged, but only if she stayed close to home. Her role as the family helper was not negotiable. That decision changed everything.

The rejection of her scholarship, made without her consent, was the moment the ground shifted. It wasn’t just about college—it was about agency. Halima realized that if she didn’t start making her own decisions, her future would be shaped entirely by others. A life of arranged marriage and domestic service loomed, and she saw her path narrowing with every passing day. But she wasn’t ready to surrender to that fate. She wanted freedom, a purpose on her own terms, and a career that gave her a voice. It was then, walking home from a cross-country meet, that she made her way to a military recruitment office.

Halima walked into the Army recruiting office with her ASVAB scores in hand and hope quietly rising in her chest. She was 17, out of options, and fully committed to finding her own way forward. The Army recruiter gave her a sales pitch. So did the Navy. The Air Force recruiter wasn’t even in the office. Then she stepped into the Marine Corps recruiting station—and everything changed.

When she told the Marine recruiter what the other branches had offered, he looked her in the eye and said, “We don’t give you anything. You earn it.” It wasn’t a pitch. It was a challenge—and exactly what she needed to hear. In that moment, Halima Blanton decided she would become a Marine.

Her parents were furious. Her mother brought a meat cleaver to the signing table. The family tried to stop her—uncles, aunts, cousins, all voicing their disapproval. But there was one exception: her grandfather, who saw her fire and told her to do what she felt was right. “This life of being a devoted wife in an arranged marriage,” he told her, “isn’t for you.” That quiet support was the final push she needed.

In 1991, she shipped off to Marine Corps boot camp. What was supposed to be a four-year plan—earn the GI Bill, get an education, and move on—turned into 22 years of active service. Boot camp was an awakening. The physical grind, the discipline, the transformation—it all hit hard. One moment on the confidence course, after a hard fall from the “Stairway to Heaven,” she lay winded, the breath knocked from her body, contemplating her choice. But quitting wasn’t in her.

Halima’s career in the Marine Corps was defined by resilience, growth, and an unrelenting work ethic. She became a signals intelligence analyst, a field requiring precision and mental discipline. She excelled. Along the way, she met her future husband, Rob Blanton, also a Marine (Episode ), and the two built not just a relationship, but a lifelong partnership forged in shared service.

Her journey through the ranks was not typical, especially for a woman of color and immigrant background in the U.S. military. But Halima made her own path, eventually becoming a Chief Warrant Officer, one of the few women—and even fewer Afghan-born Marines—to do so. She also served in the Lioness Program, a groundbreaking initiative that embedded female Marines with infantry units in Iraq and Afghanistan. The program aimed to build trust with local women in cultural contexts where male Marines couldn’t engage, making these female warriors vital to mission success. Her time with the Lioness teams placed her on the frontlines of both cultural diplomacy and combat-zone intensity.

She also served as a Marine recruiter—by her own grit. While stationed in Okinawa, she heard that recruiting assignments were open but competitive. A fellow Marine mentioned interviews with the San Diego Sergeant Major. Halima didn’t have an appointment, but that didn’t stop her. She threw on her uniform, raced across town, and waited hours just to plead her case. She got the job.

It wasn’t just about career moves—it was always about family. Every decision was made with her husband and children in mind. She turned down promotions and assignments to keep their family together, sacrificing personal advancement to minimize upheaval in their lives. Her recruiting tour brought her back to Southern California, where she could raise her children near extended family and provide a more stable life than she had ever known as a child.

Even as she built a decorated career, Halima never stopped fighting to hold on to who she was. She was a Marine, yes—but also a mother, a wife, and someone with deep roots in a past many couldn’t begin to understand. Her experience as a military veteran, especially as a woman in a male-dominated branch, gave her a unique lens on what it meant to serve. She saw the costs. She saw the resilience it demanded. And she felt the pull of identity, always straddling two worlds: the Afghan daughter raised in tradition, and the American Marine determined to write her own story.

But even the strongest warriors must eventually decide when to put down the sword.

As her career stretched into its third decade, deployments stacked up, and her children grew older, Halima began to sense that her time in uniform was nearing its close.

WATCH

Retirement from the Marine Corps wasn’t a sudden decision—it was a culmination of years spent balancing family, service, and sacrifice. Halima had spent over two decades in uniform, often making career decisions based not on ambition but on the wellbeing of her children and her husband, Rob, a fellow Marine. By the time she reached the 22-year mark, the family had moved more times than they could count, endured long stretches apart, and carried the invisible weight that military service presses on a household.

For Halima, life after service came into view not as an escape, but as a long-awaited opportunity to invest in her family in ways that military demands had made difficult. Their daughter was entering her senior year of high school, and Halima was adamant: they were not going to uproot her during that critical season. She herself had been moved during her senior year and remembered the disorientation and loneliness. She wouldn’t let her daughter experience the same. Rob was being asked to deploy unaccompanied again, and it was the final straw. They made the joint decision—he would retire, too.

But leaving the military didn’t mean leaving the challenges behind.

As Halima began to explore her veteran transition, she also found herself navigating a new, more personal battlefield: helping her husband through his own war at home. Rob, now retired from the Marine Corps, was showing signs of severe post-traumatic stress and the effects of a traumatic brain injury. He became more isolated, short-tempered, and forgetful. Their once tight-knit family dynamic had shifted. The house was silent. Meals were no longer shared. Conversations were strained or avoided entirely. Their children retreated to their own corners, and Rob drifted further into his own mind.

Halima had been gone for seven months on deployment when she returned to this reality. She had walked back into a house she barely recognized—not because it was new, but because the people inside it had changed. Her attempts to reconnect met resistance. The distance wasn’t physical—it was emotional. She knew something was wrong, but like many military spouses, she didn’t know exactly what she was looking for. There was no textbook for this kind of trauma. Rob's struggle was invisible to the outside world but fully consuming inside their home. He had become increasingly disconnected, sometimes triggered by minor events, and visibly worn down. His patience was thin. His fuse, shorter than ever.

Then came the night when she found him in a dream-triggered panic. Instead of pulling away, she put her hand on his shoulder and said, “I’ve got you.” That simple moment—an anchor in the middle of emotional chaos—marked a turning point. For Rob, it was the realization that he didn’t have to fight alone. For Halima, it was the acknowledgment that transition isn’t just about a change in job titles or uniforms. It’s about re-learning how to show up for the people we love, even when we don’t know exactly how. The experience left a lasting impression—not just as a military veteran, but as a woman who stood at the front lines of her husband’s pain. As someone who’d spent a lifetime navigating change, from escaping a war to surviving boot camp, to raising children in between deployments, Halima knew endurance. But this was different. This was personal.

It’s a story many military veterans and their families don’t openly discuss—the emotional aftermath that follows the end of a military career. For Halima, the transition wasn’t just professional. It was deeply emotional and relational. She wasn’t just stepping into civilian life—she was trying to help rebuild a life that had been quietly unraveling.

Today, Halima Blanton continues to serve—but not with a rifle or a rank. Instead, she serves by building community, restoring confidence, and giving purpose back to those who often feel forgotten after leaving the military. She’s traded in her uniform for a different mission—supporting her husband, Rob Blanton, in running their nonprofit, Warfighter Made, an organization dedicated to helping injured veterans rediscover life after service through adrenaline therapy.

Warfighter Made focuses on building customized off-road vehicles for veterans who’ve suffered catastrophic injuries. These adapted vehicles allow wounded Marines, Soldiers, Sailors, and Airmen to experience the thrill of racing across the desert—giving them a rare and powerful feeling of freedom and control. For many, it’s the first time they’ve felt truly alive since their transition out of the military.

Halima volunteers her time at the nonprofit whenever she can. Though she works full-time in sales for a construction company—a job she secured through sheer charisma and drive during a chance encounter at a veteran-focused event—her heart remains with Warfighter Made. Whether she’s helping organize events, coordinating outreach, or simply offering encouragement to those walking through the doors for the first time, Halima brings with her the weight of experience and the warmth of genuine empathy. She understands what it means to wear the uniform, and she understands the void many military veterans feel once they take it off.

Her path from Marine to mentor didn’t come with a roadmap. After her military transition, she tried her hand at being a private investigator, leveraging the investigative skills she’d honed during her time in uniform. But the job—often focused on workers' compensation fraud cases—left her disillusioned. The emotional toll began to rise, and her health paid the price. Halima pivoted again, earned her MBA, and found a civilian career where her leadership and communication skills could thrive.

But it’s through Warfighter Made that her purpose shines brightest. She didn’t just marry a Marine—she built a life with one. She didn't just transition from the military—she helped her husband survive the darkest hours of his own. And now, together, they give back to those navigating the same uncertain road.

She has no desire to take the spotlight. In her words, she’s not the face of Warfighter Made—Rob is. But make no mistake: her fingerprints are on every inch of its impact. Whether she’s standing beside a triple amputee veteran before they speed across the sand, or talking with a struggling spouse about how to hold a family together through the storm, Halima brings lived wisdom and unshakable resolve.

This is what life after service can look like: not a fading into the background, but a reimagining of what it means to lead, to give, and to serve. For many military veterans, the challenge isn’t just finding a job—it’s finding meaning. Halima found it by doubling down on what the Marine Corps taught her: mission focus, accountability, and community.

Her story is a reminder to every veteran, every Marine, and every family member navigating the uncertain terrain of transition. You can start over. You can keep serving. And you can turn even the hardest chapters into the foundation for something greater.

The go-to podcast for military veterans, police officers, firefighters, EMTs, and first responders preparing for life after service. Hosted by Paul Pantani—a retired law enforcement leader with 30+ years of experience—Transition Drill features candid conversations with veterans from every military branch, as well as law enforcement professionals navigating career change, retirement, and the transition to civilian life. Guests share stories of mental health, post-traumatic growth, job search strategies, and what it really takes to succeed after the uniform. Whether you're transitioning from policing, firefighting, or military service, this podcast will help you lead the next chapter with clarity and confidence.

CONNECT WITH HALIMA BLANTON

EMAIL

Warfighter Made

VIEW OUR MOST RECENT

BACK TO TOP