Mike Wilson: Marine Veteran Building Ukraine’s Cowboy Culture

Mike Wilson is a United States Marine Corps veteran, skilled tradesman, entrepreneur, and founder of the Association of Ukrainian Cowboys. After service as a body repair mechanic, he built businesses, raised five sons, and developed a lasting attachment to Ukraine. Since 2015, he has supported Ukrainians through marksmanship training, veterans’ engagement, ministry, and community-building, including Kyiv’s Western Saloon, a cultural project bringing American cowboy music, hospitality, and fellowship to wartime Ukraine with resilience and warmth.

Scott Douglas Jacobsen interviews Mike Wilson, a Marine veteran, skilled tradesman, father, Christian minister, and founder of the Association of Ukrainian Cowboys. Wilson reflects on Marine Corps training, family life, Montana business experience, and his deepening bond with Ukraine after 2006. The conversation traces his anger after Russia’s 2014 aggression, his marksmanship training for Ukrainians, and his vision for Kyiv’s Western Saloon as a place of culture, fellowship, music, healing, and resilience under wartime pressure.

Scott Douglas Jacobsen: You are a Marine and a veteran. We never say “were,” because once a Marine, always a Marine.

Mike Wilson: True. I am not on active duty, but I am a Marine through and through.

Jacobsen: I think once everyone has gone through basic training, they share that experience.

Wilson: You are going through the fire.

Jacobsen: I loved basic training. It was very fun. The administrative side, however, was complete mayhem.

It is mind-boggling, for sure. Let us take a step back. Why did you join the Marines? How long were you there? What was the emotional environment? What were the physical and cognitive demands?

Wilson: I am a musician. I was originally preparing to audition for “The President’s Own” United States Marine Band. That was my goal. I had an audition scheduled before the band commander, who was coming through at the time.

My mother was very sick then, and she died while I was in boot camp. Because she was so ill during the audition period, I canceled the audition and did not pursue that route.

I also loved auto body and paint work, as well as working on cars. So I asked the Marine Corps whether they had a program for auto body and paint. They said they did and gave me the MOS code 3513, Body Repair Mechanic. I said, “Yes, I can do that,” and they said, “Great.”

Of course, I had to go through boot camp first. As you know, every Marine receives basic infantry training before moving on to an MOS.

I went through boot camp and then attended school at Aberdeen Proving Ground in Maryland for welding, body repair, and painting. I aced it. My problem was that I hated studying, but I loved mechanical work. I loved working with my hands, so I naturally gravitated toward skilled labour.

I did very well in the school, and if I had slowed down, I could have developed my skills even further. But when you are 18 years old, you do not always think that way. You think, “This is easy. It is a breeze.” I finished the school in three months. I could have stayed for six months, but I completed it in three. Then I returned to California, where I grew up, in Los Angeles.

I was a reservist at first, so I did my weekend duty. After about a year, I was not finding much work, and I thought, “You know what? I loved the Corps anyway.” So I went from the reserves to active duty, and the Marine Corps treated me very well.

The Marine Corps gave me more than I could have imagined. They treated me extremely well, and I had no complaints.

Then I was asked if I wanted to go to Hawaii. I thought, “Hawaii? Sure, I will go to Hawaii.” I had already been stationed at what I considered one of the best duty stations in the Corps, Marine Corps Air Station El Toro in Southern California, and I figured Hawaii had to be even better. It was not necessarily better, but it was still a wonderful assignment.

I spent three years in Hawaii. Because of my MOS, I was the only Marine on the base performing that particular specialty. As a result, I did not have to pull many of the additional duties that others did. I was not assigned weekend details or field exercises in the mountains. I stayed with my unit and worked primarily in my shop, painting and repairing equipment. I painted every vehicle and every piece of equipment on the base.

For me, the Marine Corps was absolutely heaven. It was a very comfortable environment. I thrived in it. It suited me perfectly.

When I was asked to reenlist, my initial response was, “No, I am not going to reenlist.” Then I began to reconsider and thought, “Maybe reenlisting is a great idea. I like it here.”

As a Christian, however, I believed God might be able to use me more effectively somewhere else. Looking back, I realize He was already using me in the Marine Corps, but I was not putting those pieces together.

I had reached the rank of sergeant, although the promotion had not yet been pinned on me because I was close to leaving the service. I also was not fully aware of the situation. Had I known that I had effectively reached sergeant, I probably would have reenlisted without hesitation and finished my career.

Another influence on my decision was Okinawa. I knew that, as a single Marine, I would likely receive a one-year tour there, while married Marines generally served three-year tours. At the time, I was single. Everyone around me constantly complained, saying, “Okinawa is terrible,” and sharing negative stories. I do not know why those opinions affected me because I had never bought into that kind of negativity before. I genuinely loved the Marine Corps and had nothing to complain about. Still, I thought, “If I reenlist, I am guaranteed to go to Okinawa,” and that became one of the factors in my decision.

Another consideration was that I had secured a civilian job doing exactly what I had been doing in the Marine Corps, working as a contractor for the Army. I thought it would be a perfect transition.

After I got out, I reported to the company and said, “I am available and ready to start.” They told me there had been changes and that they no longer had a position for me. Suddenly, I found myself without a job.

So I simply moved on with life. About a year later, I got married, and then we started having children. One boy, then another, then another, and another.

Jacobsen: You have nothing but boys.

Wilson: I have all boys in America. They are from two different marriages. My first marriage did not work out, and later I remarried. Between the two marriages, I had five sons.

I ran my own businesses while raising my children. Eventually, I became a single father with all five boys in my care. Owning a business was a tremendous advantage because it gave me the flexibility and financial stability to raise them. If I needed to pick them up from school or take care of something during the day, I could adjust my schedule.

My oldest sons worked for me and often managed the jobs while I took care of the younger boys. If I was tied up, I would call and say, “Keoni, go pick up your brothers,” and he would do it. That was simply how our family worked, we always helped one another.

In 2006, I was introduced to Ukraine. I met a woman named Laysa, who was born in Kyiv and had recently moved to my town in Montana.

At the time, I had a severe lower back problem from years of construction work and heavy lifting. By the end of each work season, the pain was so intense that I could barely sleep. Laysa was a practitioner of natural medicine, and she began treating my back. Within three months, I was completely pain-free, and the problem never returned. Before that, I had been dealing with it for nearly two years.

We began dating and remained together on and off for about two years. We never lived together. Eventually, our lives took different directions. She pursued her medical career, while I remained focused on my family and children.

Even after the relationship ended, I had become deeply fascinated by Ukraine, its history, culture, and people. In many ways, I felt that Ukraine's history mirrored aspects of my own life. I had been severely bullied growing up and learned to survive by running fast.

Jacobsen: Like Forrest Gump.

Wilson: Exactly. As I studied Ukraine's history, the repeated invasions, occupations, and struggles for independence, I found myself identifying with that resilience. Laysa introduced me to the country, but learning its history is what truly made me fall in love with it.

I visited Ukraine before the full-scale war and spent time here after 2014 as well. I found it peaceful and welcoming. I fell in love with the culture, the people, and their kindness.

When Russia occupied Crimea and initiated its intervention in the Donbas in 2014, I believed the warning signs had been there and that the international response had been insufficient. Watching those events unfold deeply angered me.

Jacobsen: Thank you very much for the opportunity and your time, Mike.

Scott Douglas Jacobsen is a blogger on Vocal with more than 200 publications on the platform. He is the Founder and Publisher of In-Sight Publishing (ISBN: 978–1–0692343; 978–1–0673505) and Editor-in-Chief of In-Sight: Interviews (ISSN: 2369–6885). He writes for International Policy Digest (ISSN: 2332–9416), The Humanist (Print: ISSN, 0018–7399; Online: ISSN, 2163–3576), Basic Income Earth Network (UK Registered Charity 1177066), Humanist Perspectives (ISSN: 1719–6337), A Further Inquiry (SubStack), Vocal, Medium, The Good Men Project, The New Enlightenment Project, The Washington Outsider, rabble.ca, and other media. His bibliography index can be found via the Jacobsen Bank at In-Sight Publishing, comprising more than 10,000 articles, interviews, and republications across more than 200 outlets. He has served in national and international leadership roles within humanist and media organizations, held several academic fellowships, and currently serves on several boards. He is a member in good standing in numerous media organizations, including the Canadian Association of Journalists, PEN Canada (CRA: 88916 2541 RR0001), Reporters Without Borders (SIREN: 343 684 221/SIRET: 343 684 221 00041/EIN: 20–0708028), and others.