For many of us, they are the men and, sometimes women, holding our flag in a picture taken in a distant land. Dressed in BDUs (battle dress uniforms); full Kevlar, boots laced tightly, M-16 at their side, Oakley’s on their faces, and a tank somewhere in the background. I can shut my eyes and see any number of those pictures. Sometimes they are posted on Facebook, and they go viral. We all click “like”, share them, and salute them. We call them heroes, wear yellow ribbons, even pray for them as they deploy; as they return, as what is left comes home. They are soldiers. They are our soldiers and, as they come back different from the men they were when they shipped out, they are greeted with the amazing profundity of duty, family, and country.
We can always find a soldier when we need one, one to fight a war, to talk about service and country, to discuss the current gun debate. We wax poetic and sanctimoniously talk about what it means to be part of our military. They are the first thing we think of when we say “hero” and they are, heroes that is. Not for killing or war or sacrifice alone, but for doing what I cannot and having the courage to come home when so many of their friends will not when it’s over.
It is hard for me to imagine what it would be like to know that I had served that I defended, even killed in the name of a country where I cannot get not just a decent one, but any job. For many of our Veterans, that’s not something that they have to imagine. Where I live, there are men and women everywhere you turn in BDU’s and class A’s. We salute them, thank them, and appreciate their service. However, I’m jarred by the stark reality of what life is for too many of our Vets when they return stateside. Is all that gratitude just lip service? Can we say that we are a country committed to our Veterans when thousands are jobless, homeless and or in need of serious care and we neglect them?
I had the nerve to ask that question. Not as a Veteran, not even on behalf of Veterans, but, rather in the human ability to empathize. For lots of Americans how we treat Veterans is an issue of sympathy. For me, it is not nearly that easy. My husband left the service exactly 7 months before the United States declared war in the Middle East. 7 months and I would have been one of thousands of spouses relying on God, Government and, my husband’s fellow soldiers, to bring him home alive or bring home his dog tags and a folded flag.
Knowing the values of our Servicemen and Women, knowing that they are the thankless arbiters of the invaluable commodity of freedom, I know that sharing their stories with me was both an act of trust and humility. It is not easy to be a hero and be perceived as asking for help. I was not expecting the number of emails I received. By the third, I was entirely in tears. I know their point was not pity and be assured it wasn’t pity that I felt. It was gratitude. The immense boundless thankfulness for what they have sacrificed, what their families have sacrificed. Though we have all seen the pictures, pictures do not tell their stories. Only they can do that and, they did, tell them, to me.
One sentence in one of the first emails I read struck me. “I don’t ask for sympathy because other Vets have it way worse.” Thoughts like that are common amongst Veterans. The inability to put themselves first, it’s always about someone else, it’s shocking how clear that is for them, how difficult it seems to be for us, our Congress, our leadership. He went on to say that he “didn’t want a free pass because he is a Vet….” As if asking for a free pass would be unconscionable, the audacity of him expecting something in return for what he gave. The level of self sacrifice is inspiring.
He gave 7 years of his life including 2 combat tours in Iraq. He has 2 collapsed tendons in his ankles, and 2 degenerated discs in his back. He jumps every time he hears an explosion and has PTSD. He simply asks that his benefits go through in a timely manner and for a VA hospital that is in better shape. He spoke little of the children he left behind when he deployed, or the wife he divorced. I understand why he did not, the war cost him his family. He would never say those words. I did. I wish that story was unique. It is not. There were over a half a dozen just like his in my Inbox.
There was one of a former Marine. His small family lives in Canada now, not by choice, but, because after his 4 years and 2 tours he couldn’t get a job anywhere, not Target, not Home Depot, not anywhere. Through frustration and depression he muddled his way through part time gigs that didn’t cover the bills. A 22 year old kid who once had an offer to the Secret Service, now scrapes by, anyway he knows how as a 31 year old man. Using the forged work ethic that our military embodies, that does whatever can be done to feed a beautiful baby girl and the girlfriend he loves. All he wants is the stability of being able to provide for his family and the pride of a consistent paycheck for a hard day’s work.
There was a time when this country knew that its middle class was founded on the backs of soldiers coming home. After WWII, the nation collectively joined the war effort. Soldiers came home to jobs and a GI Bill that gave them the opportunity to have their piece of the American dream. An America that believed in the Boys, in uniform, and had the growth rate and jobs numbers to prove it. It was a time when America still built things other than partisan rancor. A time when there would not have been hesitation in passing a Veterans’ jobs bill. A time when no one would call for defense spending cuts that would hurt the soldiers first. It was a time when taking care of each other was still the noblest of our values. For Servicemen and Women transitioning back into civilian roles, family and meaningful work are two of the most integral factors in their success.
The product of compassion and investment in our Veterans is a healthier nation, economy and society. Stories of Veterans coming home to fight to have a job, buy a home, get the care they deserve should collectively sicken us. There should not be partisanship when it comes to our Veterans; it is an insult to their service. We cannot in good conscious respond to their basic needs with political jockeying and contrived rhetoric.
The inauguration of our President is a celebration of democracy and, as we watch, understand the right to choose our own government, to complain about how it functions or whether or not it upholds our individual values were secured by the lives of countless soldiers. Soldiers who pledged their lives to ensure you the right to live yours. Next time you say thank you to a Veteran, or salute one, remember that there are no words that will every describe in accuracy what we are grateful for because we will never know the true scope of what we have asked of them. Know that the only way to say thank you for what they have done, is what we are willing to do for them when they return. The fact is simply that we can never repay what they have given. It can only be measured by our willingness to secure for them the benefits which they overwhelmingly deserve.
To every Serviceperson, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for all you have done, especially affording us all the opportunity to know freedom.
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