Many people have heard the adages to “put your life on the line” or to “die on that hill”, but very few of us have been in a position to say them literally. That is not true of those who have served in our military. To them a commitment was made to “make the ultimate sacrifice”, if need be, and today we celebrate and honor them for it.
When reflecting on today, I am compelled to consider my own evolution when considering military service. It will not be a completely flattering picture, but it will be an honest one. Now, feeling such admiration and gratitude for those who have made that choice, heeded that calling, I think honesty is the least I owe them.
I grew up in a particular kind of household. To the best of my recollection, we always held reverence for our soldiers, respect and skepticism of our military, and a fear of risking one’s own life for a cause you did not absolutely believe in.
It was a good, but secular household. We loved our country but didn’t’ trust “the man”. I knew (though I remember no specific conversation about it) that if there was a draft, then the smart thing would be to flee to Canada. Somehow the reverence and feeling of separation from those who did serve in the military never conflicted.
I remember how my mother would turn the news on every morning. It was Desert Storm, also known as the First Iraq War. My uncle, her brother, was in the navy. I don’t know if she explained it to me, but I knew she was looking at the names of casualties and seeing if he was on them. He never made it onto that list. The United States was very successful in that war, but I know that even as a little boy my mother was afraid of her brother dying in war.
My parents are boomers. I remember I thought they were hippies when I was growing up. They believed in peace and love, but they could be verbally pugilistic in any argument, having been raised in a time when a dispute was not something pushed by institutions of society. They were hard working, creative, assertive, kind, and funny people. They didn’t encourage fighting, but believed in standing up for what is right, even if everyone was against you.
The funny thing is I asked if they were hippies once. They laughed and said “No, we didn’t smell bad.” I know they were kidding, but I also get a sense that this was a perfect answer. They didn’t necessarily disagree with some of the principles of that era, but they held on to more of societies old standards as well. Some may be offended, but not me. They are some of the most generous, wonderful people I have ever known, and I am proud to be called their son.
I also remember Bosnia/ Kosovo. I was still very young, elementary school age. I remember there was a war far away. It was on the news. Then we bombed them. I know the reality was very different, but as a young boy, it seemed like this: They were killing each other and wouldn’t stop. Then we bombed them, and they stopped.
For the most part, from there on it seemed like there was peace. We were strong and no one would dare. At least not until September 11th, 2001. I have written about that before, and I will link the article here. Suffice it say after that, the prominent years of my childhood lived in peace, it would never be the same again.
I did not support the war in Iraq. I may be misremembering, but I don’t think I ever understood the connection to Afghanistan and Al Qaeda. At the time it seemed like an unjust war. If I am wrong about my initial feels it didn’t take long to go, there. I would even take part in an anti-war protest in the nearest city a year after it started. As a young man stopping traffic felt powerful. It’s the things we don’t appreciate enough about the protesters of ideologies today, protesting makes a young person feel righteous and powerful. A feeling no young adult eschews.
Growing up in a small town there were many people I knew who went into the service. Some of them shaped me somehow. Others did not.
One that ways on my mind now was when an acquaintance came back from Iraq. I don’t know if I’d call him disgruntled or disillusioned, but the way people treated him had made him bitter. If I remember his story correctly, he was one of the only people in a vehicle that survived an IUD attack. I cannot imagine what he was wrestling with, which is worse, because I’m sure he was trying to tell me.
He was upset. I remember in his distemper in a conversation at a local late night hang out spot. He told me with indication “I fought for my country” and I replied callously replied “No one asked you to”. A sentiment I could not bring myself to today.
Another person I knew was my friend and neighbor, Kyle. I didn’t want him to go join. I thought he would be killed. If I’m honest, it would have been his luck.
I didn’t think he knew what he was signing up for. I had known people didn’t really understand the rights they were signing away when they sign up, let alone the real possibility of death. For most of my friends it was really about the money and the direction. Kyle, in contrast, wanted to serve his country. I remember pleading with him about the realities. In the end Kyle said he understood, and he wanted to do it anyways. I had never known anyone who’d done that, and it would stay with me for some time.
Kyle did not die by the way. In fact, he has a lovely young family and a life he never would have had otherwise. Time heals all wounds, and he has done well with himself.
I would be skeptical for years to come. I thought it was crazy to die fighting some person you didn’t even know. Yet, to give up so much, to volunteer to be separated from the rest of us. To learn to do things that the rest of us would never have to do. It was something. It seemed crazy, but it was something.
I would learn much more over the years about our history and the history of the world. As I read and watched and listened my respect and reverence grew. I’d come to see there was such a thing as good and bad in the world. I’d learn that evil only stops when it is made to stop and that very few people are willing to step in. I’d learn both the stories of those who regretted their service, as well as those that were formed by it.
I remember a career soldier told me it wasn’t until he had to lead a unit that he began to learn about our constitution. He told me that he had to be able to explain to them what they were fighting for. The more he learned the greater his appreciation and conviction became
When you look down at the long course of history and realize that without soldiers, common soldiers, that none of it would be possible. That many soldiers across history do not stand firm and that others do against fatal odds. Once you realize that the world we live in only exists we are willing to die to protect it, then you have to re-evaluate how important a call to service is for us all.
We cannot be the place we are without the protection that surrounds us. Our soldiers cannot be the protection we need without the sacrifice that each must make. Today, Veteran’s Day, the least we can do is give them thanks.