I will graciously accept “Thank you for your service.” But it seems a tad trite and gives me pause. I’d much prefer you welcome me—and every other veteran—home, and live a life dedicated to justice, dignity and equal opportunity year round. That would make my day.
I have a favorite shirt custom embroidered in Vietnam. It is colorfully stitched with the name of my Americal Division unit, a map showing the town of Chu Lai where I was stationed in 1970, and adorned with a yellow dragon, the Vietnamese symbol for strength and progress. Whenever I wear it outside, it inevitably provokes the old saw: “Thank you for your service.”
“You’re welcome,” I robotically respond before adding, “and thank you for your support.” This dialogue plays out regularly for me and thousands of other military veterans —in person, by email, text, and through social media—not to mention every November on Veterans Day, on Vietnam Veterans’ Day in March, and today, Memorial Day.
Frankly, I don’t know exactly what to make of the phrase. A military tour in Vietnam—or pick your favorite war, we’ve got plenty to choose from—means something different to every veteran. I was drafted, served for two years, then was fortunate enough to resume my civilian life. But not everyone had such a soft landing. Some vets are haunted by debilitating depression and anxiety, tormented by Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Male and female veterans’ suicide rates are significantly higher than the national average. Many Vietnam vets suffer chronic consequences from exposure to Agent Orange, the toxic defoliant that the U.S. sprayed across the Vietnamese countryside. Too many of the 350,000 Vietnam veterans awarded Purple Hearts remain forever broken in spirit as well as body. What does “thank you for your service” mean to them? And, of course, how do you thank the dead?
War leaves some veterans with injuries you can see and others with convictions impossible to ignore. But the job of defending American values—for all—continues every day, right here, within our borders, in our hometowns, among our neighbors, friends and families. Bowing our heads on Veterans Day or Memorial Day doesn’t matter nearly as much as how we live the rest of the year.
By all means, let’s all pay homage today to our military veterans—living and dead. To truly honor the fallen—and acknowledge the sorrow, tragedy and pain their family and friends live with every day—we should devote as much energy to justice, dignity, and opportunity at home as we do to preparing for the next war abroad.
So thank me for my service today, if you like. I will accept this old chestnut with as much grace as I can muster on behalf of all my brother and sister vets; those who made it home and those who did not—and for those who still bear the scars of past wars, and for those who fight today and will hopefully be fortunate enough to survive to see tomorrow.
When I say back to you “thanks for your support,” know that, silently, I’m hoping we each do everything possible to figure out ways to stop doing this warfare thing. That would be ideal service.
What, then, should you say to a veteran?
Try “Welcome home.” Then let me know if that doesn’t make their day. I know it would make mine.
This essay was published simultaneously on BoomerMagazine.com