There was recent discussions of who was a vet and who was not. I offer you this.
WHAT IS A VET?
Some veterans bear visible signs of their service: a missing limb, a
jagged scar, a certain look in their eye.
Others may carry the evidence inside them: a pin holding a bone
together, a piece of shrapnel in the leg - or perhaps another sort of inner steel:
a soul forged in the refinery of adversity.
Except in parades, however, the men and women who have kept America
safe wear no badge or emblem. You can't tell a vet just by looking.
What is a vet?
He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia
sweating two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers
didn't run out of fuel.
He is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose
overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the
cosmic scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel.
She - or he - is the nurse who fought against futility and went to
sleep sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang.
He is the POW who went away one person and came back another -or-
didn't come back at all.
He is the Quantico drill instructor that has never seen combat - but
has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and
gang members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs.
He is the parade - riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and
medals with a prosthetic hand.
He is the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals
pass him by.
He is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose
presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the
memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with
them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep.
He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket - palsied now
and aggravatingly slow - who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and
who wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him
when the nightmares come.
He is an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being, a person who
offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his
country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to
sacrifice theirs.
He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he
is nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the
finest, greatest nation ever known.
So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country,
just lean over and say Thank You. That's all most people need, and in
most cases it will mean more than any medals they could have been
awarded or were awarded.
Two little words that mean a lot, ''THANK YOU''.
Remember, November 11th is Veterans Day.
One fine man probably summarized it best...
''It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us freedom of the
press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us freedom of
speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who has given us
the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier, who salutes the flag,
who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag,
who allows the protester to burn the flag.''
Father Denis Edward O'Brien, USMC
WHAT IS A VET?
Some veterans bear visible signs of their service: a missing limb, a
jagged scar, a certain look in their eye.
Others may carry the evidence inside them: a pin holding a bone
together, a piece of shrapnel in the leg - or perhaps another sort of inner steel:
a soul forged in the refinery of adversity.
Except in parades, however, the men and women who have kept America
safe wear no badge or emblem. You can't tell a vet just by looking.
What is a vet?
He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia
sweating two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers
didn't run out of fuel.
He is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose
overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the
cosmic scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel.
She - or he - is the nurse who fought against futility and went to
sleep sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang.
He is the POW who went away one person and came back another -or-
didn't come back at all.
He is the Quantico drill instructor that has never seen combat - but
has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and
gang members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs.
He is the parade - riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and
medals with a prosthetic hand.
He is the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals
pass him by.
He is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose
presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the
memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with
them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep.
He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket - palsied now
and aggravatingly slow - who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and
who wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him
when the nightmares come.
He is an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being, a person who
offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his
country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to
sacrifice theirs.
He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he
is nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the
finest, greatest nation ever known.
So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country,
just lean over and say Thank You. That's all most people need, and in
most cases it will mean more than any medals they could have been
awarded or were awarded.
Two little words that mean a lot, ''THANK YOU''.
Remember, November 11th is Veterans Day.
One fine man probably summarized it best...
''It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us freedom of the
press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us freedom of
speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who has given us
the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier, who salutes the flag,
who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag,
who allows the protester to burn the flag.''
Father Denis Edward O'Brien, USMC
