"This will remain the land of the free
as long as it is the home of the brave."
Copyright © 2017
by Ralph F. Couey
On Saturday, we drove down to the city of Orange, California to spend the day with Cheryl's brother and his wife. While we were there, we walked to a nearby park where a Veteran's Day event, called "Field of Valor" was being held.
Every year, the city puts on this event honoring American veterans by posting 1,776 American flags in the outfield of one of the baseball fields. It was a breath-taking sight on a perfect sunny day to see that forest of red, white, and blue furling and unfurling in the breeze. I've been a lot of places in my life, 32 countries, by my last count, and I can tell you that one of the most inspiring sights an American can see is our flag flying proudly in a place far removed from home.
Amongst the ordered ranks and files of flags, veterans walked. Some were current or recent service members, those from the trio of Middle Eastern wars of the last 27 years. Others were older. Vietnam, Korea, World War II. Many were there with their wives and families. Some were alone, accompanied by darker memories never shared.
Attached to the staff of each flag was a placard, honoring a veteran by name, branch, rank, and dates of service. But through the center rows were flags carrying larger placards, remembering those who earned America's highest award, the Medal of Honor. As I walked along, I paused and read every single one. There were heroes there from the Civil War, Haiti, Nicaragua, World War I, World War II, Korea, Vietnam, Kuwait, Iraq, and Afghanistan. I was struck by the number of heroes from our most recent wars. I hadn't realized that so many had acted with the kind of selfless courage, and that such heroic acts had passed almost unnoticed in the news.
Without exception, the person who enlists for military service is a very different person from the one who completes their tour. Military service is not for the weak. Recruit training, commonly known as "boot camp," is the first of many crucibles to pass. There, we learned how to put others ahead of ourselves. There we learned that following orders keeps one alive in the middle of a fight. There we learned that we are so much more capable than we ever thought possible. And there, we made the first of many friendships, most of which would endure for decades.
Our first duty station was the realization that this was a very serious business, and that we would always be training and learning because in war, you have to get it right the first time. There won't be any second chances. For some of us, combat awaited. The ultimate test. There it was learned that when a best friend died violently beside you, there was no time to mourn because the enemy was still out there.
It is a fact that in the history of the world, no nation has shed so much of its own blood in defense of other people. We really haven't fought a war on our own soil since 1812, and while World War II started for us with the brutal attack on Pearl Harbor, for the rest of the war, we took the fight to the enemy. American soldiers pushed our enemies out of Africa, Europe, and across the Pacific, always liberating other countries along the way. A visit to the American cemeteries outside our borders remains a mute, but meaningful testimony about American honor.
Today's veterans are fighting a different kind of battle, the war that refused to stay behind. Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome, PTSD, haunts veterans today. There wasn't a diagnosis like this for veterans of previous wars. It was just assumed that when the troops came home, life would just go on. It is a sad state of affairs that those who never went to war will never understand those who did. One veteran told me, "I can't tell you about war. If you weren't there, you'd never understand." Those who go into combat are witness to scenes of horror. Human bodies torn to shreds, their blood, guts, and brains worn by those nearby. Enemies fight viciously, sometimes in the very personal battle of hand-to-hand, and face-to-face combat. In order to survive, the combat veteran must change; and that change is never for the better.
In all of our wars, participation was relatively short. World War II lasted for America, just three years and nine months. From the first military advisors to the last combat troops, we were in Vietnam from 1955 to 1973, 18 years. But in all of those wars, no single serviceman was in combat for more than two or three years. We are now sending our troops back for their fourth and fifth combat tours in the Middle East. Not surprisingly, more and more return to us broken in mind, body, and spirit.
It is not just their service in uniform that we should honor. It is what they were asked to give of themselves. They left their youth, their energies, that boundless enthusiasm that has always marked American youth. Their loved ones see the shell that remains, and they mourn the death of their spirit.
Those with physical wounds are easy to spot. Prosthetics, scars, chronic limps identify them to us. But the worst wounds are those we can't see. A brain that was too close to too many explosions. A heart torn apart by the death of friends. And the loneliness of possessing a fundamentally different view of the world, and of life. I once sat with a Pearl Harbor survivor in the Chief's Mess aboard the Battleship Missouri as he wept over the memory of his buddies who died that day, and the life-long guilt he carried because he survived and they didn't. For him, and others, the war will never go away. The violence and death they experienced can never be forgotten. There are entirely too many of them who wander among the homeless because the war left them utterly unable to function.
On Veteran's Day, and on Memorial Day as well, we would do well to remember those broken spirits and aching hearts that walk among us. We should always remember that the sacrifice they made has paid for the freedom we take so utterly for granted. And the safety about which we never seem to think.
It is the trendy thing these days to thank veterans for their service. That gratitude is always welcome, always appreciated because we who served know that it comes from the heart. But I think the greatest form of appreciation is in the lives you lead, and the kind of America you allow, through your attention to issues and that all-important right to vote. For the combat veteran who left it all on the battlefield, the best thanks they can get from the rest of us is to make sure that America survives as the cynosure of unity and freedom the rest of the world sees in us.
As one unnamed veteran said, "If I am to die in battle for my country, please, my countrymen, do not make my sacrifice an empty one."
It's time for us to make America worthy of those who gave the "last full measure of devotion."
Amongst the ordered ranks and files of flags, veterans walked. Some were current or recent service members, those from the trio of Middle Eastern wars of the last 27 years. Others were older. Vietnam, Korea, World War II. Many were there with their wives and families. Some were alone, accompanied by darker memories never shared.
Attached to the staff of each flag was a placard, honoring a veteran by name, branch, rank, and dates of service. But through the center rows were flags carrying larger placards, remembering those who earned America's highest award, the Medal of Honor. As I walked along, I paused and read every single one. There were heroes there from the Civil War, Haiti, Nicaragua, World War I, World War II, Korea, Vietnam, Kuwait, Iraq, and Afghanistan. I was struck by the number of heroes from our most recent wars. I hadn't realized that so many had acted with the kind of selfless courage, and that such heroic acts had passed almost unnoticed in the news.
Without exception, the person who enlists for military service is a very different person from the one who completes their tour. Military service is not for the weak. Recruit training, commonly known as "boot camp," is the first of many crucibles to pass. There, we learned how to put others ahead of ourselves. There we learned that following orders keeps one alive in the middle of a fight. There we learned that we are so much more capable than we ever thought possible. And there, we made the first of many friendships, most of which would endure for decades.
Our first duty station was the realization that this was a very serious business, and that we would always be training and learning because in war, you have to get it right the first time. There won't be any second chances. For some of us, combat awaited. The ultimate test. There it was learned that when a best friend died violently beside you, there was no time to mourn because the enemy was still out there.
It is a fact that in the history of the world, no nation has shed so much of its own blood in defense of other people. We really haven't fought a war on our own soil since 1812, and while World War II started for us with the brutal attack on Pearl Harbor, for the rest of the war, we took the fight to the enemy. American soldiers pushed our enemies out of Africa, Europe, and across the Pacific, always liberating other countries along the way. A visit to the American cemeteries outside our borders remains a mute, but meaningful testimony about American honor.
Today's veterans are fighting a different kind of battle, the war that refused to stay behind. Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome, PTSD, haunts veterans today. There wasn't a diagnosis like this for veterans of previous wars. It was just assumed that when the troops came home, life would just go on. It is a sad state of affairs that those who never went to war will never understand those who did. One veteran told me, "I can't tell you about war. If you weren't there, you'd never understand." Those who go into combat are witness to scenes of horror. Human bodies torn to shreds, their blood, guts, and brains worn by those nearby. Enemies fight viciously, sometimes in the very personal battle of hand-to-hand, and face-to-face combat. In order to survive, the combat veteran must change; and that change is never for the better.
In all of our wars, participation was relatively short. World War II lasted for America, just three years and nine months. From the first military advisors to the last combat troops, we were in Vietnam from 1955 to 1973, 18 years. But in all of those wars, no single serviceman was in combat for more than two or three years. We are now sending our troops back for their fourth and fifth combat tours in the Middle East. Not surprisingly, more and more return to us broken in mind, body, and spirit.
It is not just their service in uniform that we should honor. It is what they were asked to give of themselves. They left their youth, their energies, that boundless enthusiasm that has always marked American youth. Their loved ones see the shell that remains, and they mourn the death of their spirit.
Those with physical wounds are easy to spot. Prosthetics, scars, chronic limps identify them to us. But the worst wounds are those we can't see. A brain that was too close to too many explosions. A heart torn apart by the death of friends. And the loneliness of possessing a fundamentally different view of the world, and of life. I once sat with a Pearl Harbor survivor in the Chief's Mess aboard the Battleship Missouri as he wept over the memory of his buddies who died that day, and the life-long guilt he carried because he survived and they didn't. For him, and others, the war will never go away. The violence and death they experienced can never be forgotten. There are entirely too many of them who wander among the homeless because the war left them utterly unable to function.
On Veteran's Day, and on Memorial Day as well, we would do well to remember those broken spirits and aching hearts that walk among us. We should always remember that the sacrifice they made has paid for the freedom we take so utterly for granted. And the safety about which we never seem to think.
It is the trendy thing these days to thank veterans for their service. That gratitude is always welcome, always appreciated because we who served know that it comes from the heart. But I think the greatest form of appreciation is in the lives you lead, and the kind of America you allow, through your attention to issues and that all-important right to vote. For the combat veteran who left it all on the battlefield, the best thanks they can get from the rest of us is to make sure that America survives as the cynosure of unity and freedom the rest of the world sees in us.
As one unnamed veteran said, "If I am to die in battle for my country, please, my countrymen, do not make my sacrifice an empty one."
It's time for us to make America worthy of those who gave the "last full measure of devotion."
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