Waiting in line to checkout at the grocery store today, I was casually conversing with a soldier home on leave for his grandmother's 99th birthday. Nice young man, starting his 8th year in the Army.
The checker thanked the man for his service as he was leaving, and it got me to thinking about our custom of thanking soldiers and veterans for their service.
As a disabled vet, I consider myself one of the fortunate ones. I can still walk pretty good, despite my injuries, and outside of some PTSD which messes with me from time to time, my mind is whole. But for lots of vets, this is not the case.
And so as a culture, we have taken to reminding our service men and women how much we appreciate them taking on the task of protecting our country. This is a great goodness, and it is deeply meaningful to veterans and active duty men and women.
But here's the thing. In my time in the Army, I never saw it as a “service” to the country, and in truth, I still have trouble seeing it as such. It was a job, I got paid — and a free college education to boot. I saw lots of countries, met lots of people. I got to drive on the Autobahn. I got to jump out of airplanes. I ate food on three continents. I discovered beer is a widely varied beverage, depending upon where you are, though hangovers are universal. Overall, I enjoyed my time in the military. So for me, it was never really about “service.”
What our military men and women do, that is of significance, is to make a promise. We promise to give our all — our health, our minds, and even our very lives. It is a blank check, offered in defense of our country, our people, and our Constitution.
And that is what we should thank our military men and women, and our veterans, for. Not for the service.
But for the promise...