Some veterans bear visible signs of their service: a missing limb, a jagged scar, a certain look in their eye.
Others may carry evidence inside them: a pin holding a pin together, a piece of shrapnel in the leg, or perhaps another sort of inner steel; The soul’s ally forged in the refinery of adversity.
Except in parades, however, most of the men and women who have kept America safe wear no badge or emblem. You can’t tell a vet just by looking.
So, who is a vet?
He is a 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 Danang.
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 who 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 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 remains unrecognized with the on the battlefield or in the ocean’s sunless deep.
He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket, 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 and ordinary, yet 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, Marine, Sailor, or Airman, and also 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 to them than any medals they could have been awarded, or were awarded. Two little words that mean a lot: “THANK YOU”.
God Bless Our Veterans!
- Author Unknown -
Others may carry evidence inside them: a pin holding a pin together, a piece of shrapnel in the leg, or perhaps another sort of inner steel; The soul’s ally forged in the refinery of adversity.
Except in parades, however, most of the men and women who have kept America safe wear no badge or emblem. You can’t tell a vet just by looking.
So, who is a vet?
He is a 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 Danang.
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 who 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 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 remains unrecognized with the on the battlefield or in the ocean’s sunless deep.
He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket, 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 and ordinary, yet 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, Marine, Sailor, or Airman, and also 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 to them than any medals they could have been awarded, or were awarded. Two little words that mean a lot: “THANK YOU”.
God Bless Our Veterans!
- Author Unknown -