Today is Veterans Day, formerly
known as Armistice Day. In 1919, President Wilson established November 11 as
the day to remember our veterans with these words: “To us in America, the reflections of
Armistice Day will be filled with solemn pride in the heroism of those who died
in the country’s service and with gratitude for the victory, both because of
the thing from which it has freed us and because of the opportunity it has
given America to show her sympathy with peace and justice in the councils of
the nations…”
In 1968, the Uniform Holiday Bill
moved Veterans Day so that it became part of a three-day weekend. But unlike
other holidays, the significance of the 11th hour of the 11th
month was not to be deferred to a three-day weekend. After three years of total
confusion, President Ford wisely decided that tradition of this patriotic pride
should be returned to its original date. On October 25, 1971, he returned it to
November 11 regardless of the day of week.
We dedicate this one day to honor
those who served our country. We honor them for their sacrifice.
My dad fought in World War II. He
often talked about how soldiers were drafted for “the duration.” What a scary
thought that must have been. They were shipped off to war with no idea of when
they would come home, or if they would come home. World War II had 297 deaths
per day. A total of 405,399 American soldiers died in this war. This entire
country was vested in that war. Everyone sacrificed and did their part. People
were given rationing stamps for everything from tires to food. Manufacturing of
automobiles and home appliances were stopped. And racing fans—all auto racing
was banned, including the Indianapolis 500 for the duration of the war.
Jim Fisher, my brother Tommy, and
nine percent of their generation served in Vietnam. Jim served nearly a year,
and my brother Tommy came home after three months when he was wounded.
Jim’s wounds were harder to see. He
was wounded in spirit and had an untreated cervical spine injury. A total of
2,709,918 were sent to Vietnam and 58,202 died. Sixty-one percent of them were twenty-one years old or younger. Five of
them were sixteen years old.
Unlike previous World War veterans,
Vietnam veterans did not see a hero’s homecoming. They came back individually.
Some were lovingly met by family members, others came home to be spit on and
called “baby killers.” Jim never forgave “Hanoi Jane” and was thoroughly
disgusted with Hollywood’s portrayal of “crazed” Vietnam veteran killers in TV
shows and movies. He suffered from PTSD,
and I can’t help but wonder what part the aftermath of Vietnam played in his
early-onset dementia.
Many Americans reap the benefits of
our country without personal sacrifice, and it seems that disparaging our
government has become the norm. We whine about how awful things have become and
borrow trouble on a daily basis. We have split this country along party lines
rather than being united in the common good. We’re too busy placing blame for
what goes wrong and taking credit for what goes right. We salute the flag with
our hands over our hearts, but too many hearts don’t believe in the United
States of America. We take freedom for granted, and by doing so, we are
figuratively slapping our veterans’ faces.
Today, November 11, is a day to not only
honor our veterans, but also to truly appreciate them. Going to war to preserve
our freedom to complain, whine, and gripe is not a small feat. It involves
sacrifice, dedication, bravery, and often leaves scars externally and/or
internally.
Today would be a good time to count
blessings and be thankful for the freedom we have here in the United States. It
is an opportunity to be grateful, truly grateful. Veterans Day is one day to find
every veteran you know and say, “Thank you for your service.”
copyright © November 2014
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