There is an odd thing with which I struggle. It is an interpersonal communication struggle. This happens most often around a narrow cluster of holidays. Chief among them are Memorial day, Independence day, and Veterans day. This usually doesn't happen in connection with complete strangers though. Mostly this attributable to the fact that the person has to know I served in the military. It happens at cook-outs, carry-in meals, and lately on Facebook. It is impossible to create a Venn diagram based on the location aspect of this, trust me, I've tried.
When someone comes up to me, or singles me out in a crowd and thanks me for my service in the Navy and then calls me a veteran, I really struggle. I assure you that I am a man of many words, but this event never fails to render me absolutely speechless. My mind races vainly for the right thing to say, and usually locks up hitting a blue screen with a vague Microsoft fatal error warning. Then after a safe mode reboot, it continues to flounder for the right words for awhile. It usually ends up hitting the default, 'nod knowingly and say thanks politely' response. I try to do this as graciously as I can without looking like a complete idiot.. I am fairly sure I fail at this about half the time.
You see, its ok to say those words I suppose. They happen to be true. And I suppose its good that in our narcissistic and materialistic culture that people take a moment to think of something other than themselves. And I suppose its a good thing that people take a moment to think of the treasured history of selfless sacrifice in disgusting hell holes the world over. But why in holy hell are you thanking me for crying out loud.
There are men and women much more deserving of this recognition, both living and dead. My grandfather and great uncles are an excellent examples of this. They served at great cost to themselves in World War Two. My grandfather in the army served in India and Burma where he saw combat. One of my great uncles served also in the army in the Aleutian Islands and saw combat there. My other great uncle served in the Airborne and saw combat in Tunisia, Sicily, Italy, France, Belgium, and Germany.
In my view, those men exemplify what Webster means for the definition of the word Veteran. Those men left a part of themselves all across this globe. There are those that would ascribe their service to advancing the cause of liberty, but in having talked to them, I found their immediate motivations to be more earthy. They fought to survive each and every day. And at the end of the day if their efforts and sacrifices advanced liberty so much the better. Those are the type of men that deserve to be thanked.
When I compare my service to theirs, which I rarely do, mine is trivial in comparison. Yes I served on a submarine. Yes I was qualified in submarines, and earned my 'dolphins' the hard way. Yes I graduated at the top of my class from the second hardest training pipeline the modern navy possesses. I became a part of that happy one third that made it through training to my final duty station. Yes I saw the coupe in the Soviet Union from the tip of the strategic deterrence spear on the USS Benjamin Franklin SSBN 640 at the passive broadband station.
But I didn't fight in Normandy, jump on St. Mere E'glise, or fight the German army in the hedge rows of the Norman countryside. I did not survive being trapped at Bastogne during the Battle of Bulge. I don't have a stack of purple hearts and campaign service ribbons. I didn't see my unit mauled by enemy action and get reconstituted time and again.
Men of that caliber and that composition deserve the accolades. They deserve the gratitude you bestow upon me. They didn't get tickertape parades. They didn't get lavished with praise as was their right. They came home, resumed their lives, worked hard, and raised their families. The generations that have come to be as a result of their sacrifice owes a debt they can never fully repay to men like this.
Recently, though I have found a palliative remedy for this. When I am thanked, I have started accepting it on their behalf. Mentally, I am ascribing it to the account it properly belongs in. This is my mental nod to the greatest men I have ever known.
It has made all the difference.
When someone comes up to me, or singles me out in a crowd and thanks me for my service in the Navy and then calls me a veteran, I really struggle. I assure you that I am a man of many words, but this event never fails to render me absolutely speechless. My mind races vainly for the right thing to say, and usually locks up hitting a blue screen with a vague Microsoft fatal error warning. Then after a safe mode reboot, it continues to flounder for the right words for awhile. It usually ends up hitting the default, 'nod knowingly and say thanks politely' response. I try to do this as graciously as I can without looking like a complete idiot.. I am fairly sure I fail at this about half the time.
You see, its ok to say those words I suppose. They happen to be true. And I suppose its good that in our narcissistic and materialistic culture that people take a moment to think of something other than themselves. And I suppose its a good thing that people take a moment to think of the treasured history of selfless sacrifice in disgusting hell holes the world over. But why in holy hell are you thanking me for crying out loud.
There are men and women much more deserving of this recognition, both living and dead. My grandfather and great uncles are an excellent examples of this. They served at great cost to themselves in World War Two. My grandfather in the army served in India and Burma where he saw combat. One of my great uncles served also in the army in the Aleutian Islands and saw combat there. My other great uncle served in the Airborne and saw combat in Tunisia, Sicily, Italy, France, Belgium, and Germany.
In my view, those men exemplify what Webster means for the definition of the word Veteran. Those men left a part of themselves all across this globe. There are those that would ascribe their service to advancing the cause of liberty, but in having talked to them, I found their immediate motivations to be more earthy. They fought to survive each and every day. And at the end of the day if their efforts and sacrifices advanced liberty so much the better. Those are the type of men that deserve to be thanked.
When I compare my service to theirs, which I rarely do, mine is trivial in comparison. Yes I served on a submarine. Yes I was qualified in submarines, and earned my 'dolphins' the hard way. Yes I graduated at the top of my class from the second hardest training pipeline the modern navy possesses. I became a part of that happy one third that made it through training to my final duty station. Yes I saw the coupe in the Soviet Union from the tip of the strategic deterrence spear on the USS Benjamin Franklin SSBN 640 at the passive broadband station.
But I didn't fight in Normandy, jump on St. Mere E'glise, or fight the German army in the hedge rows of the Norman countryside. I did not survive being trapped at Bastogne during the Battle of Bulge. I don't have a stack of purple hearts and campaign service ribbons. I didn't see my unit mauled by enemy action and get reconstituted time and again.
Men of that caliber and that composition deserve the accolades. They deserve the gratitude you bestow upon me. They didn't get tickertape parades. They didn't get lavished with praise as was their right. They came home, resumed their lives, worked hard, and raised their families. The generations that have come to be as a result of their sacrifice owes a debt they can never fully repay to men like this.
Recently, though I have found a palliative remedy for this. When I am thanked, I have started accepting it on their behalf. Mentally, I am ascribing it to the account it properly belongs in. This is my mental nod to the greatest men I have ever known.
It has made all the difference.
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