We have veterans in our family tree; you probably do, too. Ours served in World War II, back when there was little communication between the people in the military and their families. My father and his two brothers were all in the Pacific, but they didn’t know that until later. My father was a Navy medic with the Marines. He performed his first surgery, unassisted, at age 19 (an appendectomy). He didn’t like to talk about the war much, but when he did, his stories were so moving. He later became a doctor and then a psychiatrist. He could never watch war movies. But he and his brothers all came back! Many didn’t.
Our hearts go out to all the families that have not remained whole because their relatives did not come back from war. When they say that is the ultimate sacrifice, it truly is. And we honor their memory.
Many veterans come back injured or with PTSD or are unable to integrate back into a society that has become completely foreign to them. The number of homeless veterans is immense. And the suicide rate is also terrible.
What can we do? One small thing is to thank every veteran you see. I did this recently at a TacoTime (yes, I love those tater tots), and the man told me that he hardly ever gets thanked and that he wears his military baseball cap all the time. He was touched that I thanked him, and for me, it was such a small thing. For him, it was years of his life in very dangerous situations.
