For most folks, Veteran’s Day perhaps symbolizes a day off from work. As enjoyable as that is, we have to take this time to truly recognize what it represents and why we have to acknowledge it.

It would be important to remember, yes enjoy your day off. At the same time we owe anyone who has ever served in the military, as well as their families the appreciation they deserve.

Of course when we see brochures and pamphlets that advertise recruitment, absolutely it is perceived as a brave, noble and honorable thing to do. 

And it is. We need to be clear on that.

However if we dig a little deeper, and with those of us who happen to be U.S. Veterans or have them as family members, let us take a moment to truly recognize what it is they have done for us and our nation.

These days obviously our military is built on individuals who volunteer for duty. This is a very good thing. It gives our fellow Americans, both male and female a fantastic opportunity to serve honorably, learn new trades, see new places, and are financially set if they choose to go to college.

Once again, the US military can be a fantastic opportunity for the young men and women of our country.

However, we need to turn back the clock a bit and think about the thousands of Veterans who served in the military, and had absolutely no choice but to go.

Enlisting is an honorable thing to do, and we should always be supportive and encouraging to the those who have joined. That being said, we need to think about how a person and their family would feel about getting a letter in the mail saying you have absolutely no choice but to go to war. 

If you refuse, you will go to prison instead for a very long time.

Just try to put yourselves in that person’s shoes for just a minute. For most 18 year old’s these days, graduating high school is when we start thinking about college, jobs and possibly joining the military. 

If we go back to the 40s, 50s and 60s, getting drafted was something that certainly weighed extremely heavy on a lot of young men’s minds.

Choosing to join is one thing. Being told you have no choice is another.

Let us imagine a scenario for one minute that thousands of draftees can relate to. 

You have just turned 18 years old, and are looking forward to finally graduating high school. Maybe you have been looking at certain colleges across the country. Perhaps you have already started looking for a good paying job, or maybe you and your high school sweetheart are ready to tie the knot and start a family.

These were different times.

But there’s one thing that’s laying heavy on your mind as the war in Vietnam continues to rage on. More and more young men such as yourself are getting that dreaded government letter in the mail.

And then the day finally arrives, and you find it waiting for you in the mailbox. You have been ordered by the U.S. Federal Government to report for duty. 

You have been drafted.

You are an 18 year old young male with his whole life still ahead of him, yet you have just received a letter that may have just sealed your fate.

You share the news with your mother and father (if you even have both), and there is long silence with very little talking for the next several hours.

After a few hours of letting it all sink in, the news finally hits your mother and she begins to cry. She knows what this means and what is waiting for her son when he arrives at bootcamp. She also knows what waits for him halfway around the world.

You family feels all of these overwhelming feelings of despair, despite the fact that a vast majority of Americans do not support this war in the first place. 

A few weeks pass and you are able to wrap your brain and feelings around the whole ordeal. Then the morning finally arrives when it is time to report to basic training.

You embrace your family just before you leave. Mom is still crying as she wraps her arms tightly around you. You both know fully well that this may be the last moment you ever share together.

Going to war is not camp, and it’s not a game.

After hours, or even days of traveling, you finally arrive where you were instructed to report. You are marched off of the bus with other very young men such as yourself. All are sharing the same overwhelming feelings of fear and uncertainty with you. Everyone is trying miserably to look tough and unafraid as a terrifying, hardened Drill Sergeant introduces himself.

You belong to him now.

The next several weeks are hell. Your head is shaved, your personal items are now gone and all of your clothing is now issued by the government.

You awake every single morning to the loud shouting of your training officers. You jump out of your bunk like a flash, despite not really getting any sleep each night. 

Each night you still feel the fear of what is waiting for you far off in another country, and you know you are going. You also think about your parents, friends, and sweetheart who now seem like they are worlds away. You hope they think of you as much as you think of them.

You fear everyone is forgetting about you.

After weeks of enduring the harsh realities of military basic training, the day has come and you graduate.

It’s not like graduating high school or college however, oh no.

Now the time has come to hop on a ship or plane, and head over to an incredibly foreign country to fight an enemy you have never laid eyes on. 

It is now at this point that the lives of our grandfathers, grandmothers, fathers and mothers were permanently changed.

For the next several years you will be crawling through the harsh elements of the jungle where spirit-crushing humidity, disease-carrying mosquitoes, aggressively poisonous snakes, tigers, and harsh typhoons become an everyday familiarity.

All the while you are being shot at by an enemy who knows their own jungle far better than you do. The citizens of this country do not want you there, and your own country does not support the war you are fighting.

After two or three years of all this, and seeing very close friends and companions perish right in front of you many times over, it is now time to go home.

Then the guilt sets in.

Why am I going home now? Why can’t my brother who served with me go home to his family? Why is my life worth going back when so many others didn’t make it?

It is now at this point where the “healing” begins. This healing isn’t like a broken wrist or a scrapped up knee. This healing can be one hard, long road for any Veteran that has experienced what was just discussed.

We now know that feeling as survivor’s guilt, complimented by years of severe post-traumatic stress syndrome to go along with it.

The brochures make it look heroic and honorable, and it certainly is. But they don’t show us the fear. They don’t show us the pain. They don’t show us the home-sickness. They don’t show us the terror. They don’t show us one sacrifice after another, and it certainly doesn’t show us the loss.

Now might be a great time to go find a Veteran, and thank them immensely for their service.

They had to experience all of that.