Honored By Those We Serve
1st Lt. Jonathan Bratten
This is a hard post to write, as Veterans
Day is such a meaningful day for all
those in uniform. I will try to do it
justice, knowing that we all have those
we remember who paid the ultimate
sacrifice.
Veterans Day has become difficult sort
of “holiday” for current members of the
armed services, and I am no exception.
While we appreciate that the country
takes a day off to remember the
sacrifices our comrades in arms, we also
remember our comrades who didn’t come
home and feel as though that could be
better remembered than a national day
off. Thus every November, we take part
in whatever ceremonies or parades we
choose to, always with that feeling that
civilians are not exactly keeping the same
holiday that we are.
Such were my feelings when taking part
in the Portland, Maine, Veterans Day
Parade. Portland, for those who don’t
know, is kind of a “granola” town.
One always has the feeling of being out of
place when in uniform, for no particular
reason. Hence my feeling of unease
prior to the parade and ceremonies. I
am used to the Midwest, where if you’re
in uniform, you don’t pay for anything.
And men point you out to their sons as
role models. As you’re pumping gas.
Add this to my already mixed feelings
about Veterans Day and you have the
confused cocktail of thoughts that was
my morning.
It was a slightly chilly morning, and I only
expected about a hundred or so people at
the parade.
And now I must apologize to Portland,
and New England, for doubting its quiet,
solid, patriotism. For all along the milelong route, hundreds of citizens observed
our march.
Old men, remembering a different
time, with different faces, but all the
same spirit; young women telling their
children what this day meant; families
who smiled and called out their thanks;
and more, who just simply spoke with
their presence, or held a sign showing
gratitude.
Swallowing my pride (and a tear), I
admitted that I had done the American
public wrong.
We were all at one time
civilians too, so in a very real
sense, we draw our strength
from them. We draw our
strength from our families,
some who may have never
worn the uniform but still
hurt with the rest of us.
Our spouses feel our pain more sharply
than even we do at times, making them a
special sort of veteran.
So, in the end, I guess what I’m trying to
say is that when we sometimes retreat
behind the uniform to silently grieve,
remember, or celebrate, we need to
remember that civilians share the same
emotions; not for comrades, but for
husbands, wives, sons, and daughters.
This Veterans Day, I was reminded why
we serve.