The place changed me. It changed us all....Forever.

For many years, I have been trying to answer those who asked me,

" What was it like in Fallujah?? What was it like and what did you see??"

I have told them about some of the things that went on there but it was like telling someone who has never driven a car what it is like to drive a 1957 Chevy - you can describe it but you can't do it justice.

I was there for the battle in late 2004 - Early 2005 along with many others.  I spent time in BIAP ( Baghdad Int'l AirPort) and Mahmudiyah ( Triangle of Death).  I served in the company of many heroes although I don't consider myself one. 

Tom Ricks of the Foreign Policy Blog posted a great piece written by a Marine who was there too.  With great and ultimate respect, I repost the words of another Veteran of that time and place.  His words go a long way to stating clearly some of the things I have felt for years.

Like him, I have not fell victim to the issues of alcohol and self destructive behavior, but the place changed me.  It changed us all. In many ways we never knew. Forever.

Veterans' Day (II): When no direction is home, pride can hold you together

Posted By Thomas E. RicksMonday, November 12, 2012 -

By "Larry Nicholas"
Best Defense guest columnist

When I was in college one of my professors asked me what I thought our generation of veterans had to offer our society. I could not give her a good answer at the time and that always bothered me.

Every year on Veterans' Day I think of that question. I also think of the Corporal. The Corporal and I served together years ago when we were both very young men. He was a Marine and I was a Corpsman. He was a good man; easy going, confident, a proud Texan. We were in the same battalion, but in different platoons. I was close to his platoon Corpsman though, and I knew him fairly well. While serving we were sent to Iraq on the same deployment. It was a unique situation. The entire battalion didn't go, only a few. He was with his platoon, and I had volunteered to go with another platoon.

The year was 2004. Our unit had been tasked with taking back the city of Fallujah from insurgents. We attacked the city, and after weeks of savage combat we succeeded. Several of our brothers were killed, many more severely injured, but in the end we accomplished our mission. We stayed in Iraq a little while longer, after which we went back to our duty station. Upon our return though, we were grasped by a surreal regard.

Everything around us was the same, except for the way people looked at us. They looked at us like we were superhuman. Everywhere we walked people would move out of our way, like Moses parting the Red Sea.

The Corporal was especially well regarded. He had a right to be. While I was proud of my part in the battle, it was nothing compared to what he had done. The tales that were told about his heroism were unbelievable, unimaginable, but they were true.

Shortly after coming back the Corporal started to have problems. He had taken to alcohol too readily, often becoming very drunk. During the Marine Corps Ball he was walking around his dress blues sloppily incoherent, intoxicated out of his mind. Seeing him like that was devastating. I felt as if I was watching him being slowly reduced to ash. I tried to talk to him for a little bit, hoping some sense would come though. He only said this to me, "I wish I was still the man I was in Fallujah." I feared that the Corporal was becoming lost in his own anguish.

I had some issues as well. My hands shook from time to time. I mistook strangers for departed friends. A grim stare had become my default facial expression. People would ask why I looked so sad, often telling me, "You need to smile more." I regarded these as minor developments however. After all, I had no issues with nightmares, no problems with alcohol, and I had a promising military career ahead of me. I thought I had a handle on the situation.

My confidence was boosted by doing something peculiar that no one else had done. I decided not to go home. We were stationed overseas and when we came back everyone went home on leave, except me. I felt that I was not ready to go back home. Fallujah was still very fresh in my mind and I did not want it to be when I saw my family. So I stayed, I worked, I tried to forget.

Some of my Marines thought I was foolish for staying. One of them stated his opinion colorfully by saying, "You're crazy Doc. I'm going home. I have girls to seduce, babies to make!" The Corporal understood what I was trying to accomplish, although I don't think he approved. I had spoken to him about it once. I told him that I just wanted to forget about Fallujah and move on with my life. He gave me a strange look; part sympathetic, part scornful, part amused, part knowing. I wasn't sure what the look meant at the time.

I waited until Christmas to go back to America. I went back in my hometown. I was surrounded by my family. It should have been a wonderful time. There was just one problem. I wasn't home. It was at then that I knew what the Corporal's look had meant. The warmth and comfort associated with the concept of home was absent. I had forgotten what it felt like to be home. To know a place where one felt safe, felt at ease, felt happy. The concept that was once so natural became alien to me. Overtime, I compensated by sometimes becoming hyperactive, expending enormous energy in pursuit of certain goals. But that only covered up the problem, and only for a short while.

So you see, I was more affected by Iraq then I had thought. I had tried so hard to forget Fallujah, but I could not. The place had become a part of me. The Corporal realized this much sooner then I did. The Corporal and I exhibited different symptoms, but we both had the same problem. Our souls had become fragmented. The days that we spent in battle had changed us. They were difficult days. Days filled with hatred, anger, fear, suffering, and sorrow. But they were also days of great pride.

That pride supersedes any pain we could ever feel. If there is a saving grace, any silver lining in what we have been through, then that is it. Those were days when we felt privileged to be able to fight for our country. Days when we made each moment very sincere because we knew that we might not have many more moments left. Those were days when our pride was felt not in fleeting moments, but was instead weaved into the fabric of our being.

In retrospect, that is the answer that I should have given my professor. I should have told her that I believe the greatest gift our generation of veterans can offer society is our pride. But not pride in the superficially vain sense of the word. The pride we offer must be more genuine, more sincere. That pride must be the sort that compels us to encourage our fellow citizens to excel. It must be the sort of pride that drives us to remind people that extraordinary things can be accomplished. In an age consumed with cynicism and doubt, that is a service that is gravely needed. That's what being a veteran means to me.

To all my brothers and sisters that are still haunted by the violent memories of war, I want you to know that I know how you feel. I have walked in your footsteps. Those memories can be a terrible burden to bear. They often inhibit the joy of present moments by pulling us back into the past, sometimes putting a dark overcast on the future. But you do not have to accept things as they are. There is hope for a better tomorrow -- if you are willing to fight for it.

In my dreams, I sometimes see the Corporal. In those thoughts he had fought to get his life back. He was able to secure some peace in recent years. He found a good woman to love. He finally made his way back home. I hope that is his reality. No one has earned it more. In a group of proud warriors, he was a giant. But I cannot be sure. I have lost track of the Corporal, and I have not spoken to him in many years. I do like to think that he is well though.

I hope that all of our veterans can one day come home. Not just physically, but also in terms of spirit. In order for that to happen we will need to offer them more then just a simple plane ride back to their country. In order to ensure an adequate homecoming we have to respect their service without shunning the realties that came with it, appreciate the experiences that they can offer our society, and most importantly, we must try to understand.

"Larry Nicholas" is an Iraq War veteran who fought in the Second Battle of Fallujah in 2004 while attached to the ground combat element of the 31st Expeditionary Unit

NEPTUNUS LEX - Captain Carroll LeFon, US Navy Retired- He belongs to the ages - (1960-2012)

The world lost more than one hero yesterday.

Captain Carroll LeFon, US Navy retired died in a plane accident flying a Israeli Kfir for a military contractor when his jet crashed outside Fallon Air Base in Nevada.

He was known to many in the Navy but many others from his well read blog, Neptunus Lex.
http://www.neptunuslex.com/

He is the main reason I started writing here at US Navy Jeep. He inspired me to want to be more like him and to share the leadership lessons we had experienced in our military careers and life.

As I had written in an earlier posting, "It can all change in an instant..."; None of us are guaranteed anything. Capt LeFon was doing exactly what he loved, flying. He had a difficult day with his plane the day before when his drag chute failed to deploy....He wrote about it in his normal enlightened prose and made light of it. The next day, he was gone.

Our world is a little less bright and enlightened by his loss. He made us think, lead by example and shared the virtues of a cold glass of Guinness. We will not see his like on this earth again.

It is somewhat prophetic that I was watching " The Search for Spock " last night, which deals with the bond between Kirk and Spock and how Captain Kirk finds a way to overcome the death of his friend...In real life, we do not have such ability.

I share in the loss of our Shipmate, Captain Carroll LeFon, Neptunus Lex. All our prayers and sympathies to his wife and children.

In tribute to our beloved shipmate, I would share the words of Pericles who delivered a funeral oration that paid tribute to his men.

" I would have you day by day fix your eyes upon the greatness of Athens, until you become filled with the love of her; and when you are impressed by the spectacle of her glory, reflect that this empire has been acquired by men who knew their duty and had the courage to do it, who in the hour of conflict had the fear of dishonor always present to them, and who, if ever they failed in an enterprise, would not allow their virtues to be lost to their country, but freely gave their lives to her as the fairest offering which they could present at her feast.

The sacrifice which they collectively made was individually repaid to them; for they received again each one for himself a praise which grows not old, and the noblest of all tombs, I speak not of that in which their remains are laid, but of that in which their glory survives, and is proclaimed always and on every fitting occasion both in word and deed. For the whole earth is the tomb of famous men; not only are they commemorated by columns and inscriptions in their own country, but in foreign lands there dwells also an unwritten memorial of them, graven not on stone but in the hearts of men."

Pericles - In tribute to his soldiers after first battles of the Peloponnesian war

Rest Easy CAP, we have the watch. Fair Winds and Following Seas.

We remember all who served on Veterans Day - the 11th hour on the 11th day of the 11th month

Middleboro, MA is my hometown and we are a town that has sent many men and a few women off to fight the wars in defense of our country. The number of Veterans over the years include two Medal of Honor recipients. This is a town that understands the cost of war and the price of Freedom.

Our Fine Veterans Memorial Park is a jewel that sits on the Town hall lawn, was created and designed by the Veterans and was paid for by donations without a single cent of town, state or Federal assistance. It is truly a beautiful place to honor all who served their country.

On the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, we take pause to remember all those who laid down their normal lives and took up the uniform in defense of our country when they were called.

The History of Veterans Day

At the 11th hour on the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918, the Great War ends. At 5 a.m. that morning, Germany, bereft of manpower and supplies and faced with imminent invasion, signed an armistice agreement with the Allies in a railroad car outside Compiégne, France. The First World War left nine million soldiers dead and 21 million wounded, with Germany, Russia, Austria-Hungary, France, and Great Britain each losing nearly a million or more lives. In addition, at least five million civilians died from disease, starvation, or exposure.

On June 28, 1914, in an event that is widely regarded as sparking the outbreak of World War I, Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir to the Austro-Hungarian empire, was shot to death with his wife by Bosnian Serb Gavrilo Princip in Sarajevo, Bosnia. Ferdinand had been inspecting his uncle's imperial armed forces in Bosnia and Herzegovina, despite the threat of Serbian nationalists who wanted these Austro-Hungarian possessions to join newly independent Serbia. Austria-Hungary blamed the Serbian government for the attack and hoped to use the incident as justification for settling the problem of Slavic nationalism once and for all. However, as Russia supported Serbia, an Austro-Hungarian declaration of war was delayed until its leaders received assurances from German leader Kaiser Wilhelm II that Germany would support their cause in the event of a Russian intervention.

On July 28, Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia, and the tenuous peace between Europe's great powers collapsed. On July 29, Austro-Hungarian forces began to shell the Serbian capital, Belgrade, and Russia, Serbia's ally, ordered a troop mobilization against Austria-Hungary. France, allied with Russia, began to mobilize on August 1. France and Germany declared war against each other on August 3. After crossing through neutral Luxembourg, the German army invaded Belgium on the night of August 3-4, prompting Great Britain, Belgium's ally, to declare war against Germany.
For the most part, the people of Europe greeted the outbreak of war with jubilation. Most patriotically assumed that their country would be victorious within months. Of the initial belligerents, Germany was most prepared for the outbreak of hostilities, and its military leaders had formatted a sophisticated military strategy known as the "Schlieffen Plan," which envisioned the conquest of France through a great arcing offensive through Belgium and into northern France. Russia, slow to mobilize, was to be kept occupied by Austro-Hungarian forces while Germany attacked France.

The Schlieffen Plan was nearly successful, but in early September the French rallied and halted the German advance at the bloody Battle of the Marne near Paris. By the end of 1914, well over a million soldiers of various nationalities had been killed on the battlefields of Europe, and neither for the Allies nor the Central Powers was a final victory in sight. On the western front—the battle line that stretched across northern France and Belgium—the combatants settled down in the trenches for a terrible war of attrition.

In 1915, the Allies attempted to break the stalemate with an amphibious invasion of Turkey, which had joined the Central Powers in October 1914, but after heavy bloodshed the Allies were forced to retreat in early 1916. The year 1916 saw great offensives by Germany and Britain along the western front, but neither side accomplished a decisive victory. In the east, Germany was more successful, and the disorganized Russian army suffered terrible losses, spurring the outbreak of the Russian Revolution in 1917. By the end of 1917, the Bolsheviks had seized power in Russia and immediately set about negotiating peace with Germany. In 1918, the infusion of American troops and resources into the western front finally tipped the scale in the Allies' favor. Germany signed an armistice agreement with the Allies on November 11, 1918.

World War I was known as the "war to end all wars" because of the great slaughter and destruction it caused. Unfortunately, the peace treaty that officially ended the conflict—the Treaty of Versailles of 1919—forced punitive terms on Germany that destabilized Europe and laid the groundwork for World War II.

All Gave Some, while some gave all....THANK YOU VETERANS

Never too early or often enough to say "Thank You" to our Veterans....More to follow as we approach November 11th.

SPIN CYCLE

I am really, really, really, really sick of the Media putting our country on SPIN CYCLE.

Sarah Palin hit the nail on the head in her key address to the protest in Nevada:

" When we talk about fighting for our country, let’s clear the air right now about what it is that we’re talking about,” Palin told the crowd in the rally’s keynote address. “We’re not inciting violence. Don’t get sucked into the lame-stream media’s lies about … Americans standing up for freedom as inciting violence. Violence isn’t the answer. It’s a bunch of bunk that the media is trying to feed you.”

While Sarah won't be attending any MENSA meetings anytime soon, the DEMS and their lefty allies were the ones spouting " Protest is Patriotic" for the last 8 years.....funny how their tune has changed.....Bastards.

Leave my freedom alone.....I paid for it in full in service to our country.

Saw a T-shirt that summed it up....It showed a soldier standing in a hot LZ and it said " I know I'm going to Heaven because I have already been to Hell."

Daddy's Poem...(grab a hankie - you may need one)

Daddy's Poem

Her hair was up in a pony tail, her favorite dress tied with a bow.Today was Daddy's Day at school, and she couldn't wait to go.

But her mommy tried to tell her, that she probably should stay home Why the kids might not understand, if she went to school alone.

But she was not afraid; she knew just what to say. What to tell her classmates of why he wasn't there today.

But still her mother worried, for her to face this day alone. And that was why once again, she tried to keep her daughter home.

But the little girl went to school eager to tell them all. About a dad she never sees a dad who never calls.

There were daddies along the wall in back, for everyone to meet. Children squirming impatiently, anxious in their seats

One by one the teacher called a student from the class. To introduce their daddy, as seconds slowly passed.

At last the teacher called her name, every child turned to stare. Each of them was searching, a man who wasn't there.

And from somewhere near the back, she heard a daddy say, "Looks like another deadbeat dad, too busy to waste his day."

The words did not offend her, as she smiled up at her Mom. And looked back at her teacher, who told her to go on.

And with hands behind her back, slowly she began to speak. And out from the mouth of a child, came words incredibly unique.

"My Daddy couldn't be here, because he lives so far away. But I know he wishes he could be, since this is such a special day.

And though you cannot meet him, I wanted you to know. All about my daddy, and how much he loves me so.

He loved to tell me stories he taught me to ride my bike. He surprised me with pink roses, and taught me to fly a kite.

We used to share fudge sundaes, and ice cream in a cone. And though you cannot see him. I'm not standing here alone.

"Cause my daddy's always with me, even though we are apart I know because he told me, he'll forever be in my heart"

With that, her little hand reached up, and lay across her chest. Feeling her own heartbeat, beneath her favorite dress.

And from somewhere there in the crowd of dads, her mother stood in tears. Proudly watching her daughter, who was wise beyond her years.

For she stood up for the love of a man not in her life. Doing what was best for her, doing what was a right.

And when she dropped her hand back down, staring straight into the crowd. She finished with a voice so soft, but its message clear and loud.

"I love my daddy very much, he's my shining star.. And if he could, he'd be here, but heaven's just too far.

You see he is an American Soldier who died when his convoy was hit by a roadside bomb just this past year.

But sometimes when I close my eyes,it's like he never went away." And then she closed her eyes, and saw him there that day.

And to her mother's amazement, she witnessed with surprise. A room full of daddies and children, all starting to close their eyes.

Who knows what they saw before them, who knows what they felt inside. Perhaps for merely a second, they saw him at her side.

"I know you're with me Daddy," to the silence she called out. And what happened next made believers, of those once filled with doubt.

Not one in that room could explain it, for each of their eyes had been closed. But there on the desk beside her, was a fragrant long-stemmed pink rose.

And a child was blessed, if only for a moment, by the love of her shining star. And given the gift of believing, that heaven is never too far.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There must be many children in the same boat as this little girl, thanks to our servicemen and their families for the sacrifice they are making to keep our country free.

Their sacrifice includes when the children & families are left without their loved ones in the defense of our nation. Don't forget them.

REFLECTIONS OF OUR FLAG FROM KANDAHAR

With Reverence & Respect, this message is posted. I am in Kandahar, Afghanistan and wanted you to see this message. Please forward to ensure that as many as possible will read the words of this valiant warrior.

Courtesy of Northwest Herald of Illinois, Kevin Lyons is news editor of the Northwest Herald. e-mail him at kelyons@nwherald.com

V/R

Kevin J. Cook - US Naval Reserve (retired) - working as a civilian contractor in Kandahar, Afghanistan

=====================

E-mail message from U.S. Army Maj. Anne Brophy, who is assigned to the 143rd JAG Unit in Kandahar, Afghanistan

Today, I was given a great honor. My friend, MAJ De Mosby, invited me to join her at Mortuary Affairs. Kandahar Airfield just received 4 fallen warriors. They were on foot patrol when an IED went off.The fallen heroes have to be out of the country within 24 hours of death.

De and I were invited to put on smocks and gloves to assist in preparing the bodies for travel. We entered after the physician and chaplains had finished. The room wasn't cold but the tables were still sterile. The bodies were on the slab that makes up the bottom of the casket, each casket lined up from head to foot.Teams of two worked on each hero. I began with the sign of the cross. We assisted in actually inventorying the bodies and the items brought in with them. Only 3 of the 4 bodies will be able to have open caskets. Only one of those three will be able to have a fully open casket. We could see all four of their bodies.

A few of us through our professions have seen bodies on the table, in various states, but it was so hard not to cry for these young men. All of the soldiers and marines taking care of the bodies did it with great reverence. They see fallen heroes nearly everyday - and continue to treat each hero with dignity and respect. After checking the bodies for any personal affects and inventorying what they had. We assisted in zippering up the black bags and tagging the outside.

While we were there, the companions of the Air Force fallen hero asked to come into the room. Each of the bodies was draped with Old Glory before the companions were allowed to enter. Even though all of us were chatting in small groups, all stopped talking when the companions came toward the body.SSG Arthur drew back the flag and unzipped the black body bag, allowing the companions to view their fallen hero. De and I stood close to each other as the companions grieved. Shortly thereafter, they were escorted out. The flags were removed and put on the side.

The four fallen heroes were then carted outside to a big refrigerated container (reefers). While I didn't know protocol of standing at parade, the soldiers and marines attending to the bodies continued to handle the bodies gently and stood at parade rest when the other bodies were brought out.The large doors were then closed. We looked out to see SSG Kelly, and heard that one of the injured men was from his unit, a unit that De and I heavily support. SSG Kelly was strong, his enlisted soldier, a specialist, was barely hanging on. De and I gave both of them hugs. We then returned to the room where the bodies had been removed. I was amazed and thankful to these soldiers and marine that do this all of the time, unfortunately.

Four new flags were then removed from boxes. De and I had the honor of ironing one of the flags.Supplies are hard to come by and the ironing board is a few pieces of plywood, the iron was purchased from the PX with the soldier's own funds.(No iron donations are needed) They take great pride in ironing the flag and making it look as perfect as possible. While they do amazing work for our Fallen Heroes, many don't see what they do and how they honor our fallen. They do see the flag on top of the casket which is marched past ranks of soldiers, airmen, and marines from the United States and many other countries.

As De and I ironed, we almost cried. We ironed the broad red stripes of our flag, I thought of what the colors actually meant - and how their meaning could not have been more evident than today.

Charles Thompson, Secretary of the Continental Congress, reporting to Congress on the Seal, stated: "The colors of the pales (the vertical stripes) are those used in the flag of the United States of America; White signifies purity and innocence, Red, hardiness & valor, and Blue, the color of the Chief (the broad band above the stripes) signifies vigilance, perseverance & justice."

As we ironed the red, I thought about the blood these men had shed for us. I could remember the smell from the body when I had the honor of preparing his body for his final trip home. I ironed the white stripes - thinking about how young these men were. One barely had hair on his upper lip. Yet each one of them were proud to serve their country, mixing their innocence with their valor, next to each other. The blue represented the justice we are serving here - helping the Afghanistan people be free from terrorists and in turn, keeping our own land free from terrorists.

We cannot forget that these terrorists came to OUR soil, OUR land, and killed OUR people. September 11 photos are off the TV now, almost a forgotten memory but so real here. The terrorists continue to try and kill us everyday. These young men died to keep all of us and our families alive. They exhibited valor, purity and justice. Although it is late with the ramp ceremony at 0145, I am tired, and have a cold, I am staying up to go to their ramp ceremony.

At times, the fallen heroes names are not read at the ramp ceremony because family members have not been notified. The bodies go to Dover, Del. where they continue to be treated with honor and dignity. Please rent Taking Chance when you can to see how we honor our fallen heroes when they leave here. The new year started out with a ramp ceremony for 4 fallen Canadian Soldiers and one reporter. Tonight, we will say good bye to these four fallen heroes. After I spent time with these heroes, I went back to work, just like I went back to work after all of the other ramp ceremonies, just like I will in the future ramp ceremonies, just like on Christmas and New Years day. The mission still needs to be done.

I'll continue to go to the ramp ceremonies, for well over 50 fallen heroes, because I feel a need to thank each service member.I am still unhappy that I missed COL Rudzinski's son's ceremony but continue to pray for him and his family - I just didn't know. There are days I wonder why these fallen heroes were chosen, and others aren't. Why did I come home after Kuwait/ Iraq after having lived half my life already and yet these young ones, just starting, are now with the good Lord. It is because of our Lord that each of us go on. I can certainly tell you my faith has gotten stronger here - even though I still get into animated discussions with the priests here and there. Same old me but a little different. In the end, please pray for our fallen heroes, their families and those that take care of our fallen heroes

Sage Words from a Brother-in-arms....

From Neptunuslex, a great military blog - www.neptunuslex.com

I couldn't had said it better -

Veterans Day

At 1100 on the 11th day of the 11th month, the guns finally fell silent, but not before 10 million young men fell, never to rise again, with another 20 million maimed, and nearly 8 million missing, forever. The world got its first look at modern, industrial warfare on a massive scale and turned away revolted. Promised those left behind that this would be it, the war to end all wars.
It was a promise that went sadly unfulfilled.

On Memorial Day we lay flowers on the graves of those that fell. Today we give humble thanks to those that served, and returned again with honor to take up the plow, hammer or pen. Or to those who fell back into the ranks vowing to keep the sword bright and sharp for the next time, grimly aware that there will always be a next time, that only the dead have seen the last of war. Having seen for themselves the real nature of man, knowing as they do that weakness is provocative to savagery and that the surest path to peace is to be prepared for war.

Some march in parades, and see the battle pennants streaming from the colors. For them these are not mere gaudy flashes, for they have a memory of the time before they were in place, remember the streamers fresh and new, remember what it cost in human terms to tie them to the flagstaff.

Others will gather in taverns and VFW halls, hoist refreshments in memory of their youth, offer toasts to those forever young, and wonder how they will ever be able to explain any of it to anyone who wasn’t there, while knowing that for those who were, no explanation will ever be necessary.
Some will wake up in the middle of the night seized with nightmares or private guilt, some few will try to self-medicate, fall down a deep tunnel and end up wandering the streets muttering dark and unintelligible dirges of innocence lost and the human connections that cannot be restored once one has seen the whole world turn violently mad.

Military service is hard, even in peace time. People are asked to surrender a portion of their freedoms to better ensure the freedoms of the rest of us. Discipline is enforced; great exertions are called for, there are separations and privations. They are taught to run towards the sound of the guns, to stand in the hatch and fight the fire, to shove the throttles up and fly into the maelstrom. In short, they are conditioned to willingly go towards things from which every fiber screams to flee. They are taught, and most of them eventually come to believe, that there is something more important than themselves. That some things really might worth dying for, whether those be noble principles, those they left at home, or those on their left and right.

These are hard teachings, but they have the example of heroes to testify to the truth of them.
In this land we are graced with a vibrant political culture, but it was Washington’s guns and musketeers who gave it to us. We enjoy the remote fastness of our island home, but it was Decatur, Farragut and Porter who scoured the seas to defend our ocean ramparts. We have human freedom and increasing dignity here at home, but not before three million boys in blue and butternut contended the terms of that freedom. We have liberal democracies here and abroad, but not before millions more marched forth asking for nothing but a patch of earth to be buried in, should it come to that.

There are many blessings in this land, but although we tend to treat them as birthrights, transferable to our heirs in perpetuity, the reality is that all of them have been fought over. Perhaps the greatest blessing of all is that in each generation there have been those who answered their country’s call when it came and said, “I’ll go. I’ll do it. Pick me.”

They are the veterans, and this is our day to thank them.