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How a Veteran Sees Life.
by J. Mark Jackson ( 2nd Cav, 82nd Airborne, 101st Airborne, Screaming Eagles)
I was a soldier, and I went to war. By and by I became known as a veteran. My civilian career progressed, my family grew and the Army drifted into the gray mist of memory. But the experience of military service leaves an indelible imprint on the psyche and soul of each soldier, sailor, airman, and Marine.
What is it like on a day- to -day basis, to be a veteran? To this Army combat veteran it means all of the following, and more:
Being surprised by how much 4th of July fireworks sound like a mortar attack..
...and how much a nail gun sounds startlingly like the bark of an AK- 47 when heard in the distance.
Turning to Advil as the narcotic of choice for a bad back, and creaky bones , each earned like an invisible Purple Heart.
Watching the evening news and feeling guilty for not being there and fighting beside those soldiers in the story...
...but being grateful that the country doesn't still require my service, because it was always sweltering hot and I could no longer keep up physically. This is a poignant realization for any former soldier.
Waking up from a dead sleep, frantically searching for my weapon while my wife softly says," It's all right; it's all right, your home."
Finding a lump in my throat and tears welling in my eyes when I see images of a weeping wife, or a mother holding a flag folded in a triangle.
Hearing a mother say, " Thank you for your service. Because you served, my son didn't have to." Really?
Finding the term hero applied much too liberally. Audie Murphy, the most decorated soldier in WW2 was a HERO. We were soldiers.
Wondering, when i forget how I filed my tax return last year, if i'm suffering from an undiagnosed TBI, or i just forgot.
Wondering, when i miss hearing words in a conversation, if i have a hearing loss caused by the close rattle of a .50 cal or was i just not paying attention.
Experiencing a slight gag reflex when a Girl Scout trys to sell me cookies because I made a pig of myself because of their generosity in sending countless boxes to the war zone.
Feeling positive about the next strong and dedicated generation of future veterans to whom we handed the baton of service.
Having a cracking , faltering voice when speaking of wartime events that trigger strong emotions, no matter how many times I speak of them.
Forever being identified as a military person based solely on an upright posture and shoulders back gait.
Buying a red paper poppy whenever i see another veteran selling them, and calling him brother when the exchange is made.
Being unable to throw those paper poppies away, ever. They seem somehow to sacred to desecrate.
Feeling a warm surge of engulfing pride, like a warm shiver, whenever the American flag passes, or during the singing of our national anthem.
Surviving a hostile staff meeting by saying to myself, " It has all been easy since..." and filling in the blank with the battle of my choice.
Feeling slightly self conscious at my childs school on Veterans Day, but also feeling important and honored.
Maintaining a slightly obsessive fetish with how a bed is made, especially on the corners.
Perpetual promptness. No event is too unimportant to not be on time or early.
Having a wave of emotion crash down while watching my son as he raises his right hand and swears the same oath as i did a generation before.
Sitting slack jawed in amazement when i realize that my family's dinner has been paid for by a table of teenage girls across the restaurant. Thank you!
No longer feeling compelled to prove my mettle- that urge was settled and sated while wearing a uniform.
Critiquing any marching organization during a parade and resisting the urge to cry out,'' LEFT, LEFT, YER LEFT RIGHT LEFT!" if it is out of step.
Gladly deferring sabre rattling to those who have never had to do it.
Grasping the knowledge that peace is eminently more precious than any state of war, regardless of the justification. Veterans know the cost of peace first hand, and that cost has a first name, a last name, a middle initial, and parents.
Remembering something that Supreme Court Justice, Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr. said of his Civil War service," In our youth our hearts were touched with fire." I would add devotion, exhilaration, camaraderie, and fear. Our service in the armed forces determined who we were and continues to define who we are moving into the future. My father said about events in his life, " I wouldn't give a penny to do it again, but I wouldn't take a million dollars for the experience." Would most veterans say the same about their service? I believe so; i know i do. Further, and more important, i consider my honor to have served our country.
by J. Mark Jackson ( 2nd Cav, 82nd Airborne, 101st Airborne, Screaming Eagles)
I was a soldier, and I went to war. By and by I became known as a veteran. My civilian career progressed, my family grew and the Army drifted into the gray mist of memory. But the experience of military service leaves an indelible imprint on the psyche and soul of each soldier, sailor, airman, and Marine.
What is it like on a day- to -day basis, to be a veteran? To this Army combat veteran it means all of the following, and more:
Being surprised by how much 4th of July fireworks sound like a mortar attack..
...and how much a nail gun sounds startlingly like the bark of an AK- 47 when heard in the distance.
Turning to Advil as the narcotic of choice for a bad back, and creaky bones , each earned like an invisible Purple Heart.
Watching the evening news and feeling guilty for not being there and fighting beside those soldiers in the story...
...but being grateful that the country doesn't still require my service, because it was always sweltering hot and I could no longer keep up physically. This is a poignant realization for any former soldier.
Waking up from a dead sleep, frantically searching for my weapon while my wife softly says," It's all right; it's all right, your home."
Finding a lump in my throat and tears welling in my eyes when I see images of a weeping wife, or a mother holding a flag folded in a triangle.
Hearing a mother say, " Thank you for your service. Because you served, my son didn't have to." Really?
Finding the term hero applied much too liberally. Audie Murphy, the most decorated soldier in WW2 was a HERO. We were soldiers.
Wondering, when i forget how I filed my tax return last year, if i'm suffering from an undiagnosed TBI, or i just forgot.
Wondering, when i miss hearing words in a conversation, if i have a hearing loss caused by the close rattle of a .50 cal or was i just not paying attention.
Experiencing a slight gag reflex when a Girl Scout trys to sell me cookies because I made a pig of myself because of their generosity in sending countless boxes to the war zone.
Feeling positive about the next strong and dedicated generation of future veterans to whom we handed the baton of service.
Having a cracking , faltering voice when speaking of wartime events that trigger strong emotions, no matter how many times I speak of them.
Forever being identified as a military person based solely on an upright posture and shoulders back gait.
Buying a red paper poppy whenever i see another veteran selling them, and calling him brother when the exchange is made.
Being unable to throw those paper poppies away, ever. They seem somehow to sacred to desecrate.
Feeling a warm surge of engulfing pride, like a warm shiver, whenever the American flag passes, or during the singing of our national anthem.
Surviving a hostile staff meeting by saying to myself, " It has all been easy since..." and filling in the blank with the battle of my choice.
Feeling slightly self conscious at my childs school on Veterans Day, but also feeling important and honored.
Maintaining a slightly obsessive fetish with how a bed is made, especially on the corners.
Perpetual promptness. No event is too unimportant to not be on time or early.
Having a wave of emotion crash down while watching my son as he raises his right hand and swears the same oath as i did a generation before.
Sitting slack jawed in amazement when i realize that my family's dinner has been paid for by a table of teenage girls across the restaurant. Thank you!
No longer feeling compelled to prove my mettle- that urge was settled and sated while wearing a uniform.
Critiquing any marching organization during a parade and resisting the urge to cry out,'' LEFT, LEFT, YER LEFT RIGHT LEFT!" if it is out of step.
Gladly deferring sabre rattling to those who have never had to do it.
Grasping the knowledge that peace is eminently more precious than any state of war, regardless of the justification. Veterans know the cost of peace first hand, and that cost has a first name, a last name, a middle initial, and parents.
Remembering something that Supreme Court Justice, Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr. said of his Civil War service," In our youth our hearts were touched with fire." I would add devotion, exhilaration, camaraderie, and fear. Our service in the armed forces determined who we were and continues to define who we are moving into the future. My father said about events in his life, " I wouldn't give a penny to do it again, but I wouldn't take a million dollars for the experience." Would most veterans say the same about their service? I believe so; i know i do. Further, and more important, i consider my honor to have served our country.
