Two of the simplest words you can say to someone are two of the words that are rarely said to anyone anymore. Much worse is the fact that those most deserving to hear them seem to hear them the least.
When I met Arnold he was living in what was known as shabby part of town in a rented two-bedroom house. I don't know what his pension was but judging from the condition of the paint and the shingles it wasn't much. But he was friendly enough, and invited me in so I could plan his internet installation. His furniture was old and shabby—which matched the carpet and the rest of the house nicely, but it was the place he called home. Models of aircraft from days gone by adorned the out of style end-tables and the worn out shelves. I noticed a painting of “The Wall” also known as the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. As I ran cable outside he and I began to talk of his service days. As an enlisted man in the army he was crew chief on a chopper in Viet Nam, which also meant that he was a door gunner. Any amount of research will reveal that the life expectancy of a chopper crew was not conducive to making pension. Yet here he was, years later telling me of a tracer round that came through their open window as bullets pinged off the chopper during one of their sorties. I paused as he grew silent and then I turned to him and said,
“Well, sir, it wasn't a very popular war and I don't imagine you've heard this much, but thank you for doing what you did for our country.” He nodded slowly and said, “Thank you, that means a lot. And you are right, I haven't heard it much.” He paused again. “Maybe three times in the last twenty-five years.”
As I sit and reflect on this my emotions still rise in my chest. The intense sorrow of knowing that so few rose to fight, but fewer still rose to thank them. So many poured out their blood, yet so few of us can pour out our thanks. Dissent, protests, hate, spit, and slogans against our vets and troops is not patriotism. It is despicable. Being thankful is patriotic.
You will see them in the grocery store, the mall, your school, your town. You will recognize the uniform first, but I hope you will learn to recognize what that the uniform is indicative of: a heart of service and patriotism. And although your pride will kick and scream, although your comfort will be momentarily denied, put your ego aside for one moment in eternity and walk up to that soldier and thank them. Their pride screams for their action, their comfort is nonexistent when they are sent to the far side of the globe, and their ego is tied to their unit to the point of using their bodies as shields for their fellow soldiers.
So take a second, just a second, walk up and look them in the eye and tell them that you are thankful and appreciative of what they've done for you, and for your country. You may never get another chance to tell them, and it may be the last time they hear it. It's the least you can do, and it's the least they deserve.
