Congress has designated May as National Military Appreciation Month, “to ensure the nation is given the chance to publicly show their appreciation for troops past and present.”
I’m an Army veteran. I don’t reveal it often. However, when it slips out and someone says, “Thank you for your service,” I’m able to respond with only a shallow, uncomfortable smile and a search for a change of subject. I don’t want to offend a well-meaning person. But I wonder how they think I ended up in the army, what they think I have done, and what they know about life in the military.
When recognizing National Military Appreciation Month, it is important to have a clear understanding about military service and the nation’s military mission. Why are U.S. troops present in approximately 100 other countries? What is the goal in sending troops to ambiguous wars in faraway countries, such as Afghanistan and Iraq? When is it, if ever, appropriate to expect troops to unflinchingly obey orders that may inflict injury and death on other human beings, including civilians, while destroying infrastructure, homes and the environment? Who should be expected to serve in the military?
Recently I joined with 22 people gathered to explore the implications of “Don’t thank me for my service.” They self-selected in response to an open invitation from a statewide church organization. The respondents included enlisted and officer veterans, a career veteran from a three-generation military family, family members of veterans and active duty military, people with friends connected to the military, and one person with no military connections.
Each person spoke openly about their personal familiarity, involvement and feelings when facing the social/patriotic obligation to publicly say, “Thank you for your service.” There were no challenges nor debates over the different perspectives and opinions. There was universal support expressed for the honesty and risk-taking in the telling of each person’s story. It was an uplifting experience.
In this setting I was also able to tell my own story.
In 1962 I was drafted into the Army. Before being drafted I had often advocated for conscientious objection, but I never took the initiative to apply for the classification. When drafted, I volunteered to be a medic, believing I would not have to train to carry a weapon. I was wrong. However, my assignment was at Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, D.C. I was relieved that I would at least be saving lives, not taking them, until I found out that even that was not necessarily true. Research shows that the mere presence of a medic among soldiers creates a false sense of security. Combatants take more risks and therefore may be injured or killed more often. So much for my altruism. “Thank you for your service,” reminds me I was betrayed by my own ignorance and trapped in a system that violated my ethics.
Our personal stories included expressions of pride in military service, empathy for those who questioned military action or who suffer from PTSD, and understanding for those expressing a sense of the tragic in war. The conversation included empathy for all the mentally and emotionally broken military women and men as well as the hardship on their families.
These stories led to engagement with ethical issues. Is the use of military power the primary tool to solve disputes among nations? Is it ever ethically acceptable to initiate a preventative war? What is a “just war”? Should supreme military power be the dominant instrument to advance the United States’ brand of democracy and cultural norms? When is the nation’s industrial complex overly dependent upon the military for its profit and keeping workers employed? Is it ever appropriate to show appreciation for the military by blindly rallying around the flag waving over an American military posture of domination to secure economic, political and cultural supremacy?
Since 2001 the U.S. has spent approximately $6.5 trillion on several wars while sustaining some 60,000 casualties. In Afghanistan, Iraq and elsewhere these wars have contributed directly or indirectly to an estimated 750,000 “other” deaths. Andrew J. Bacevich writes in Harper’s Magazine, “This is an egregious misuse of American military power and an equally egregious abuse of American soldiers.” It is indeed tragic.
The discussion group arrived at several conclusions. First, they pointed out there are many nonmilitary people who put themselves in harm’s way to heal, feed, shelter and counsel people suffering the ravages of war and other injustices. They must be included when giving thanks for service. Second, before thanking a veteran, it is necessary to show interest in the experience of the veteran and to seek understanding about the feelings, thoughts and commitment a veteran has about his/her service.
These insights of the group generated some alternative ways to engage with veterans and demonstrate support. Examples included: “How do you feel about your time in the military?” “What can you tell me about your experience?” Listen to their answers and emotions. Then some responses might include: “I’m glad you are back home with us.” “Welcome home.” “I’m thankful you’ve come home safe.” “I’m sorry you were injured.” “We stand with you as you seek to integrate back into your home life.”
As for me, I would cherish people saying, “the story of your service leads me to believe it’s time to end our country’s ambition to enforce its preferred culture upon other countries.” Or perhaps say to me, “Together, maybe you and I and my friends can influence our country to become a leader in advocating nonviolent negotiations and relationships among nations. Maybe we can become a country supporting struggling people of the world with U.S. resources, aid and hospitality.”
Exchanges like these would broaden my smile and give meaning to my military service. They would be true expressions of support. “Thank you.”
(John Buttrick lives in Concord and can be reached at johndbuttrick@gmail.com.)