As a child, I didn't understand why Dad wasn't appreciated. I also didn't understand why he was mad and sad about it, though. I thought maybe it was bitternesss brought on by bad memories of war or, perhaps, just bitterness of old age.
Dad was 17 when he enlisted in the Army, following his older brothers and escaping an abusive, alcoholic father. He met up with his older brother just before he was deployed, and heard stories of Agent Orange falling from the skies on the soldiers. Dad was wounded by shrapnel in his shoulder, and then later in his stomach. He came home with his arm in a sling and his stomach wrapped. His own father told him to get out of his house when he went home. His mother said nothing. He had no place to go. He stayed at halfway houses and lived with his older brother for a short time. He took up drinking, and lived with constant pain and flash-backs. Everywhere he went, his service and subsequent heath and emotional/mental problems were mocked. He skipped from job to job, hating authority and enduring his troubles largely alone.
Imagine coming back from war in your early twenties, sporting a medal and wound, and being completely rejected by your country men. I have heard so many people say that enlisted men and women are tools of the government. Sadly, many are. However, that doesn't make patriotism a crime and honorable service a selfish endeavor. I have met many men and women who enlisted after being recruited at a young and impressionable age, and who mostly enlisted for the benefits the military offers, but who ended up being deployed-and fought honorably in the tradition of American's armed forces. They ended up trying to do their country a service, and had a fierce passion to bring about some good and benefit to the citizens of their country. I see no shame in that. I hated growing up seeing my father's tears, especially when I realized they were not tears of anger or sadness, but tears of shame.
For those who aren't in the military or never have been, the perspective is different. It's much easier to lump individuals (and each soldier, yes, is a real, live human being) into a group and label them as tools than to recognize that we live in a country that devalues the persons that choose military service in an extreme and ugly way. There is a major problem with the "Support the Troops" propagnda, but that is another post altogether that I am not about to make.
Wikipedia statistics:
Some of the United States greatest spending is related to the Armed Forces. As of December 31, 2009 1,421,668 people are on active duty in the military with an additional 848,000 people in the seven reserve components. It is an all volunteer military, however, conscription can be enacted by the request of the President and the approval of Congress. All males, ages 18 through 25, who are living in the U.S. are required to register with the Selective Service for a potential future draft.
The United States military is the second largest in the world, after the People's Liberation Army of China, and has troops deployed around the globe.
The recruitment of young people is a huge campaign. If you're under 25, and haven't been recruited aggressively, where have you been? I almost enlisted in the Air Force, following my sister. I didn't have college options, and was without support -financial or emotional. It wasn't just a "what do I do now, oh, how about boot camp?" ideal. I did spend three years as a teen taking flying lessons with Young Eagles, and listening to the stories of retired military men who participated in the program. My sister and I were from the middle of nowhere, poorly educated, but bright and wanting to get out in the world and get an education. At airshows we were both introduced to recruiters, who would come up and talk to you and treat you like someone worthy. With our interest in flying, and the constant barrage of recruiters with convincing stories, the Air Force seemed a logical choice. We were naive and not aware that becoming a pilot is extremely rare. My sister enlisted and signed the dotted line before she realized this. She didn't regret it, though. As much as we choose our own paths, she chose hers and endured it.
My dad was proud of her. To me, at 14, watching her graduate boot was amazing. She looked like somebody going somewhere. In my little town, and in the surrounding cities, even back in the early 2000's, unemployment was on the rise. Now, it is roughly 20%. I saw the writing on the wall and was ready to get away. The only thing that stopped me from enlisting at 17 was I wanted to be a photographer, and did not realize how much college tuition costs. Also, I wasn't as outgoing as my sister. I was quieter, more contemplative. At 17, I moved out to my sister's off-base apartment to see what the military life was like.
My sister served six years. When she got out of the military, she could barely get a 9.00 an hour job at a daycare. She eventually went back to working as a civlian on base, unable to find a job off-base.
I met my husband during the time I lived with my sister. He was in the Air Force, and also has served in the Air Force Reserves, and the Navy. When we first married, he was unable to find a job in the civilian world as well. It is very hard, as I have seen firsthand, for a person who enlisted right out of high school to acclimate to civilian life. In the military, your needs are provided for, at least, and you're probably making even a little extra. With our country's budget for the armed forces, life in the military (as long as you have contracted out your body to the war machine) is not bad. What is bad is getting out, and realizing that when you aren't directly serving, and therefore immediately deploy-able to a war zone, the government support you receive is vastly less. Living on base, you don't perhaps realize that your service is insignificant to the civilian population at large, who do not notice you or recognize your worth unless you are saving them or standing between them and danger.
I understand that America is a messed up country. I understand that there are greedy, evil politicians that use the military branches as their war toys. I know war is terrible and a standing military isn't the greatest idea this country ever had. The United States has the largest defense budget in the world. Even the most patriotic veteran would probably admit our country has declared war with bad motives and with bad leadership at times.
Being patriotic doesn't have to mean nationalism. While many see the terms as synonymous, I don't agree. Patriotism comes from the Greek word patris, meaning fatherland. Patriotism is not an American invention, ladies and gentlemen. In ancient times, patriotism consisted of notions concerning language, religious traditions, ethics, law, and devotion to the common good, rather than pure identification with a nation-state. Somehow, this idea has been convoluted and diluted, to mean "I love everything the government of my homeland does, says, feels, and thinks." A lot of the problem is that everything and everyone has a new, fantastic label, and no one calls America their homeland. We, as a culture, do not understand the difference between nationalism and patriotism. Welcome to the west and the 19th century. It's not pretty.
Socrates said that "patriotism does not require one to agree with everything that his country does and would actually promote analytical questioning in a quest to make the country the best it possibly can be." I know looking at the current state of the United States makes any smart citizen suddenly unable to draw breath.
Do any of the negatives negate an individuals personal commitment? Just because a significant portion of today's military enlisted are people willingly serving for awful reasons doesn't mean the ones who hold strongly to old ways instead of irrational ideals should be degraded.
I am damn proud of my Dad. I know he served with pure intentions, and I know his patriotism was one that breathed devotion to humanity and beneficence. He was ruined by his naive intentions. He's in his middle sixties, and still reeling from the effects. He saved lives, and saved women and children, risked his life for a people across the world. He has the scars to prove it.
My husband does not bear outward physical scars. He willingly and passionately served, proud to defend his homeland and in love with the idea of what she was/can be. He served in a new century, one where the patriotic paradox is all too apparent. Every country is fighting for something, and war has changed drastically in the last 200 years. It is not the same animal, in fact, it's more a zombie, plodding forward mercilessly.
In the United States, patriotic history has been criticized for de-emphasizing the post-Colombian depopulation, the Atlantic slave trade, slavery, racial segregation, the population expulsions and the wars of conquest against Native Americans, and etc. Is the individual man supposed to take the blame for the entire civilization and it's downfalls? Those who served deserve to stand up and be thanked. They deserve to be proud that they made a sacrifice of their lives that was not required. Many have done so freely and with honor. Too many have lost their lives entirely.
I am not going to hate the person who holds tenaciously to patriotism. I refuse to categorize them as nationalists and despise them all for idealisms a few hold. When someday one of them defends my life, I'll know that I did not despise them, as much as I did not despise the factory worker, the judge, the waitress, and every other citizen who made their living in the best way they knew how.
I love my fatherland. It is this nation, this America, great and ugly as she may be. I was born here, I live here, and I am raising my children here. I don't wear "I love America" t-shirts, and I don't squeal in delight at the sight of our country's leaders. But I hope. There is no shame in hoping for better times. I hope someday my patriotism will be strengthened by adherence to a native religion, particularly because such a community usually has its holy places inside its fatherland.
Lord, have mercy.
