Veterans Day Observations

Eighty-nine years ago the “War to End All Wars” came to an end with an armistice on November 11. Anniversaries came to be known as “Armistice Day.”

After another World War, Congress decided that if wars were to become this common that there just weren’t enough dates to have holidays for each and changed the name to “Veterans’ Day” so it could commemorate the fighting men and women of all the wars our country gets itself into.

The War to End All Wars did not do the job.

During most of our wars, including our present aggression in Iraq, the government has begged us to “support our troops” and, as a rule, the American public has done a fairly good job.

But as Paul Wellstone noted, we do not do nearly as good a job of supporting our veterans as we do supporting our troops.

Viet Nam may be the best example of our negligence there.

I remember picking up a young man in about 1970 at the airport who wanted to get home to Mendota Heights or Eagan. [I don’t remember exactly where. It was off Highway 55 someplace.] The man told me he had just returned from Viet Nam. We did not discuss the matter much, but he made it clear that he was glad to be back. I remember being dragged out of bed early one morning when I was about five to go to an airport to see my cousin return from some strange place called “Korea” and I did wonder why he had to take a taxicab home from the airport.

What I really remember was what happened when we got to the house. When we arrived there was a middle-aged man mowing the front lawn. As I was removing the luggage from the trunk, the older man said to the younger man something to the effect of “Oh, you’re back” and returned to mowing while the soldier picked up his gear and went on up to the house.

I have always assumed that the older man was the returning soldier’s father, but never knew for certain. But it seems that if he were something else – uncle, neighbor, cousin, whomever -- that he still must have known where the man had been and could have given a better greeting. Usually when I have taken somebody with luggage home or to visit their kinfolk, whoever is waiting has offered to help with toting the gear.

Even to a war opponent like I was, it seemed strange. After all, the Viet Nam military was made up of conscripted men and men who enlisted to avoid conscription. In all wars, it seems to be the old who decide that young must fight.