Once again it is that special weekend of the calendar here in America where we honor those who have served, or are currently serving, in the service of their country. Our country. It is a time that I always hold dear and try to commemorate with all the respect and dignity it deserves. I did not choose to serve in our country's military, so I feel the least I can do is honor those who have made that commitment with their lives and often their blood.
If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook, then you are no doubt aware that my father passed away in February of this year. He was a member of the Navy for eleven years, and is one of the major reasons that I grew up with an interest in the military. Dad served aboard several submarines, and would be gone for weeks at a time on patrol. Once when his sub was docked he was able to take me along so I could get a taste of a submariner's life. I ate in the wardroom, used the head, and slept in a bunk. I was five years old.
In honesty, that visit is one of my most vivid memories of my dad's time in the Navy. I don't remember him being on patrol, although my mother used to tell us about how difficult my sister and I were to handle when he was gone. I do remember my taste of being a Navy brat. Once I reached my school years we were moving from coast to coast every year. From kindergarten through second grade I attended schools in four different cities.
Dad left the Navy during my second grade year and we moved once again, this time to Michigan. This is where we would stay for the rest of my childhood. But even though he had left the sea and submarines far behind, they were never far from his mind. As I grew older he would tell me some stories of his time on subs. We would read the same sub books and play the same submarine games.
Even though he had a love for his old profession, he also bore a bitter streak in regard to the Navy and the government. There were always things he wouldn't talk about his time at sea. At times I could see the shadows in his eyes. He never actively served in a war zone that I'm aware of, although one might say the constant readiness required by the submarine corps equaled that environment. Some of his experiences had obviously not been as pleasant as his stories of war game successes.
So with that in the back of my mind, the thought occurred to me that my father had paid a price for his time in the military. Even though he did not have to carry a rifle and shoot at an enemy, he had been at war. Even though he had never been physically injured in the performance of his duties, his time in the military had left a mark on his psyche. Sometimes that mark was a good thing, and sometimes it was a bad thing.
I know veterans who have no outward marks of their time serving our country. Some may think they had an easy posting, or that they were lucky. But I would suspect that they bear a mark also, one they would not bear had they not taken part of protecting our nation.
As I said at the beginning, at this time of year we remember those who have served, and are actively serving in the US military. Many times the service members who lost their lives or are injured become the focus of our attention, and rightly so. But we should also remember and honor those who bear no outward signs from their time of service, for they have also paid the price.
