[darrels joy]

May I Salute You? By Patricia Salwei

I approached the entrance to Ft Belvoir's medical facility last year as an
old veteran puttered towards me. Easily over 80 years old, stooped and slow, I
barely gave him a second glance because on his heels was a full bird colonel.


As they approached, I rendered a sharp salute and barked, "Good morning,
Sir!" Because they were heel to toe, I began my salute, as the old veteran
was about two paces from me. He immediately came to life! Transformed by my
greeting, he rose to his full height, returned my salute with pride, and
exclaimed, "Good morning, Captain!" I was startled, but the full bird
behind him was flabbergasted. The colonel stopped in mid-salute, smiled at me
and quietly moved on.


As I entered the clinic, the utter beauty of the encounter preoccupied me. What
prompted the old man to assume that I was saluting him? Perhaps he just thought,
"It's about time!" After all, doesn't a WWII vet outrank us
all? I turned my attention to the waiting room taking a moment to survey the
veterans there. Service people rushed around, loudspeakers blared, the bell for
the prescription window kept ringing. It was a whir of activity and the older
veterans sat quietly on the outside seemingly out of step, patiently waiting to
be seen. Nobody was seeing. My old friend stayed on my mind. I began to pay
attention to the military's attitude towards its veterans.


Predominantly, I witnessed indifference: Impatient soldiers and airmen plowing
over little old ladies at the commissary; I noticed my own agitation as an older
couple cornered at the Officer's Club and began reminiscing about their tour
in Germany. To our disgrace, I have also witnessed disdain: At Ramstein AB
terminal, an airman was condescending and borderline cruel with a deaf veteran
flying Space A; An ancient woman wearing a WACS button was shoved aside by a
cadet at the Women's Memorial dedication in D.C.; A member of the Color
Guard turned away in disgust from a drunk Vietnam vet trying to talk to him
before the Veterans Day Ceremony at the Vietnam Wall.


Have you been to a ceremony at the Wall lately? How about a Veteran's Day
Parade in a small town? The crowds are growing faint. Why do we expect the
general public to care if we don't? We are getting comfortable again. Not
many of us around that have been forced to consider making the ultimate
sacrifice. Roughly 60% of today's active duty Air Force did not even
participate in Desert Storm. I always lament about the public's disregard
for the military. I do not count all the days I stayed in bed instead of going
to a ceremony or parade. It was my day to be honored and I deserved to sleep in.


It's just like a 28-year-old, whose weapon was "Microsoft PowerPoint
Slide Presentation" during the last conflict, to complain about
recognition. Sometimes I wonder who is going to come to our parades in 20 years;
will anybody look me up in the Women's Memorial Registry? The answer lies in
the present. We will be honored as we honor those who have gone before us. The
next generation is watching.


It is not my intention to minimize the selfless service of our modern military;
my comrades are the greatest people I know (and frankly should be treated
better). But, lately I'm wondering if the public's attitude towards the
military isn't just a reflection of the active duty military's attitude
towards its own veterans. It's time to ask - do we regard them, do we
consider them at all? How does our attitude change when the hero is no longer
wearing a uniform? I was proud to wear my uniform. Can I admit that I thought I
was cool? There is no denying that there is something about our profession,
combined with youth that feeds the ego a little. We have all seen a young pilot
strut into the Officer's Club with his flight suit on. He matters; he takes
on the room; he knows he can take on the world.


But, one day he will leave his jet for a desk, and eventually he will have to
hang up that flight suit. A super hero hanging up his cape....

How will we measure his value then? He will no longer look like a pilot, an
officer, a colonel. He'll just look like an old man coming out of the clinic
with his prescription. But, is he less of a hero? Will anybody remember or care
about all the months he spent away from his newborn daughter while making peace
a possibility in the Balkans? Probably not.


Our society has a short memory. Maybe it is not for the protected to
understand. Rather, it is my hope that when a young lieutenant walks by him they
will each see themselves reflected in the other-one's future, the
other's past. In that moment, perhaps, the lieutenant will also see the
hero, now disguised as an old man, and thank him. The truth is there are heroes
in disguise everywhere. I use to wonder why people would want to chat with me
when I was in uniform - telling me about their four years as a radio operator in
Korea. So what? I wasn't impressed relative to my own experiences. Now I
understand that they were telling me because nobody else cared. Proud of their
service, no matter how limited, and still in love with our country, they were
trying to stay connected. Their stories were code for: "I understand and
appreciate you, can you appreciate me?" The answer is, yes.


I separated from the Air Force in February. I'm out of the club. Still, I
want you to know that I'll attend the parades, visit the memorials, and
honor you. All this while my kids and your kids are watching. Then, maybe,
someday when I'm an old woman riding the metro, a young airman will take a
moment of her time to listen to one of my war stories. I, in turn, will soak in
her beauty and strength, and remember. Today, as I reflect on my adventures in
the Air Force, I'm thinking of that ancient warrior I collided with at Ft
Belvoir. I'm wondering where he is, if he's still alive, if it's too
late to thank him. I want to start a campaign in his honor - Salute A Veteran.

What a great world this would be if all our elderly veterans wore recognition
pins, and we would salute them even if we were out of uniform and saw them
coming out of a Seven Eleven. Yes, this started out as a misunderstanding on my
part. But, now I get it. That day was the first time in my life that I really
understood what it meant to salute someone.


Dear Veteran, I recognize and hail you! I do understand what I have and what
you have given to make it possible. So I'm wondering if we meet on the
street again - may I salute you?
_________________________________________________
Eagles!

This is as good a pro-veteran piece as I've ever seen written. I commend it to you all.

Larry Bailey
http://www.gatheringofeagles.org/vie...691491764.html