Veterans Day – A Proud Cadre

“Why would you ever join an institution that openly discriminates against you?”  This is a question I am often asked when on the road, to which my response usually begins, “Well, I was unaware I had the honor of being included in that discriminated class at the time…”  I had no clue I was gay when I joined, and so that wasn’t a deciding factor at any time during my lengthy visits to the Military Entrance Processing Station (MEPS), nor was it when I finally had the honor to raise my right hand and promise to defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic.  But that’s all irrelevant, as I think I still would have joined had I already come to terms with being gay.  And I still would look back on my time in the military with no regrets.

The military is such a unique institution.  We – those serving and who have served – often complain of the slow bureaucracy that somehow integrates itself into everyday life in the military, but it really is amazing that an institution of over 2 million active duty and reserve members accomplishes anything, let alone in such a coordinated fashion.   Cohesion, here, really is key, which is why the word rings so powerfully for those who have served.

I still remember my first day of Basic Training – Day Zero.  It was Thanksgiving Day, 2000.  The day previous was spent scrambling and vainly attempting to avoid the wrath of the drill sergeants with whom we were recently acquainted, exhaustively holding arms up non-stop from midnight until three in the morning just so we could begin to fully realize how much our lives were about to change.  My Thanksgiving meal two hours later was a fun-size box of cocoa puffs – no milk – and a hard boiled egg.  We worked KP duty that day (Kitchen Patrol), and had the opportunity to serve the base officers and those assigned Ft. Jackson as a duty station a full thanksgiving meal, complete with turkey, stuffing, and cranberry sauce.  Later, while furiously scrubbing pots and pans with limited cleaning supplies, I witnessed reality set-in on the face of many a soldier, a few of whom subsequently broke down.  Well, at least until the drill sergeants came to check in on us.  We had already learned at that point not to draw undue attention to ourselves so that our names would not be remembered.

Day One would prove to be no better, nor would Day Two.  Eventually, however, the situation improved, and gradually basic privileges and a sense of dignity were restored.  But we still remembered what it was like to be torn down, and to be torn down together, building a sense of camaraderie like no other experience I know.  I still, to this day, find myself bonding immediately to virtually every veteran, active duty, and reserve service member I meet because of that shared experience.  Regardless of how divergent our lives may have been post- active duty, every time I look a veteran in the eye I can see that they ‘get it.’  That they were ‘there’ too.

I’m proud to have served.  And I’m proud of everyone I have served with.  And today, I thank every single one of them, regardless of background, orientation, religion, creed, race, gender, or sports team preference.  Because, in the end, we all took that same oath, and we all kept it proudly.