November 12, 2026
Walking around my neighborhood yesterday I saw a few American flags, as well as a few flags supporting different branches of the military, posted in yards and along driveways. This, of course, was all in celebration of Veterans Day. I’ve got plenty of regrets in my life, but not serving in a branch of the United States military is certainly one of my biggest. Not only did my dad serve in the National Guard as a teenager, but he also served in the Navy during World War II. I had plenty of uncles and neighbors who fought in that brutal war as well. I also knew a few other brave souls who tasted blood and sweat in the jungles of Vietnam. And of course I’ve known and worked with many folks who served their country, regardless if they saw action in the Middle East or were stationed in Germany, Japan, South Korea, or San Antonio, Texas.
One of my earliest memories of TV news was a newsclip of the Vietnam War. It was some propaganda film clip of American soldiers being taken prisoner by the North Vietnamese. For a little kid, this was pretty traumatic, and I had a couple of cousins that served in that war. My cousin Ronnie, on my mom’s side of the family, was drafted out of high school and became one of the most decorated Vietnam veterans in the state of Oklahoma with at least one silver star and a purple heart. I never talked to him much while growing up, but the last time I hung out at his lake house he dished out a few details concerning the time he spent in the jungles of southeast Asia. “You don’t miss with hand grenades,” he told me. Now there’s some interesting information.
My cousin Jerry, on my dad’s side of the family, felt the need to drop out of college and join the Marines during the Vietnam War. Years ago Jerry told me when he enlisted, he was tipping the scales at a hefty 280 pounds and when he came home, he was weighing a scrawny 170. If I remember his story right, the guy was blown up by some type of mortar fire. After he was wounded in battle he came home to recuperate, and after his wounds had all healed, he decided to start his own little war down in Mexico by getting into some huge fight where he basically destroyed some local bar south of the border. From what I hear, such was an act that weighed heavily on his stepdad’s bank account. After my cousin’s wounds healed up from the Mexican mishap he went back to Vietnam and got blown up again. I’ve never talked to Jerry much about those wild days, but I might need to get a few more details from him the next time I run into the guy. I see a movie in the works here.
Of course, I’ve known plenty of other Vietnam veterans over the years as well. My high school principal was a chopper pilot during the war. I’m sure he had some stories, but one of my favorite Vietnam stories came from my first supervisor at Texas Instruments who told me the tale of how he was driving a jeep in one of the hostile cities and got lost! And here I worry about getting lost in Dallas sometimes. He must have really been freaking out!
I’ve only briefly met a couple of veterans of the Korean War, and I don’t know if I’ve ever been in the presence of anyone who served in World War I. If I did, I’m sure I was way too young to realize the significance of such a rare honor. As a teenager, my dad served in the National Guard back in the 1930’s. During that time he actually carried out the military funeral honors for a Civil War veteran. Here in the year 2026, the idea that my dad was serving in the military at a time when Civil War veterans were still alive just blows my mind!
Way back in the 1970’s my mom claimed that everyone’s dream was the hope that a generation in the United States would be able to come and go without a war. After the Vietnam War we were all hoping that just might happen. Although the Cold War was still alive and well in the 1970’s, the Iranian Hostage crisis of 1979 kind of opened up a whole new era of issues, and the Middle East has been a hot spot ever since. Over the years I’ve known a few folks of my generation and beyond who have spent some time serving in the sands of the Middle East. For a few months I worked with a guy who claimed that he manned a machine gun on a helicopter during one of those scuffles. Strangely enough, he was far more interested in telling me about the action he got between the sheets with his lady army buddies than any action he ever saw in the helicopter with his machine gun.
Over the years though, most of the veterans I’ve run into proudly served their country without ever firing a shot. That doesn’t mean they served without a few scars though. I worked with a retired Coast Guard veteran who claimed he had tumors from all the work he carried out with radar. One of my old technicians revealed to me how much hearing he had lost during his service in the Army, while an ex-Navy man I know screwed up his back while loading missiles onto aircraft during his time on an aircraft carrier. Just because soldiers didn’t see the blood and guts of combat didn’t mean they were safe from injuries. One of my past co-workers joined the Army right out of high school and saw the world from Haiti to South Korea. Although he never sustained any kind of physical injuries, he said his biggest issue with the military was having to take group showers with his fellow soldiers. If that was his biggest problem with being in the military, I’d say he was pretty lucky.
When I first got out of college I spent over two years doing odd jobs until I found someone who was willing to give me a shot at a full-time job. I don’t remember how many job interviews I must have waded through, but during that time I talked to a few military recruiters as well. Since my dad was a Navy guy, I stopped by the Navy recruitment office as well as the Air Force recruiter. I just remember these guys in their shiny shoes and pressed pants looking at me without a hint of a smile. I could almost read their minds as if they were saying, “Oh great. Another middle-class kid with a worthless college degree. Thanks for stopping by, but we’ve got our quota of guys like you for the month.” The Army and Marines, on the other hand, were like, “What’s up dude! Let’s get you fitted for a uniform. What size are you? A 36 long?” To tell the truth, at that time of my life I felt flattered to be wanted…….by anyone!
Being a healthy, 6’2” 200-pound college grad in his early twenties, the Army and Marines looked at me like I was grade A beef! I had this very friendly recruiting sergeant calling me up on the telephone every once in a while, assuring me that the door was wide open for me! The guy was overflowing with personality and was trying to get me into the Marines as if I was a number 1 draft pick! However, when I showed up at the Marine recruitment office a couple of lieutenants came bounding in after their afternoon run, wearing shorts and tee shirts. When they learned that I had a bachelor’s degree they started telling me, “Don’t listen to that sergeant! We’ll slap a gold bar on you and pull you in as a second lieutenant!” Now that got my attention! Me? An officer? Wearing a uniform with gold bars? Would girls pay more attention to me? Would I travel the world? It all sounded so cool!
Of course once I got home my mom quickly slapped me in the face with a little reality. “Do you really want that kind of responsibility?” she asked. “You’d have people’s lives in your hands. Or you’d be the first one shot!” My mother was very supportive of anything I did, EXCEPT joining the military. “Don’t sign anything!” would always be her last words when I took off to talk to recruiters. A few years ago, I was talking to one of my chiropractors who was a young, athletic guy who actually had a chance to play division I college football. Instead of going to college right out of high school though, the guy claimed that he was all gung-ho and stoked about joining the Army! The way he told the story, his father pulled him aside and said, “Son, I have no doubt you’ll survive the Army just fine. However, I’m just not so sure your mom will.” I could sympathize with the guy. That’s exactly how I felt, and to this day the only uniform I’ve ever worn has been a high school band uniform.
Who knows? Maybe my mom would have adjusted. Over the years I’ve heard great stories from those who served. One of my co-workers who was in the Navy told me the story of how his ship was docked in Australia when some rich local showed up and requested several American service men to come to his daughter’s birthday party. Then again, some guys weren’t quite so lucky. During my first year at Texas Instruments I worked with a guy who served a few years in the United States Air Force. He told me that he had joined the military to see the world, but never got further than South Dakota. I’ve always wondered what kind of soldier I would have made though. I was in band in high school so I already knew how to march. Who knows? I might have retired as a full bird Colonel by now, or maybe just spent my hitch as that second lieutenant or even a buck private.
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