Editor’s Note: Rick is not a cop – never has been one. He is a Marine. I warn anyone who knows him not to say that he was a Marine during the Vietnam War. While that’s an accurate statement, saying he was a Marine will get you quickly reminded – maybe with a fist – that he is a marine and that he always will be. He also has another identity: my brother. No, he doesn’t share my last name or blood, but he became part of our family when I was just a snot-nosed teenager. We’ve grown to love and respect one another as much as two brothers ever could. He has as much respect and caring for our family in blue as I do.
I am running this piece about veterans because so many in our ranks are vets. It is here to honor their service and too often, quietly working under leaders who are utter asses.
To understand a Veteran you must know:
We left home as teenagers or in our early twenties for an unknown adventure.
We loved our country enough to defend it and protect it with our own lives.
We said goodbye to friends and family and everything we knew.
We learned the basics and then we scattered in the wind to the far corners of the Earth.
We found new friends and a new family.
We became brothers and sisters regardless of color, race, or creed.
We had plenty of good times, and plenty of bad times.
We didn’t get enough sleep.
We smoked and drank too much.
We picked up both good and bad habits.
We worked hard and played harder.
We didn’t earn a great wage.
We experienced the happiness of mail call and the sadness of missing important events.
We didn’t know when, or even if, we were ever going to see home again.
We grew up fast, and yet somehow, we never grew up at all.
We fought for our freedom, as well as the freedom of others.
Some of us saw actual combat, and some of us didn’t.
Some of us saw the world, and some of us didn’t.
Some of us dealt with physical warfare, most of us dealt with psychological warfare.
We have seen and experienced and dealt with things that we can’t fully describe or explain, as not all of our sacrifices were physical.
We participated in time-honored ceremonies and rituals with each other, strengthening our bonds and camaraderie.
We counted on each other to get our job done and sometimes to survive it at all.
We have dealt with victory and tragedy.
We have celebrated and mourned.
We lost a few along the way.
When our adventure was over, some of us went back home, some of us started somewhere new and some of us never came home at all.
We have told amazing and hilarious stories of our exploits and adventures.
We share an unspoken bond with each other, that most people don’t experience, and few will understand.
We speak highly of our own branch of service and poke fun at the other branches.
We know, however, that, if needed, we will be there for our brothers and sisters and stand together as one, in a heartbeat.
Being a Veteran is something that had to be earned, and it can never be taken away.
It has no monetary value, but at the same time, it is a priceless gift.
People see a Veteran and they thank them for their service.
When we see each other, we give that little upwards head nod, or a slight smile, knowing that we have shared and experienced things that most people have not.
So, from myself to the rest of the Veterans out there, I commend and thank you for all that you have done and sacrificed for your country.
Try to remember the good times and make peace with the bad times.
Share your stories.
But most importantly, stand tall and proud, for you have earned the right to be called a Veteran.
I’m a Veteran.
Borrowed from a Veteran
“Above all, it’s about going home at the end of the shift … “
We couldn’t agree more.
Rick enjoys hearing from his readers – EMAIL
Thank you for allowing us to share this article with you.
Please leave a comment about this article below.
Our editor can be contacted with any questions or input here: EMAIL
Remember to ‘Follow’ us
Thank you for supporting CopBlue.