It was 47 years ago last month that Uncle John was killed in action in Vietnam. His death left a huge hole in the life of this little 7-year old boy who had no father. I only remember everyone crying at the funeral.
My Grandpa fought in some of the fiercest action seen in WWII. His Seabee Squadron was decimated at Guadalcanal by sniper fire. Out of 32 men only 5 made it out. Some say Grandpa was one of the lucky ones. I’m not so sure about that. Part of him died back there in the South Pacific.
My Dad fought in the horror of Chosin Reservoir during Korea, where he was awarded a Silver Star for bravery. I met my dad only twice in my life. He told me about interrogating a POW and torturing him to death. With a Ka-Bar. In the side of his head. Part of him died there.
I think about the veterans coming back from Afghanistan with limbs blown off and having to re-build their lives before it even started. The guys suffering from TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury) and PTSD. Thousands of families forever changed by their sacrifice.
On this Veteran’s Day my Facebook feed is filling up with well-meaning platitudes expressing gratitude to the veterans who sacrificed so much. I know people mean well but it seems so hollow.
We were beat in Korea. We lost Vietnam, Irag and now Afghanistan. Why were we fighting there? They didn’t attack us. Maybe Dwight was right. The Military-Industrial complex, the Merchants of War, Big Oil, all wrapped up in political corruption.
On this day where we remember those who gave so much, I ask you – Why do we need this bloated military? It’s bankrupting us financially and morally. We are killing this nation, one family at a time.