How did we go from commemorating
the cessation of one of the worst wars ever to discount products at the local
mini market, free passes to a local movie theater, and a plethora of adoration
poured upon individuals that claim they “were just doing their job?”
Armistice Day: the eleventh hour of
the eleventh day of the eleventh month, 1918, for all intents and purposes, it
was the end of World War I. The war to
end all wars. The Great War. Over 38 million casualties. Nearly 2/3 of all European
‘military age males’ either killed or maimed beyond the ability to procreate.
And thus the recurring remembrance of Armistice Day was not for the dead, nor
the living, but for peace. What we now call Veteran’s Day in the United States
falls on the same day as the old Armistice Day, though it was originally a
commemoration of peace, of the end of the ugliness that scoured itself across
Europe and swept up most of the western World. But in 1954 the United States
grew Armistice Day into Veteran’s Day, expounding recognition for millions of
World War II and Korean War veterans.
What happened to the original
intent? Is it still there somewhere? I’m not arguing for a dismantling of
Veteran’s Day. Nor am I wishing to make my own disillusionment contagious so
that civilians become cynical of the respect they have for Veteran’s on
November 11th.
I’m curious how remembrance of
peace evolved into admiration for Veteran’s, which now seems to manifest itself
in nearly exponential adoration lurking within the proclamation, “Thank you for
your service.” It’s not the ‘thanks’ bestowed upon the Veteran that degrades or
detracts from the intent of the holiday, but when the ‘thanks’ over shadows the
‘service,’ because it is the service
originally responsible for the holiday. I think the complication is the
disconnect between the civilian and the soldier. Many soldiers don’t want
thanks, and have few words to respond with when they receive thanks. While the
latter part of the proclamation, the mention of service, is something vivid for
the veteran but vague for the civilian. And so it’s the service that the
civilian might not understand. The countless hours spent on guard duty, the
vivid memories of carrying body bags to a landing zone to be picked up by a
medevac helicopter, the sound an incoming mortar or rocket, the sound of
outgoing artillery, the sound of gunfire in crowded streets, the sound of
gunfire in open fertile farm country, the mixing of cigar smoke with diesel exhaust
none of which mask the body order of 130 degree heat and smell of fear after an
IED explodes and oily opaque smoke still wafts the air. Memories are on the
forefront of a Veteran’s mind and a day that risks’ idolizing their service
corrupts the recognition of peace which originated on November 11th
and the peace which the veteran hopes for in their heart.
And so I’m wondering how we got to
become a nation that unequivocally supports veterans while participatory rates
of military service, even in a time of war, continue to dwindle? And when we so
easily support our veterans through proclamation, do we risk committing
idolatry? When we glorify our veterans as heroes, sharing proclamation and
praising a popular phrase do we turn them into idols?
This is a time when fewer individuals
are volunteering for our nation’s military, and particularly, during the last
decade’s bout with war, less than 1% of our population participated in armed
conflict in Iraq and Afghanistan. Yet we’ve continued to love and adore the
soldier. Maybe our nation has a preoccupation with the glorified soldier
archetype, which we idolize, and in doing so completely miss the nuance of the
individual. But it’s the individual you need to know on this day. Not
necessarily what they went through. But get to know the peace they seek after
war.
So if thanking a soldier for their
service creates momentary recognition of lifelong burdens the veteran will
always bear, what do you do? Don’t not talk to the veteran and don’t be afraid
of the veteran. Instead of echoing a line we’ve all heard, ask us how we’re
doing. Challenge us to a conversation. Listen us into free speech. Be genuinely
interested in what we’re up to. Create a space for relationship and opportunity—not
adoration. And if you have no idea what else to say, share the peace. Say,
“peace be with you dear veteran, on this day in particular.”
Post four in a series of five posts for a class at Luther Seminary this semester: "Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Eleanor Roosevelt, and Martin Luther King Jr. in Dialogue with Public Theology Today."