Here in the United States of America, this weekend we remember and honor the men and women who have served and are serving in the US Military.  I’m not about to talk politics here.  I learned long ago never to discuss politics with family or friends.  No one wins that argument.  What you can’t argue with, however, is the incredible bravery of these men and women.

Watching a documentary, I was captivated to discover the CIA’s decades long tracking of Osama bin Laden and the US Navy Seals who completed the ultimate mission to kill him.  The pain staking research that lead to the discovery of his location and the subsequent actions to take him out are more than just great planning and execution.  Heroic.  Success for the men and women on the ground was all about training, discipline, and doing a job well.  Anything could’ve gone wrong, but little did.

I enjoy playing a computer game or two mostly shoot ’em up World War II strategy games like “Battlefield.”  I imagine myself participating in these infamous battles at Utah Beach, Berlin, or Iwo Jima.  From my living room, it seems like it must have for so many Generals and Admirals far from the battlefield to position your troops, to lose some (or many) here and there along the way, only to change your strategy and add more men.  To do whatever it takes to win.

But, for the men who actually did fight in these battles, it was no game – their lives were scarred forever.  Seeing their friends and comrades blown to bits and die, there was no restart button to bring them back.  These men were killing or were killed.  This wasn’t time wasting activity.  This was a fight to the death so that knuckleheads like me could sit on their ass and work and play without tyranny.

When I was younger, my father scared me away from joining the military.  I was a child who enjoyed playing ball and his horror stories of boot camp kept me far away from even the thought of enlisting.  He was too young to serve in WWII, instead sailing for 2 years in the Navy during the Korean War conflict.  He never saw combat.  I simply couldn’t imagine my dad firing upon another human being.  He’s afraid of urinating in a public restroom.  But, does anyone ever really know what they would do unless they’re thrust into that situation?  This is why you train repeatedly for weeks on end before the actual event occurs.  In other documentaries, I’ve heard men say they prayed to God, not so much to live, but to have the guts to complete their missions.

Guts.  Are you kidding me?  The most dangerous thing I do each day is drive.  It saddens me to learn US fighting men and women are returning from battlefields and committing suicide at higher rates then ever.  I want to reach out to them and want them to know their lives are worth living.

When I see a man or woman in uniform, I want to salute.  I want to show my respect.  I sometimes thank them for their service to my country.  I know I haven’t said it every time, so today and every day, in my heart and in my mind, I pay my respects.  I’m not worthy of your protection, but you all are.

You have loved ones.  You have family and friends.  I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through.  But, whatever it is, it’s not worth taking your own life.  Get back here and as difficult as it is to resume a ‘normal’ life, you’ve fought tougher battles and won.  You can win this one too, back at home.  Get back and stick around.  Tell your stories.  Help us all learn about the horrors of war so that it’s not repeated again and again and again.

Thank you for your service.  I salute you.