I reckon the only folks who would remember that phrase are diehard Apocalypse Now movie buffs or those of us who actually smelled it. I suppose it goes hand in hand with the old saw “”For those who have served, freedom has a taste — and a price — that the protected will never know”. There are many iterations of P. McCree Thornton’s fabled phrase but they all convey the same sentiment. Personally, I get way more goosebumps out of the fourth stanza of the National Anthem. As for napalm, it really just smells like burnt gasoline-lots of it. As for those of us who raised our right hand and swore to defend our Motherland? Try selling yourself into slavery for a few years and then report back and share your sentiments. The rewards of that service can never be measured in free meals at Applebee’s™.

Veterans are a special breed of human. Perhaps that’s why we’re becoming as rare as hen’s teeth. When there isn’t a draft or a war requiring a shit ton of young men and women to fight, the services actually have to devote an inordinate amount of time and energy trying to recruit sufficient numbers of souls to sign up. I get that. You’re right in the prime of youth and have enough testosterone or estrogen to cover the continental US about a foot deep. Your body is saying it’s time to practice procreation-and lots of it. The last thing it’s saying is “Gee. I think I’ll become celibate for a few years and get credits for free college”. Oh hell no.

Several days ago, our President attended a NFL football game and swore in 300 recruits to the military. He was met with boos from the crowd. It seems emblematic of a new National mood; one of dissatisfaction with anything political. Whether you think of him as “Orange Man” or as our Commander-in-Chief, one hundred years from now folks will remember that 300 aspiring members of our military were booed for their choice to serve their country and possibly forfeit their lives.

I guess I don’t have to point out that fifty or so years ago there were Americans who booed my fellow servicemen and me for our choice to do something very similar. George Santayana anyone? Regardless of who, exactly, they were booing, be it the President or the newly sworn in, their sentiment is frightening. Worse, we are required to acknowledge them as fellow Americans.

Some of us might aver that  a nation is judged by how it treats its Veterans. Our first President stated “The willingness with which our young people are likely to serve in any war… shall be directly proportional to how they perceive veterans of earlier wars were treated and appreciated by our nation.”

While most of us don’t carry a grudge forever, I know a lot of Veterans- myself included- who would give their eye teeth and large quantities of George Washington coupons for the great honor of being allowed to pee on Henry Fonda’s daughter’s grave. But that’s a subject for another day.

Much has been said about Veterans-both good and bad. Bill Calley got the short end of the stick after My Lai. Capt. Medina got medals. I admire him because I know the truth. I almost got the poopy end of the punji stick for calling in nape and frying a hoard of Pathet Lao on the verge of overrunning some SOG folks at Xieng Kouang near the Plain of Jars one morning. I neglected to ask permission before clearing Misty 22 in hot. I’d do it again even if it meant a guaranteed Court Martial. There were six of my fellow servicemen down there and they expected no less.

This illustrates the bond Veterans have with one another. Once you become one, you join what used to be called the 3 percenter club. It’s one percent now. After Sunday’s treatment of our newest recruits, I fear it may become a fraction thereof. When it does, we’ll be cluelessly questioning where America went wrong-and blaming each other.

America is a compendium of disparate faiths and races. We were once considered a melting pot but now it’s more a miasma of competing ideologies rather than a proud citizenry composed of many who consider themselves Americans. It’s my belief that when you move Heaven and Earth to get here to our shores, you might aspire to assimilate yourself into our society. That has changed.

Servicemen don’t have that problem. They’re on a mission from God to become… servicemen in defense of our country. When they separate or retire and become freshly minted Veterans, they don’t have that problem. It’s not some sick militarily-ingrained psychosis. It’s bred of a desire to keep America free. Face it, we have it cush here. I suppose there will always be dissent or a glass-half -empty mentality that somehow it should (or could) be better. One thing’s for sure. White entitlement doesn’t exist in the military or the Veterans ranks.

As our reward from a grateful nation, we get free food from so-so restaurants for one day of the year. We get a parade or two and a “Thanks for your service” or a “Welcome Home!” Don’t get me wrong. This isn’t a complaint blog. It’s an observation based on fifty-odd years of sitting in the bleachers watching. The truth is I’m a) not a parade kind of guy and b) I don’t need a bunch of attaboys to get through life. I’d bet the majority of America’s Veterans would second my emotion. Sometimes you can be happy just knowing you did something good for others without expecting a trophy or reward.

My greatest reward was making it home alive and being able to help Veterans get their benefits in a meaningful way-not a clean pair of socks and a new toothbrush at a VA standdown for the homeless. And bubba, when I say benefits, I’m not talking about a 10% rating for tinnitus or hemorrhoids. I’m talking the highest and best rating I can produce for you even if it means not getting a dime for doing it.

There’s also a unique difference between Veterans advocates. Some do it as a business and some do it because they want to make life better for their fellow Veterans. I pride myself in being one of the latter and I’m sure I could roust out a passel of former clients who would attest that I kick ass and take names. The reason is simple. I was one of those who had no one to mentor me or effectively fight for my rights. I traversed the desert like Moses for 28 years. I had to learn how to win because nobody was teaching us the secret handshake or the password.

I hope this finds all of you Veterans in a better spot soon if you’re not already. I also offer a hand to those who just cannot get any traction at the VSO outfits across our fruited plains. Asknod now, in 2025, actually comprises a loose consortium of like-thinking attorneys and Agents who all work together in concert by focusing on certain aspects of VA law like musculoskeletal injuries, weird diseases and mental depression. If I can’t do it, I have at least ten others who can…and will and more importantly, are damn eager for the honor of being allowed to do so.

Outside of Happy Veterans Day,  that’s all I’m gonna say about that.

P.S. One of my Veteran buddies was ragging on me last week and saying I need to take some time off and let my hair down. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I went AWOL in early October to Idaho…

It’s a gourmet meat thing. You wouldn’t understand.