Thank You for Your Service

CDR, JAGC, USN

Readers of a certain age will understand when I say that the public’s attitude toward the military has changed. When I began active duty in 1971 as a Navy JAG officer, the nation was in the midst of the largest anti-war movement in our history. There had been years of pacifist marches, resistance to the military draft, and unrest on college campuses (including the burning of ROTC buildings).

The angry mood was inflamed when unarmed student protesters were killed by National Guard troops at Kent State University 47 years ago this month:

Richard Nixon’s promise to bring the troops home was a factor in his narrow victory over Hubert Humphrey in the 1968 election, but it wasn’t until 1973 that the last combat troops left Vietnam. My college roommate, who served as a Navy officer onboard ship during the war, recalls that when he flew back to the States his military bus from Travis AFB to San Francisco was attacked by protesters. “We were literally stoned,” Rick says. “Stoned! We had to duck down and change out of our uniforms so we could sneak off the bus and meld into the crowd.”

Not everyone shared this anti-military, anti-war sentiment, of course, but some of it was still festering during my last four years of active duty in the late 70s. I was stationed in the DC area, and we were under orders not to wear the uniform except one day a week or for special occasions. This was to maintain a low military profile ... in the nation's capital, of all places.

But soon, attitudes began to change. Rick remembers a poignant incident when he was on the way to a summer Naval Reserve training assignment a few years later. "I was in uniform, in an airport, waiting for my plane. I went to the bar and ordered a beer. When the waitress brought it, she told me it was compliments of the gentleman at the end of the bar. I went over to thank the guy, but he replied, 'Don't thank me; I need to thank you. You went to Vietnam instead of me.'"

That kind of appreciative sentiment started to take hold during the Reagan years (1981-89), and a generation later it seems firmly established, so much so that today we veterans receive thanks. And almost daily we see heartwarming scenes of servicemembers returning home to their families or paraded out at sporting events for the singing of the national anthem.

Here in San Diego—still very much a military town—veterans are asked to stand and be recognized at the start of Padres games. At first I was uncomfortable with this practice. I had only joined the Navy to avoid being drafted into the Army, and in fact I got an induction notice five days after I signed with the Navy recruiter. The Navy program gave me a draft deferment for law school, obliged me to serve for four years, and kept me out of combat. Eventually I "sailed" a Navy desk for eight years of active duty, all of them "state-side."

So when I went to my first Padres game in the new stadium five years ago, I didn't feel I deserved the recognition veterans were asked to stand for. As Rick says, "At one time I was treated as if I were a pariah, and then it changed to being treated like a hero. In reality, I was neither one."

Like Rick, I too was neither one. I merely did what I could do to keep from being the target of enemy fire. I don't deserve anyone's thanks. It is I who should thank the Navy.

But I do stand at Padres games. I've come to realize that the offer of recognition is not so much about my and other veterans' service as it is about the country's desire, subconscious though it may be, to atone for the years in which service personnel—many of whom did not agree with the politicians' decision to go to war—were subjects of scorn and contempt.

Somewhere between the abuse Rick and I and others felt 45 years ago and the veneration the military receives today lies a proper level of appreciation. I guess it is summed up with this simple, oft-repeated phrase: "Thank you for your service."