Thank Goodness It's Monday #434

“THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE”

(AND WHAT THAT MIGHT REALLY MEAN)

“Let us be true to our democratic ideals, not by the utterance of cheap platitudes, not by windy oratory, but by living in such a manner as to show that democracy can be efficient in promoting the public welfare during periods of peace and efficient in securing national freedom in time of war.”

 

Theodore Roosevelt (1858-1919)

26^thPresident

It’s become a bit of commonplace to acknowledge our living military veterans with the phrase, “Thank you for your service.”

 

And I’m OK with the idea of sharing that sentiment … somewhat.

Why the hesitation? My discomfort with the “Thank you for your service” acknowledgement came fully to roost several years ago.

That’s when a new networking acquaintance said it when introduced for the first time to another longer-time networking buddy, who recently returned from an 8-month tour in Afghanistan.

 

And at first I thought –

 

That’s nice. A stranger acknowledging a peer who has chosen a path outside the for-profit world that we were networking about. Without knowing anything about my Army Reserve friend’s trials and tribulations, his dedication was recognized.

But then I thought: Has “Thank you for your service” become –

Lip service? Has it devolved into a quickly uttered phrase as lacking in sincerity and genuineness as, say, the automatic greeting “Pleased to meet you” has become?

Partial conclusion: Maybe not in the networking-at-lunch group instance I’ve cited.

But, unfortunately, maybe so in the world at large.

The lunchtime discussion that followed didn’t do much to put to rest that nagging notion.

So, with the goal of resolving my mixed feelings somewhat (writing focuses your thinking), and giving us subject matter worth considering on a day set aside to pay tribute to the service of our veterans, I’d like to take a whack at it in this TGIM.

 

The lunchtime networking progressed as usual: One-minute intros, a round of updates, referral thank-yous and such. Then our custom is to go around the table again and ask, “Who has a question for Geoff … a question for Joe … a question for Rick …etc.”

 

And since it was clear that our Reservist buddy was the hot new item that day, we began with questions for him.

 

And we stayed with him for the rest of the lunchtime.

 

He answered politely and with candor. His one-man’s-view was enlightening. 

• He compared his most recent experiences to previous tours in both Iraq and Afghanistan.
• He was open about sharing and spoke frankly about heightened expectations and his frontline perception of the military’s ability to deliver on those expectations.
• Given the many stumbling blocks placed in the path of accomplishing the mission as it evolved, he felt he and his comrades were doing an exemplary job.
• And he was clear in his mind about the delineation between the military and civilian/political aspects of bringing affairs to a close.

But here’s the real point. Perhaps the most thought-stimulating thing our serviceman had to say at lunchtime was this:

He was truly irritated at what he felt was the lack of accurate reporting about the facts and activities in far away areas of engagement.

He observed that as he drove to meet us, when he turned to the “all-news-all-the-time” radio stations, the top stories and breaking news concerned – 

• Lindsay Lohan’s missed bail hearing.
• And Snooki from “Jersey Shore.”

What he wanted to know more about: That day was May 20, 2010. On May 19 insurgents launched a 3 a.m. attack on Bagram Air Base in a confrontation that finally subsided at midday. The Bagram attack came a day after a suicide bomber struck a U.S. convoy in Kabul, killing 18.

Our reservist’s thoughts and his concerns were largely focused – as much of ours should have been -- on our country’s involvement and the world view.

Yet Lindsay Lohan grabbed the headlines. 

 

What Were We Thinking?

What ARE We Thinking?

 

Observing Veteran’s Day has devolved into grim-faced political speechifying and posturing topped with a goodly chunk of hoo-hah touting accelerating-into-the-holiday-season sales at the mall.

Then it’s “goodbye and good luck” and on to the next news cycle.

 

Are these the sincere expressions of “Thank you for your service” to the living and dead that at least some part of observing Veteran’s Day should be about?

I think not.

 

So here’s my TGIM vote for making this Veteran’s Day observance --

A bit more meaningful: If we’re going to be quick to thank people for their service, we owe them – and ourselves – the most complete understanding of the situation that we can muster. As with so much in this life, we can’t passively wait to have the facts served to us.

 

The experience of our reservist buddy on his way to our network lunch makes it clear --

The obligation is on us. In the world of attention-grabbing Lindsay and Snooki celebrity and its 2013 equivalent -- some personal effort is required.

 

VETERAN’S DAY 2013 ACTION IDEA #1: Take it on. Do your part. Initiate inquiry into important things. In all things, stretch yourself to find truthful information. Be proactive. Seek wisdom. Discuss. And get understanding. Then act on that understanding.

Then you can honestly move ahead with –

 

VETERAN’S DAY 2013 ACTION IDEA #2: From your place of understanding, mean it when you say “Thank you for your service.”

Thanks for your service, Rick -- and all, past and present, who have earned honors on Veteran’s Day.

 

And thanks to you for making time today for this TGIM. Wisely make the most of the rest of the day.

 

Geoff Steck
Chief Catalyst
Alexander Publishing & Marketing

8 Depot Square

Englewood, NJ 07631
201-569-5373

tgimguy@gmail.com  

P.S. On page 28 of his “Notebook F No. 1” 1836-1840 the always-insightful Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882) recorded: 

Serve self you serve society.

Serve society serve yourself.

Thank Goodness It's Monday #382

VENERABLE MEN (AND WOMEN)

A VETERAN REFLECTS

ON VETERANS DAY

I did not give uniformed service to our country in the youthful days when I might have been most valued for it. 

So I believe Veterans Day doesn’t evoke the response in me that it does for those who gave over a portion of their life – or in the families of those who died – in the Armed Forces. 

Actually, I struggle with very ambivalent feelings on Veterans Day. 

·        My father did his duty as part of “the greatest generation.” And I recall, even as a child, I was proud to see his name on the hometown monument honoring veterans of World War II and moved by the idea that his name was among the lucky service men without a star next to it denoting their having made the ultimate sacrifice in service.

·        On what may be the other side of the emotional equation, I am a draft card carrier from the Vietnam era who, by some quirks of fate, was never called upon to choose a course of action other than military service. Had I been, I can’t honestly say what I might have done. I know I lost a number of friends in that conflict, both to death and trauma. The Memorial Wall in Washington DC never ceases to move me in indescribable and complex ways.

These are things I normally hold close. But today I share them with you in TGIM because a recent little editorial “opinion” in our local weekly giveaway newspaper, penned by Ed Flynn, a regular contributor whose writing and insight I often enjoy, encapsulated much of the ambivalence I suspect many feel.

I’d like to believe his view fairly says what I (and perhaps others) am challenged to articulate. 

And Ed has earned the right to say it.

Here it is, in its entirety.

****

Ed Flynn

 I always feel a bit guilty on Veterans Day.

Like many other veterans, particularly those who have seen combat, when I remember the dead and wounded – as we’re supposed to do on Veterans Day – I can’t help but wonder; why them and not me?

In my case, I spent two years in the Pacific during World War II.

Most of that time was with the Seventh Fleet as a radioman aboard an amphibious flagship overseeing landings in the Philippines and other Pacific islands.

While we faced constant Japanese attacks from the air -- and while several ships near us were hit and sunk, and we were strafed several times ourselves -- our peril was nothing compared to that of the Marines and soldiers we put ashore on those beaches.

More than 400,000 Americans, mostly young boys like me in their late teens or early 20s, never came home from that war, giving their life for our freedom on some Pacific island or European battlefield.

I came home.

I had married before I went overseas to the wonderful girl who would be my wife for the next 66 years until I lost her two years ago.

We bought our first home in River Edge NJ with a G.I. mortgage; and we had two beautiful daughters who grew up to give us three grandchildren who, in turn, gave us six great-grandchildren.

Like most families, we had our trials and tribulations in the course of those years.

It wasn’t always easy but, for the most part, it was a good life, without the tragedies some other families have had to face.

We had a life that those who died during our nation’s wars never had a chance to live.

Now I’m 90 years old and living alone, forced by arthritis to use a walker to get around, dependent on my children and grandchildren to perform tasks for me that once seemed so simple.

Sometimes it’s hard not to feel sorry for myself.

But, then I reflect on all the good years I’ve had, thanks to those who never came home, those whose life ended when they were young -- not just in World War II, but in World War I and Korea, and Vietnam, and now in Iraq and Afghanistan.

I thank those who are buried in some cemetery in Normandy where poppies grow, or whose bodies were returned home in a flag-draped coffin to be interned here; to those to whom politicians and other orators pay tribute on Veterans Day.

In World War II, more than 16 million Americans were in uniform.

Tiny flags were displayed in the windows of almost every home. A blue star indicated that the boy who lived there was now in service; a gold star indicated that he would never return home.

The whole country was mobilized during World War II; women worked in factories helping to produce tanks and planes; children collected scrap that could be turned into bullets; gasoline and food were rationed; everyone sacrificed.

Today, there are more than 60,000 members of our volunteer armed forces in Afghanistan and elsewhere.

But, here at home, you would never know we are at war.

Most families are untouched by the struggle against terrorism. For most, life goes on as usual.

There is no draft, no rationing; in fact, no call for sacrifice.

And, so on this Veterans Day, while you’re enjoying a barbecue, eating a hot dog or downing a cold beer, you might pause and ask yourself, "Why them?"

Why not your own son, or daughter, or grandchild?

And, the next time you hear someone loudly proclaiming how we should put "boots on the ground" in order to overthrow some foreign dictator, you might want to ask them, "Whose boots?"

While you’re at it, you might try to find the time to attend a parade or a memorial service – if there is one in your community anymore – and say thanks to a veteran.

Not that the average veteran is looking for thanks, but he or she will still appreciate the fact that someone cares.

Click this to link to the original article.

****

I care, Ed Flynn. 

I’m confident my circle of TGIM friends cares as well. 

Thank you, one and all.

Geoff Steck   
Chief Catalyst
Alexander Publishing & Marketing

8 Depot Square

Englewood, NJ 07631
201-569-5373
tgimguy@gmail.com

P. S. In 1825 at the laying of the corner stone for the Bunker Hill Monument, Daniel Webster, perhaps the most famous orator of the day, was to make the day’s most significant speech. The crowd estimated at 50,000 included perhaps two hundred gray-haired men, remnants of the days of the Revolution.

Daniel Webster
with the Bunker Hill Monument
in the background

Among them stood some forty scarred and time-worn veterans who had actually shared in the bloody conflict they now gathered to commemorate. 

As Webster passed these forty in the crowd, it’s reported his voice trembled as he uttered the words –

“Venerable men.”

 

Addressing the veterans directly he also said: “Our poor work may perish, but thine shall endure:  this monument may moulder away, the solid ground it rests upon may sink down to the level of the sea; but thy memory shall not fail. Wherever among men a heart shall be found that beats to the transports of patriotism and liberty, its aspirations shall claim kindred with thy spirit!”