What is a Vet?
You can't tell a vet just by looking.
He's the cop on the beat that spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating 2 gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carrier didn't run out of fuel.
He is the barroom loudmouth whose frat-boy behavior is outweighed on the cosmic scales by four hours of unparalleled bravery near the 38th Parallel in Korea.
She is the nurse who fought against futility in Da Nang and went to sleep sobbing every night for two solid years.
He is the POW who went away one person and came back another.
He is the drill instructor that has never seen combat, but has saved countless lives by turning lazy no-accounts into Marines and teaching them to watch each other's backs.
He is the parade-riding legionnaire who pins his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand.
He is the white-haired old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket, ever so slow, who helped liberate a Nazi death camp.
A vet is an ordinary and extraordinary human being – someone who offered his life's most vital years in the service of his country. He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and nothing more than the finest, greatest, testimony on behalf of the finest, greatest nation ever known. We will never be able to repay the debt of gratitude we owe.
From Tom in Tacoma, Wash
Posted in the Ann Landers advice column on Nov. 11, 1999