Tag: veterans-day

Armistice Day

November 11th, 2026

Today is Veterans Day, and I am a vet. So, is my oldest son. I always struggle a bit with this day. I sent my son a text this morning, “I hope you have a good Veterans Day.” I don’t what else to say to him. It’s not a festive day. It’s a day of remembrance, and some of things about being a vet are painful to recall.

I took my grandson, Asher, to kindergarten this morning. He goes to the Tamarack Waldorf School in Milwaukee. Waldorf is an alternative educational system that tends to attract an eclectic population. The school has a serious hippie vibe to it. As I stood with Asher waiting for class to start, it occurred to me that I was probably the only veteran in the entire school community.

I mentioned this to the assistant teacher in Asher’s class. She told me that her husband is a vet. He went to Iraq like my son did, and he came out of it with PTSD just like my son did. Asher’s teacher doesn’t know what to say to her spouse on Veterans Day. She doesn’t want to tell him, “Thank you for your service.” A lot of vets don’t really like to hear that. I don’t and neither does my son. She finally told me that on Veterans Day she prays for all those soldiers who came home damaged. There are plenty of folks for whom she can pray.

Part of my problem with Veterans Day is that there is a certain moral ambiguity that goes along with being a vet. I remember back when I was a plebe at West Point, fifty years ago, I was told that by definition a military officer was “an expert in the management of violence”. That means my job was to hurt people. I wrestled with that idea for a decade before I finally got out of the Army. After I got out, I was active in the peace movement. Most people in the group welcomed my participation, but not all of them. A few people were not at all impressed that I was a veteran. One of them told me flat out,

“You are an accomplice to murder.”

Okay then. In a way that’s true. I never killed anybody, but I was there to help with task. I have also been told that every American who pays taxes that fund the U.S. military is responsible for our nation’s wars. As citizens we are participants in the current war against Iran, willingly or not.

I mentioned to Asher’s teacher that Veterans Day was originally called “Armistice Day”. It is on November 11th because that is the day that the First World War ended. The day was set aside by Allied countries to remember those soldiers who fought in the Great War, and it was also a day to resolve never to fight such a war again. The day was as much about the return of peace as it was about all the people who died in a cataclysmic war.

The First World War was horrific in a truly senseless way. WWII gets more publicity than WWI, but that’s because the Second World War seems more heroic. WWI was just mindless carnage. Read any book about the war (e.g. All Quiet of the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque, or 1914 by Solzhenitsyn, or The Good Soldier Schweik by Jaroslav Hasek), and you will see how hideous and insane that war was. It destroyed most of Europe and set the stage for the Holocaust and Hiroshima. Those who survived WWI never wanted to fight like that again.

Of course, in the end they did. And, of course, we still do.

On Armistice Day people made an effort to work for peace in addition to remembering sacrifices of soldiers. On Veterans Day the focus has shifted. We honor those who served in the military, but it seems that we no longer strive for peace.

I prefer Armistice Day.

There is Always a First Time

November 11th, 2025

I got a haircut today. In a way, getting a trim is kind of pointless for me. There isn’t much hair left to cut. However, the little bit of hair that is still on my head was looking scruffy, so I decided to a “hair salon”, which is basically a fancy name for a barber shop that pays its stylists low wages.

I wound up waiting quite a while to get a cut. I couldn’t understand why the place was so busy. Then I saw a seemingly endless parade of old guys staggering into the salon to get vouchers from free haircuts. It didn’t click in my mind why the shop was giving out vouchers until I noticed that a lot of old men were wearing caps with military insignia. Suddenly, I remembered that today was Veterans Day. A long line of elderly vets stood in line, many of them leaning heavily on their canes, and waited to get a freebie.

I got out of the Army in August of 1986. I became a veteran at that point, but to the best of my recollection, I have never taken advantage of any of the Veterans Day benefits. I am not sure why I always avoided the handouts. Maybe I was too proud, and or maybe I just didn’t want to flaunt the fact that I had served. It always seemed kind of tacky. It seems like on one day each year, people momentarily recognize that others sacrificed something to serve our country. A few of those people who are aware of the service that veterans gave to them try to give something back. What is given to vets is usually not very much: a haircut, a free breakfast, something that can qualify as a tax write off. I just didn’t want any of that.

I finally got called up for my haircut. The lady that cut my hair knows my head, if not my history. She knows that my needs are simple. All I want is for her to use a clipper with a Number 2 guard all the way around my noggin. I sat down and she put the chair cloth around me. I told her,

“For what it’s worth, I am vet.”

She shrugged and replied, “Thanks for your service.”

I said, “I flew helicopters. That was a long time ago.”

She smiled and told me, “It doesn’t matter how long ago it was. The important thing is that you served.”

She mentioned that a cousin of hers had been a military pilot and now flew for Flight for Life as a civilian. We talked about flying for a while. Then I spoke to her about my son who was deployed in Iraq. She told me about her nephew who had also been in Iraq. Her nephew wanted to get into the Rangers, but he got in a serious motorcycle accident and had a brain injury. He had memory loss, but somehow still remembered enough bad stuff from Iraq to have PTSD.

Our conversation was brief. It doesn’t take long for a stylist to give me a buzz cut and trim my eyebrows. She had me check out her work with a mirror and then pulled the cloth off me. I got up and walked to the counter. She did something on her computer and said,

“The haircut was on us. You don’t have to pay anything.”

This was my first time getting anything for free on Veterans Day. I pulled out my wallet anyway. She still deserved a big tip.