This has kinda been eating at me all day.
I enlisted in the army in 1984, when I was seventeen, and stayed in the delayed entry program for eight months, before going off to basic training.
After basic, I was sent to DLI (Defense Language Institute) to learn Korean, and before I left, I tested out of German as well, after a little studying and having had four years in high school.
After DLI, I went to Goodfellow AFB for my AIT – 98C, Signals Intelligence Analyst. And then on to permanent party with the 732nd MI battalion at Field Station Kunia (the Tunnel), Hawaii.
It was ‘peace-time’, but our mission was a live one - Kunia being manned 24/ 7. What was happening was really happening. Maybe I was being an ignorant kid, but I took my job seriously. While I might not have had to ever use a weapon against another person, the information I disseminated would get sent out the guys (like my older brother) that were in those positions. They needed to able to trust that the information was accurate. Maybe it would even save a life? Or was I just being silly?
That said, it really was a cushy assignment. The powers that were, decided that our jobs were incredibly stressful, so our barracks had all the amenities – big rooms, private bathrooms, heat/ ac, cable, phones. We only had to do PT once per week. Other than officers and Top, rank didn’t matter for anything but pay purposes, as our job description were the same.
Well, this morning I stopped at the donut shop on my way into work. Figured, being a vet, I’d get me a free Krispy Kreme. There were a number of other vets in the store, and everyone’s trading stories of their time in service – I was, too. A man, a couple people behind me in line heard my little story and got a little bent out of shape.
Apparently, I should be ashamed of myself and my choices regarding my military service. I shouldn’t be allowed to wield the ‘veteran’ moniker. I wasn’t in the real military, I was in Club-Med. I never saw combat, never had to deal with the kinds of conditions he experienced in Vietnam. Never had to trust another with my life, etc, etc.
All of it was, pretty much, true. I didn’t do any of those things. Maybe I wasn’t ‘lucky’ enough to have served during a conflict, never had the 'opportunity' to point and fire a weapon at another, never had to endure inhumane living conditions – and I thank God and every service member before me for that. But I did serve.
Am I a vet?