Special Category of Hero (Issue #475)

Tom Brokaw wrote an introduction to the coffee table book called Medal of Honor containing portraits of Medal winners some years ago. In it he recounts the arbitrary sort of way that veterans may be regarded by their government or fellow citizens depending upon the time in history. Veterans know this better than most, because a distance of inches or time measured in seconds is often the dividing line twixt life and death on the battlefield, or even in training. Timing is everything as they say. Being at the right time and place makes all the difference. Even mistakes, all but inevitable, will figure in to how things turn out. A mistake or shortcoming can evoke guilt in some, ironic gratitude in others. Veterans of the Korean Conflict were, according to Brokaw, “caught in the backwater of World War II.” Americans were so preoccupied with their own lives at that point that the bloody conflict received very little public attention. Then as we were consumed by the assassination of President Kennedy and the terrible social and political upheavals that followed in the sixties and seventies, to include bitter divide over the Viet Nam War itself, regard for the veteran and his sacrifice actually receded. It stayed sour to some degree until after the First Gulf War.




There are also family members or friends one may know, who may or may not have been veterans, but who are or were bigger than life characters. The fact that no one knows them makes it no less of the truth. God keeps the full and complete record. History is poorly written, even at its best. Most soldiers, sailors, airmen, marines and coastguardsmen serve and sacrifice nearly anonymously. In a similar way, the politics swirling before, during and after every conflict or engagement, and constant these days throughout every tour of duty, remains a separate reality, unimpressive for the most part, subordinate certainly to the daily tasks and the military missions of all who serve in uniform—with the possible exception of some top brass, who have to answer to the civilian political leadership! When there is a civil-military dispute, the top brass voice their concern or position to political leaders, but then support and implement whatever decision is duly and legally reached. If disagreements are fundamental or some political embarrassment ensues, top brass may very well have to resign—but this is far preferable, so that the bulk of forces remains insulated from all the furious tempests in teapots that have nothing to do with the proximity of life and death issues in a day’s work, or the short and long-term physical wellbeing of men and women defending our nation.



Defense of American’s homes and Homeland remains paramount under any circumstance, disagreement or no, just as every man and woman who joins the armed services swears to support and defend the Constitution of the United States of America against all enemies foreign and domestic. The American fighting man or woman is a thinking man or woman too. The special category of hero we cultivate, and sometimes celebrate knows what he is doing, or at least knows in advance what he might do if the training and conditioning kick in. American heroes show forth more moral courage than animal courage. The American soldier who wields his weapon is as deadly, say, as the Hun was in his day—but they are not the same equivalent moral agents, even if sentimentality and an immediate reference to the civilized order must wane until the blood cools and safety will allow it.



American veterans comprise a special category of hero precisely because of who they were going into military service. In a democratic-republic such as ours, the young recruit represents us going in. He or she represents the collective responsibility we share to protect and defend our way of life. So we send our best, and we literally send our hope—out of the city, off the farm, from small towns and neighborhoods they go. Frequently they delay college or their career, and place young family life on hold, or else put it through the lonely hardship of separation. The new recruit represents every citizen, indeed he is a surrogate for the same: to bear the assigned risk; to meet the many challenges, to accomplish the mission, to master skill and craft, to face the enemy. And so, notwithstanding an exquisite execution of violence or the longsuffering execution of mundane duties, the American veteran is heroic, who returns home bringing the same good he brought into service back with him. Indeed, he often packs more of a positive nature and value in his rucksack than what he at first had, in terms of those hallmark signs of military service: maturity, discipline, self-confidence, teamwork, learning and yes, even humanity.