May I Salute You?

Provided by my friend Maj Bob: From Hoot Gibson


Thank you Captain Salwei,
Yes, you may and I will snap a smart salute in return.
Bob, Pops, G'Pa

A point of view

By Patricia Salwei

I approached the entrance to Fort Belvoir’s medical facility last year
as an old veteran puttered towards me. Easily over 80 years old,
stooped and slow, I barely gave him a second glance because on his
heels was a full bird colonel.

As they approached, I rendered a sharp salute and barked, “Good
morning, Sir!” Because they were heel to toe, I began my salute as
the old veteran was about two paces from me. He immediately came to
life!

Transformed by my greeting, he rose to his full height, returned my
salute with pride, and exclaimed, “Good morning Captain!” I was
startled, but the full bird behind him was flabbergasted. The
colonel stopped mid-salute, smiled at me and quietly moved on.

As I entered the clinic, the utter beauty of the encounter preoccupied
me. What prompted the old man to assume that I was saluting him.
Perhaps he just thought, “It’s about time!” After all, doesn't a
veteran outrank us all? I turned my attention to the waiting room
taking a moment to survey the veterans there. Service people rushed
around, loudspeakers blared, the bell for the prescription window kept
ringing. It was a whirl of activity and the older veterans sat
quietly on the outside seemingly out of step, patiently waiting to be
seen. Nobody was seeing.

My old friend stayed on my mind. I began to pay attention to the
military’s attitude towards its veterans. I witnessed indifference:
Impatient soldiers and airmen plowing over little old ladies at the
commissary; I noticed my own agitation as an older couple cornered me
at the Officer’s Club and began reminiscing about their tour in
Germany.

To our disgrace, I have also witnessed disdain: At Ramstein Air Base
terminal, an airman was condescending and borderline cruel with a deaf
veteran flying Space Available; An ancient woman wearing a WACS button
was shoved aside by a cadet at the Women’s Memorial dedication in
D.C.; A member of the color guard turned away in disgust from a drunk
Vietnam vet trying to talk to him before the Veteran’s Day Ceremony at
the Vietnam War Memorial.

Have you been to a ceremony at the Wall lately? How about a Veteran’s
Day parade in a small town? The crowds are growing faint. Why do we
expect the general public to care if we don't? We are getting
comfortable again.

It is not my intention to minimize the selfless service of our modern
military; my comrades are the greatest people I know. But lately I'm
wondering if the public’s attitude towards the military isn't just a
reflection of the active duty military’s attitude towards its own
veterans.

It’s time to ask -- do we regard them, do we consider them at all?
How does our attitude change when the hero is no longer wearing a
uniform?

I was proud to wear my uniform. Can I admit that I thought it was
cool? There is no denying that there is something about our
profession, combined with youth, that feeds the ego a little.

We have all seen a young pilot strut into the Officer’s Club with his
flight suit on. He matters; he takes on the room; he knows he can
take on the world. But, one day he will leave his jet for a desk, and
eventually he will have to hang up that flight suit. A super hero
hanging up his cape. How will we measure his value then? He will no
longer look like a pilot, an officer, a colonel. He'll just look like
an old man coming out of the clinic with his prescription.

But, he is he less of a hero? Will anybody remember or care about all
the months he spent away from his newborn daughter while making peace
a possibility in the Balkans? Probably not.

Our society has a short memory. Maybe it is not for the protected to
understand. Rather, it is my hope that when a young lieutenant walks
by him they will each see themselves reflected in the other – one’s
future, the other’s past. In that moment, perhaps, the lieutenant
will also see the hero, now disguised as an old man, and thank him.

The truth is there are heroes in disguise everywhere. I used to
wonder why people would want to chat with me when I was in uniform,
telling me about their four years as a radio operator in Korea. So
what? I wasn't impressed relative to my own experiences. Now I
understand that they were telling me because nobody else cared. Proud
of their service, no matter how limited, and still in love with our
country, they were trying to stay connected. Their stories were a
code for “I understand and appreciate you, can you appreciate me?”
The answer is yes.

I separated from the military in February. I'm out of the club.
Still, I want you to know that I'll attend the parades, visit the
memorials, and honor you while my kids and your kids are watching.

Then, maybe someday when I'm an old woman riding the metro, a young
airman will take a moment of her time to listen to one of my war
stories. I, in turn, will soak in her beauty and strength, and
remember.

Today as I reflect on my adventures in the Air Force, I'm thinking of
that ancient warrior I collided with at Fort Belvoir. I'm wondering
where he is, if he’s still alive, if it’s too late to thank him. I
want to start a campaign in his honor – Salute a Veteran. Yes, this
started out as a misunderstanding on my part. But, now I get it.
That day was the first time in my life that I really understood what
it meant to salute someone.

Dear veteran, I recognize and hail you! I do understand what I have
and what you have given to make it possible. So I'm wondering if we
meet on the street again…may I salute you?