An Open Letter to Veterans Past, Present and Future 

         by Dixie A. Walter

     Just like everyone else, I was raised among veterans. I was also lucky enough, like many of you, to be related to and/or know men who fought World War I. It seems like forever since I last spoke to a veteran from that era, and with good reason. As of May 2001 there were just 144 veterans of World War I left on the
Compensation and Pension Rolls.
    We have lost a generation of people who kept the memories of that time alive. Memories of the veterans of “the war to end all wars” become dimmer and dimmer, until one day they will seem as shadowy as Civil War veterans.
    Although people of my generation were children during World War II, and I was raised in the military, I was relatively untouched by the excruciating reality of war until Viet Nam, which is now called the “Viet Nam era.”
     During the Korean War, still referred to as a “conflict,” I lived in Puerto Rico. At the time Korea seemed many worlds away. I vaguely knew there was a war, or that my uncle Arne Haynes, also a veteran of World War II, was there. We had no television, just a base radio station, and at certain times the popular radio shows of the era. Then it was finally over, and that seemed to be that.
    Nearly all the men on base in Puerto Rico were World War II veterans. They didn’t talk much about Korea or any war for that matter. They were filled up with war, which is undoubtedly why so many of them partied and partied like there was no tomorrow. The biggest war in the history of the planet was still raw in their minds. And the true horrors of the war never really left them. Many lived to be a ripe old age, and fought the war even on their deathbeds.
    My stepfather, Don Rulien, a bombardier and navigator with  the 310^th Bomb Group assigned to the 379th Bomb Squadron in Africa, was shot down over Italy in August 1943, and taken prisoner of war for a short time. After escaping, Don was missing in action for about a year.
    In front of me is the Western Union telegram all loved ones at home dreaded, “I regret to inform you…your son is missing in action…” As much as they feared the telegram, “missing in action” left some hope Don did survive. Not everyone had such a dramatic story and yet his story sometimes paled against the misery of others.
    We lived a rather peaceful life. But a place we had never heard of became, as years passed, the longest war. The young people in my daughter, Yatie’s, generation, now in their early forties, never knew a world without the constant daily reports of dead and dying young men during the Viet Nam War. It wasn’t until they were in high school and the war ended that these kids realized there could be a world without continuous body counts.
     In the past week I heard of polls taken at various American universities showing two out of three students support a war with Iraq. A direct contrast to campuses during Viet Nam. I’m not sure these polls are accurate because kids who haven’t experienced our country at war have no empirical data.
     As I was reading the overwhelming numbers of dead mounting from the Revolutionary War to the Gulf War, I heard the cable news channels repeatedly telling us over 200,000 troops are getting ready to move toward Iraq.
    Yet everyone - reporters, anchors, politicians, military brass - to a person, are pretending there isn’t going to be a war if Saddam buckles under. We all know full well he won’t. War with Iraq is coming soon, so let’s stop acting as if it may not happen. Reality isn’t pretty, but does everyone have to treat us like we are just plain stupid and can’t face reality?
     This is a war that prudent generals say will not be a “milk run” with few American casualties like Afghanistan. The old warriors say it will be hand-to-hand combat in the streets of Baghdad, very personal. If they are correct this may very well be the last Veteran’s Day in some time when our country is relatively at peace. Yes, I know there’s “a war on terrorism.” But the impact of that “war” hasn’t personally touched many millions of us. A prolonged war in Iraq could touch many, many more Americans.
      So to all of the veterans who fought for me, and you, and to all the young Americans who will soon become war veterans, I say “Thank you.” Thank you for putting your life on the line so I have the freedom to say and write what I feel. Thank you for putting your life on the line so I may vote. Thank you for going through the nightmares of hell for decades so my lovely, four-year-old, Jewish granddaughter doesn’t face a gas chamber.
     Veteran’s Day began as Armistice Day to pay tribute to the veterans of World War I. Today we pay tribute to all who served, and serve, in the military. I sincerely hope the young fighters in all branches of service don’t come home from Iraq to eternal rest.

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