Commentary By Adam Smith

The North Jefferson News



I had the unique pleasure of attending Fultondale’s Veterans’ Day ceremony on Monday morning.

If you’ve never been to one, I strongly suggest attending any future events.

The ceremony itself was a somber but patriotic affair, complete with the singing of the National Anthem, “God Bless America” and other patriotic music, courtesy of the Fultondale High School marching band.

In the midst of honoring veterans for their sacrifices, I found myself thinking about military service in general and the military service of my forefathers.

Like every other high school kid, I took the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Batter (ASVAB) test as a teenager. I took the test to get out of having to sit through half a day’s worth of class, which to me, was a worthy sacrifice. Normally I hated taking any kind of standardized tests, but these questions were about jeep repair, guns and helicopters.

After I graduated, my parents’ phone rang off the hook from various military recruiters, who realized I was at least smart enough to fill in my name on the test, so I might have a career in the military.

However, while both of my grandfathers and my father had served stints in the military, I had my sights set on other things like college, music and girls. “But if you join the Army, we’ll pay for your tuition,” they told me. It seemed like a good deal, but I figured I could still go to college without having to go through months of basic training and being known as “Maggot” to some angry drill sergeant.

My dad never described life as a Marine as a particularly rosy period in his life, and my grandfather seldom talked about serving in World War II. I never knew my dad’s father, so I don’t know what his outlook on the military experience would have been.

My dad mostly talked about being called “Maggot” and having to eat within a short time frame. My dad was lucky enough to have never seen wartime action, as he served in the early 1960s during a period of relative calm.

My few memories of my grandfather talking about his war experience revolved around hunting when he had the chance and how damp and cold England was. He was the only survivor in a plane crash which left him seriously injured. Of course, he never talked about that much and I couldn’t blame him.

Most veterans will probably tell you unless you’ve been through it, you can never understand it. I believe that completely.

Most of what the average American knows about war is what we see in big budget Hollywood movies shot on a soundstage or in Canada.

In the 1960s, news crews filmed from the front lines bringing the Vietnam war into the living rooms. Today, Americans can find war coverage on a multitude of Internet sites and 24-hour television news. You can even pick your slant, be it liberal or conservative.

However, no matter how broad, slanted or detailed the coverage may be, most Americans don’t know what it’s like to be in a foreign land fighting for their lives and their freedom.

The war in Iraq is polarizing. However, it shouldn’t detract from the bigger picture. Serving in the Middle East are sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, cousins, fathers, mothers, aunts, uncles and even some grandparents. Those same people have to hold a machine gun, fly a plane or helicopter, drop bombs and make decisions that most Americans will never have to make.

Time will tell if the war in Iraq was a just cause and it’s certainly not for me to decide. However, the men who are fighting today will one day be veterans and they’ll share that prestigious title with millions of men who fought before them, all the way back to the Revolutionary War.

By the time you read this, it won’t be Veterans’ Day. However, it’s never too late to think about the sacrifices fighting men and women have made and still make. And while you’re thinking about those sacrifices, you might want to thank them for their service and for their commitment to keeping our country safe and free. I know I do.