The Non-Symbol Symbols of the Military Return Ceremony

I’d like to talk about a common sight in military towns. It is a ceremony that always lends itself to a particular vocabulary. It is the military return ceremony.

The military “coming home” ceremony became increasingly common during the decade-long war on terror. Unlike previous wars, these ceremonies took place in a time of social media and increased media presence. Due to this, rituals of “coming home” and reintegration played out for the all-seeing and mostly uncritical eyes of television.

Soldiers as individuals became separated from the politics of the war, while maintaining the nationalistic afterglow of being warriors. This separation is crucial. The individual soldier is maintained in the middle ground, separated both from politics and from the common civilian. There are elements of ceremony that serve to create this distinction.

The ceremony itself usually follows these lines: families, friends, businessmen, politicians, and news crews wait in a semi-public space. For active-duty servicemen, this will often be in a military setting — on an Army base or in a hangar.

For National Guardsmen, the setting may be different, more civilian — an auditorium perhaps, or inside a gymnasium. Everyone waits. The soldiers are kept away. They are on buses on a slow route. The wait is almost meant to be agonizing, a small representation of the months the soldier was away. Finally, the soldiers return, but they are not allowed to be with their families yet. Instead, they are held in formation by their military command.

The contrast is stark: all these servicemembers (primarily men) in uniform, and a large number of family members (primarily women) in civilian dress. The commander stands before the formation and gives a speech that uses several generic themes: welcome home, good job, remember sacrifice, etc. Another official of some sort may talk as well. Only after these speeches can the soldiers reunite with their families.

The ideal return ritual politicizes war by de-politicizing the soldier. Here’s an example of another way this is done: A 2011 Budwesier commercial, “Coming Home,” shows a member of the Army calling his brother and telling him that he is coming home from deployment. The screen is split. On the left side, the soldier walks and sleeps while on a long journey via plane and bus and car. On the right side, his brother calls family and prepares decorations.

The climax of the commercial removes the split screen and takes the two brothers into one shot as they hug and reunite at a barn party with the words, “Welcome Home,” on a sign strung with lights.

The scene has elements of family, and vague but fervent patriotism. The soldier is a soldier but he is not a person. Rather, he is a symbol, a cipher for a general sentiment, commodified for use in a beer commercial. “Proudly serving those who serve” is probably as political a statement as one gets in a return home ceremony.

In this way, conversation about what’s going on is muted. Soldiers become a symbol, something they aren’t quite are, but come close to becoming. The military becomes something confined to this space, and once the ceremony is over, they cease to be soldiers, but become through this ritual, veterans.