Please Stop Saying, “Thank You For Your Service.”

It amplifies the embarrassing memories

I had been in Somalia for a couple of months, I think, our primary mission to provide security for food distribution and medical care. It would turn out to be mostly a ‘non-event’, with only a few instances when I felt the zing of a bullet passing by or the smell of cordite from a grenade that exploded too close.

So, by the time we were given the mission to clear out some squatters near the UN compound, I was plenty bitter. Sitting on a plywood toilet and eating MREs will do that to you fast.

By the time we got there, a small squad of about 15 Marines in two light armored vehicles, the Army had started negotiating with the squatters to vacate the premises. There had been some mortar fire into the UN compound from the general area and it needed to be cleared.

The buildings were white stucco, no glass in the windows, chipped by mortar and AK47 rounds. The Somalis, some of whom with mocha-colored skin and light eyes, were articulate and demanding. Both the buildings and people, vestiges of their Italian conquerors, were getting darker and more battered with each generation.

We arrived, tired and dirty and hungry and needing rest for a mission that night. The Army was negotiating and the ‘sierra novembers,’ or Somali Nationals, were complaining and stalling. I gave the order:

“Throw their shit out and get them the fuck out of there, now.”

Not my best moment. It got them out in record time, of course, as the Army colonel in charge looked at me incredulously. I think I burnt his hand with a cigarette butt mistakenly but I didn’t care. They were squatters and he was an Army colonel.

But he was right and I was dead wrong how I handled it. And this was just one instance of me committing not-quite atrocities, but times of poor behavior I would later regret immensely.

When people say, “thank you for your service,” each year, I remember this. Not dying in a blaze of glory to protect my family and friends in America. Other veterans I’ve talked to feel the same embarrassment, although I’ve not explored the personal reason until this morning.

So today, please, think twice about thanking us veterans. Instead, donate to our wounded American brothers and sisters at the Wounded Warrior Project.