A soldier stands at the doorway of her home, preparing for deployment.
Stock Photo Illustration (Credit: Getty Images for Unsplash+/https://tinyurl.com/5d9p5hu5)

Every veteran I saw as a therapist was a tribute to my dad, who quietly served as a Marine during some of the fiercest fighting in the South Pacific in World War II. I lost count of how many veterans came through my practice, but each was a hero whose service they downplayed—as America often did as well.

The Burden of War

Protecting one’s nation in conflicts around the world is not something enlisted soldiers get to choose. They enlist or are drafted, trained in warfare, and sent off to bases, stations, or theaters of war they did not select.

People are altered profoundly by killing. On the streets of any town or city in America, a citizen who kills another could end up in prison. But more than that, taking another life crosses a line for most mentally healthy people.

We are taught to respect all life because all life is sacred. A significant part of a soldier’s training is learning to overcome that instinct—to take a life when necessary. Then, when the soldier’s time is up, he or she is expected to flip a mental switch, go home, and resume a normal life.

Some veterans made their way into my care, acknowledging that one of their final orders was not to speak about what happened “over there.”

The problem is that many honorable soldiers carry “over there” with them for the rest of their lives. They can’t forget or simply walk away. They cannot resume their normal routines because “over there” changed them.

Our Sacred Oath

That is why this nation must show an unwavering commitment to our military veterans.

First, we must provide the best care available in this country. Why? Because just as it was their sacred oath to “protect and defend,” it must be our sacred oath to care for and support those who have put their lives and futures on the line for the nation.

Over the 23 years I worked with veterans, I conducted a simple survey of those I served. At some point, I would ask, “Why? Why did you enlist? Why did you serve?” 

The answers were consistent and could be summarized in a few categories:

  • Some said they were unsure of their next step in life, and the military seemed like a reasonable choice. If they chose education afterward, they would have the money to pursue it.

  • Some aimed for a lifelong military career, hoping to rise through the ranks.

  • Some fled toxic homes, seeking refuge in the structure of the military.

  • Some wanted a broader experience of the world than their upbringing had allowed.

What a veteran never said to me—because they were young, strong, and healthy—was, “I want guaranteed medical care for the rest of my life.” Yet the American people should have collectively recognized this need and ensured our soldiers received the best healthcare this nation could offer.

Instead, we have a Veterans Administration (VA) that too often provides uneven, erratic, and inadequate care. My entire 23 years of seeing veterans was, in many ways, a result of the VA’s shortcomings. What began as “Veterans Choice” eventually evolved into “Care in the Community.”

A Foundation for Peace

Second, our government must consider veterans—and future veterans—when making decisions about war. Years ago, I wrote in one of my pastor’s columns that, to ensure a war was truly justified, we should send the children of politicians, representatives, and senators to the front of the line.

One representative’s mother, who was on my mailing list, took offense. Still, it was my way of saying, “We would not be so quick to send in the military if our leaders had skin in the game.”

What began as a flippant remark has become a foundational belief of mine: our military should always be a last resort, never a tool of threat or intimidation.

Military service—whatever the setting—changes a person. As a nation, we must never take that lightly.