No disrespect to anyone, I’m a vet myself. But, here in my area, there is the VFW and the American Legion. Our VFW is FILLED to the brim with vets who sit around all day and drink, and claim disability. Well, those of the Vietnam era (as I am). Most will all claim to be highly decorated tunnel rats if you ask them, and they will wax eternal about secret missions, special ops, etc. It is amazing that no one worked in the motor pool.
Now, you find the modern soldiers in there as well, and they are disgusted by the vets from my era. Here we have guys from the Sandbox missing limbs looking across a bar at some dude with a vest and Vietnam patches all over him, fully able bodies on disability.
Our American Legion is completely different. There we have vets from all wars (most Korean and of course WW2 vets are dying off), who have been business owners, outstanding members of the community etc, who have lost limbs, have shrapnel all over them, and never once have a “victimization attitude”.
I look up to these guys, and they are an inspiration. No self pity there.
I am ashamed at those who served during my period who used it as a tool to live on welfare.
In our VFW half claim to be victims of “Agent Orange”, and all have PTSD. Ask them where they were posted, and those of us who were in country can spot their bullshit a mile away.
Two lawyers frequent our VFW, but this new generation of sandbox warriors will have nothing to do with these leeches of the legal world.
I’m proud of all those who serve and come home with dignity, but have nothing but spite for those who want a free ride because they were drafted from the lottery.
I know I’ll get flamed by a few here, but for those who served in my era, we know that half the people drafted were idiots, and they just continued that behavior when they got home.
This is in a suburb of Chicago, where most folks are leeches anyhow, so perhaps it is different in other areas of our nation.
He told me that the real heroes were the wounded and dead which his ship helped get off the invasion beaches.
When I was in high school, our local VFW was a great organization which sponsored patriotic essay contests and even sent speakers to the schools. They were good men, as I recall, but not one of them had seen the firefighting which my Dad did and wouldn't talk about except in those quiet father-son moments when you were with him on a long drive or hunting or fishing trip.