I read with interest the announcement about a welcome home at Branson. I appreciate what the organizers have done, and I am sure their intentions are honorable and this should be a good event.

 

But, it is too late.

 

I am 62 now and was 21 the first time I went to war in Viet Nam. It is too late. I remember vividly what it was like to be a warrior throughout the 60s and 70s. And yes, I was one of those warriors that got in a hell of a good fight in the San Francisco Airport upon return from my second tour in 1969. It is too late.

 

I also remember the way warriors were treated by the "social elite" during those years. How we were looked down on and treated as if we were leprous. And I, like many, retreated back into the protective cone of fellow warriors and had nothing to do with the "social elite". I remember what it was like to travel in uniform, and how we avoided it if we could. I remember the look in my parents eyes, wondering if I could have done all those things that all said the warriors did. They knew better, but everyone was talking about the low evil things warriors did. It is too late, my parents are gone.

 

I remember how Reagan turned the tide and how he made it respectable to be a veteran, and I remember how all wanted to be my friend and hear my story, or at least until they got bored. I had no tales of killing women and children or burning villages, so they were bored quickly. I wondered where they were in 68, and I heard many stories from them of how they wanted to be there with me in the Big Valley, but couldn't. But, times had been changed by a caring president and now all wanted a pet veteran, one they could parade out for the benefit of the "social elite". It is too late to remove those old but persistent pains.

 

I remember the "Gulf War" and how the old Warriors were united to insure there would be better treatment for the young warriors coming home. I remember the jubilation in the streets and amongst even the "social elite" when the young warriors came home, and I watched as the old warriors rejoiced internally over this jubilation. The old warrior asked for none, because it was too late. Many of his old warrior buddies were now dying off , or they were getting old like him and realized it was too late. But they and he rejoiced inwardly for the new generation of warrior.

 

I remember the cold dark years of the 90s, when no warrior was welcome in the Big House. I remember seeing the "social elite" coming to power and bringing out the old wounds again. And how they seem to relish in pouring salt into the old wounds and how they chipped away at my grand military. I watched as they pushed to have my honored profession of arms put down and trashed again. I watched as it was no longer fashionable to have a pet Veteran again and how the old wounds hurt deeply again. It is too late to heal as the wound goes into the quick of the bone now.

 

I remember watching the newest generation go off to war, and how many thought he was unprepared. But he, like us, showed the world the might of the American warrior. He has now proved himself worthy of the title "Warrior". And now it is his time for a grateful nation to recognize and praise his battle. The old warrior watches and is pleased that he is welcomed home. The old warrior, along with most, stands in the airports and applauds him as he walks off the plane, and life is good. But it is too late for the old warrior.

 

There are many who claim to be part of that old warrior generation. There are many that steal the only thing he has, his valor. There are too many that want to ignore his plight and his honor. There are too many that don't see the harm in it and wonder why the old warrior hurts and bleeds deep inside. It is too late for the long wished for but forgotten "Welcome Home".

 

So thank you for the thought, and I mean you no ugliness. But I am old but have not forgotten those three decades. I asked for nothing then, and I want nothing now. I am more than content to enjoy the friendship of my fellow warriors, old and young. And I am proud that I can get up every morning and look in the mirror while shaving, and know that I did my part, and that I take a back seat to no one. I have walked in the Big Valley with some of the best America had to offer, and I thank God for the honor of doing so.

 

I am home.

 

Dan Turner

"Redwine"

"For those that fight for it,

Life has a flavor the protected will never know"

anonymous