Russell Rowland, at right, had his photo taken with Mike Frate and Jay Zawawe in the personnel office of the USS Fulton AS-11, a submarine tender. Jay and Russell worked in that office. Russell thinks the year was 1987.
Every year on Veterans Day, I cringe at the knowledge that well-meaning people are going to wallpaper Facebook and Twitter with heartfelt tributes to the heroes who have served our country.
I cringe because as a veteran myself, I know the truth about the average military personnel. Most of the people I met in the military were good people. They showed up and did their job. They didn’t cause problems. They were generally a pleasure to work with. In other words, they were average people. In other words, not heroes.
This gets under my craw because calling the average GI Joe a hero cheapens the courage of those who were forced to put themselves in harm’s way. The men and women who live with the nightmares of PTSD, the veterans who have spent the rest of their lives disfigured, either physically or mentally. Hero applies to those people.
Hero applies to my friend Ben Steele, who survived the Bataan Death March and many years in a Japanese prison camp after that. It applies to Ben (who was honored again Monday) because he chose to avoid living with the kind of bitterness that many people would have felt completely justified in wrapping around their hearts. Because he went on to become a man who loves to laugh, who created amazing art work based on his experience. Ben Steele became a hero by converting his experience into a way to improve the lives of others.
The point is, the military is filled with every possible type of person, just like every other walk of life. Some of them are there because they bleed red, white and blue sugary syrup when you slice them open. Some are there because they couldn’t find a job no matter how hard they looked, and they could not care less about politics or foreign affairs.
In fact, I met very few people in the military who were interested in discussing foreign affairs. I met very few who gave a damn about why they were performing the task at hand. They preferred just being told what to do and doing it. Most of the people I knew in the military would be uncomfortable being called a hero.
So I ask a simple thing. When you honor our veterans, find out whether they actually deserve to be honored, or even want to be honored. I hate it when people thank me for serving my country. I think the folks who rush into a burning building deserve more praise than I ever will. There are people doing average jobs all over the country who never get a free meal just because they’ve gotten up and gone to work every day.
Rather than making the empty gesture of thanking someone for serving, think about contributing to an organization that helps the veterans who are still coming to terms with what they’ve done. Because the truth is, more veterans die from suicide than ever die in battle. Think about making sure Congress does right by these people.
I love this country as much as the next guy. And although I have had my issues with the military, I recognize its purpose and the need for it. But I don’t believe that most of us who have served deserve to be called heroes. We are simply fellow citizens. We are you.
Russell Rowland is a Billings native (West High ’76) who earned an M.A. in creative writing from Boston University. He is the author of three novels, “In Open Spaces,” “The Watershed Years,” and “High and Inside.” The latter two were finalists for the High Plains Book Award. He is currently working on a book called “Fifty-Six Counties: An American Journey,” which has him traveling to every county in Montana and writing about the issues around the state. You can also visit his website.
