Veteran

My military service was not voluntary. I do not wish to be recognized for my service.

VETERAN

Between 1965 and 1969, I served in the U.S. Coast Guard--not out of choice, but as a way to avoid being drafted into the Army during the Vietnam War.

At that time, the United States was fighting alongside South Vietnam against North Vietnam, which sought to unify the country under a communist government. Many Americans opposed our involvement in what was, at its heart, a civil war halfway around the world. I was among them.


I didn't volunteer for military service; I enlisted because I was required to serve in some form. My time in uniform wasn't a source of pride. When I was honorably discharged in 1969, I destroyed my uniforms. I didn't want to hold on to the symbols of a war I didn't believe in--especially one that so many Americans viewed with anger, confusion, and shame.


Still, those four years stationed in New Orleans weren't without meaning. There were moments of joy, friendship, and growth. I lived, I worked, I laughed, and I learned--like any young man trying to find his footing in an uncertain world. But I was there because I had to be, not because I chose to serve.


I don't seek recognition as a veteran. There are tens of thousands of men who gave their lives in service--men who believed in their mission, who sacrificed for their country and for others. They are the ones who deserve our honor. I respect them deeply. I salute them. But I am not one of them.


So, laugh with me, cry with me, remember with me. Those years shaped me, yes--but they don't define me. I was simply a young man doing what he had to do, trying to grow up in a complicated time.