Our American Birthright: Veterans Day 2021
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Roy Huereque and Donald Long, two veterans who left a lasting impact on me.
A few weeks ago, a conversation I had led me to contemplate the birthright that is given to us as Americans. Birthright is kind of an archaic word, but absolutely invaluable. It is our inheritance, our legacy, a rightful privilege we receive at birth. Our birthright as Americans gives us the gift of freedom. Freedom to self regulate and self govern. With that freedom comes responsibility. The responsibility to tend to, care for, and protect our birthright.
“To whom much is given, much is required.”
This birthright, our freedom, has to be guarded. We all share the responsibility, true, but it’s not equally divided. Our military carries the burden of protection in a different manner than the civilian. Our military holds the line for the rest of us. A few men and women volunteer to make particular sacrifices and develop distinct disciplines so that the rest of us do not have to.
And that’s why we have a Veterans’ Day. To honor their service, their sacrifice, their discipline, their burden, and to say ‘thank you.’ It’s not hero worship. It’s recognizing that they have taken our place in line and made themselves available to protect America on behalf of the rest of us. Some years patriotism is in vogue, and other years it’s blacklisted. But our veterans stick it out, carrying the standard with pride. And for this, I will always be grateful.
A few years back, I listened as a veteran told me the story of a day when time stopped for him. Beneath the skies of Belgium, he watched the snow fall slowly and melt into nothingness on the open and exposed brain of the young paratrooper he held in his arms. He had tried to save the boy, but the surrounding snow was already stained red with the life of the young man.
The veteran was old, but still strong. I held his hand as he reflected on this painful memory. He was gentle, kind, and sincere. He had carried a Medic’s bag in the war instead of a rifle because he wanted to save life, not take away.
The entirety of our friendship, I never once heard him complain. His presence was like a warm hug. His sense of humor was charming. I cried bitterly when he died. But I never forgot that conversation.
“Liberty,” he had said in a smooth Virginia accent, “I love this country so much. As horrible as it all was, I would do it all again. At 95 it would be my greatest honor to take up arms for my country. That’s how much I love her.”
There was no pomp in what he said. No clichés. It was pure and simple.
He loved America.
For him to have that experience, just one in many nightmarish experiences he had suffered, it was worth it. Worth it if it meant I - ME - Liberty Phillips - did not have to. That was it.
There is so much chaos in the world. So much disillusionment, hurt, pain, and so on. But I am convinced a grateful heart is a happy one. Gratitude doesn’t mean ignorance. Gratitude is choosing to not allow suffering and hardship to define who you are, and who you will be.
I am grateful for my veterans. My military family. For all it entails. “So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love…. And Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”
Happy Veterans Day.
Operation Meatball
Honoring Veterans & Connecting Them With the Youth of Today
