Broken vets. Homeless vets. Addicted vets with PTSD. Sick vets, exacerbated by their service.
We’ve seen no lack of sad and real tales about veterans damaged by the horror of battle, drugs and other trauma, and of the much appreciated efforts to help them. Of all the cohorts who deserve our collective rebuilding, those who volunteered their lives, limbs, and livelihoods for the greater good and were shattered by that act deserve our greatest attention and kindness.
With all the ugliness out there about the “evil others” in this sour political and social era, it’s cheering to see at least one group that’s more or less universally respected, regardless of politics (with some exceptions). That doesn’t mean more shouldn’t be done to help the hurting former service members. There seems much less argument about whether vets are worthy of our concern and gratitude.
I’m glad for that.
It wasn’t that way when I got out.
What seems a bit lost is the other side of the coin, the part that should be celebrated.
While some vets were damaged by the trauma and responsibility they bore, most of the rest came back with attitudes, experiences, and a sense of responsibility much more acutely attuned to succeeding in the world.
Let’s continue to treat the scars. But let’s also recognize and reward the skills that come from military service.
Most of us found ourselves in uniform not long after high school, a time when our randy teens buddies were in college or hooting around the old hood. Meanwhile, we were yelled at, force-marched, sent off to far flung corners of the globe, and expected to get the job done right and on time, like it or not (and often, not).
The service forced us to be responsible adults and citizens. It trained us to show up, to lead, to perform, and move on. And with whatever tools were available.
Because of that, veterans know what it’s like to show up, take responsibility, adapt when plans change – not an unusual event. They expect to be held accountable and do so with others. They’re used to working in a team when it’s much more important than the day’s receipts — when the safety of brothers is at stake. And that’s brothers, and sisters, of every background, race, and faith.
Teamwork isn’t a checked box on the annual review. It’s having the back of the person who you’re counting on to have yours.
My plea this year is to recognize what that training and experience bring to the civilian world of work. Look at all the reasons to hire these folks or give them credit – and by that mean both personal and financial credit – for being able to work in and to run a business.
What veterans bring to the work table in spades:
- Solving problems under pressure, often with limited time and tools.
- Showing up. A grunt knows what 0800 means and what show up ready means. They understand the need for reliability.
- Two core elements necessary to the military mission – leadership and teamwork – are keys to success in the civilian work world as well.
- Respect, including respecting differences. Few environments slam teammates together from far flung backgrounds and lives and expect them to get it done together. The wide-ranging potpourri of histories of young recruits is like nothing most of them have seen before (and more than most non-vets ever get).
- Veterans, particularly those who’ve worked together in dangerous assignments, understand mission focus.
- Having survived difficult circumstances, they are stocked with loads of resilience. They’ve all been through a lot more hell than you’re going to hand them.
This is not an either-or thing. It’s right to support and honor the vets who gave so much, or even just offered to give so much. Let us also remember how that experience made them better assets, builders, and leaders valuable to the communities they once defended and now serve in other ways.
Hire a vet.
Help one get or keep a business running.
It’s in your best interest as much as theirs – and it might help ensure subsequent generations will follow them.
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Mildly related bonus point I couldn’t resist passing on: I heard a radio interview this week of a 100-plus veteran of the battle of Iwo Jima, who survived a months-plus ordeal that claimed more than 7,000 Marines. At the end, the interviewer told him, “Thanks for your service.”
He told her to instead tell veterans, “Thanks for my freedom.”
Hal DeKeyser was a Navy photographer.
