"You're Welcome"

This post isn't long.  It's about a small memory from when I was just about 4 years old.  It's one of my first memories as a BRAT.

There are no specifics that are kept in my mind.  All I know is I was maybe 4 years old and Vietnam had just BARELY ended.  The hatred for our fighting men and women in uniform still clouded the streets. To remember all the circumstances is difficult since it’s been so long and I was so young.

Why Daddy was in uniform, I am unable to recall.  What I do recall is looking up at him and feeling pride.  He looked sure of himself and confident.  While that was who Daddy was, in or out of uniform, there was something in how he walked and carried himself when he was in his uniform.

I can’t even remember what uniform he was wearing.  I always think it was his Cracker Jacks, but that’s because I thought he looked the most handsome in those.  But, honestly?  I don’t know.  I don’t even remember if it was summer, winter, fall, or spring. Those details are fuzzy at best.

We were walking (again, fuzzy on the details) and we passed a long haired FUBAR’d hippie.  I DO remember that because it stuck out to me.  I had never seen a man with long hair before and it made for quite the impression.

As he passed by us, he looked at Daddy and with complete venom in his voice said “Baby Killer!”

I looked at Daddy, who had stopped.  Intensity was in his blue eyes.  I wasn’t sure of what he was going to do.  I hid behind his leg, peeking over at the stranger.  Daddy turned around and simply yelled “You’re welcome!”

As we repositioned ourselves, the young man yelled back “For what?”

Once again, Daddy faced the young man.  And I will never forget his words.  In fact, I have used them myself.  He was staunch still and at attention.  Daddy’s voice, though soft, was tough and strong.  “You’re welcome because I put this uniform on.”  As the young man opened his mouth, Daddy held up a hand to stop him.  “You get to go home every night to your family, safe, because I don’t.  I go to fight a war so you don’t have to.  I put my country first so you can continue to have what you have.  I don’t raise my voice so that you can keep yours.  I go days without sleep so that you may.  I put myself in dangerous situations to keep you from them.  Whatever you may think of what I do or those who serve with me, we do it because of you.  And each one of us would raise our hands to repeat that oath again, even if it was just for you. So on behalf of the United States military, you’re welcome.  Don’t worry about fighting.  We got that.”

I looked up at the strange young man.  His face was softened and he had obviously been proverbially brought to his knees.  He had been schooled and he sensed it.  He just looked at my dad, defeat present in his eyes and walked away.

And we walked away.  At a young age, I understood (no matter how limited at that age) what sacrifices Daddy made for us…the flag…the United States.  That understanding would only grow as I did.