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A Message on Veteran’s Day

As a Navy reservist of 18 years, I consider myself fortunate. Sure, at times I found myself in the precarious position of wearing two hats: one as a civilian journalist and the other as a seaman, a lieutenant and everything in between.

Like many of my shipmates, I was recalled to active duty to serve in support of Operation Enduring Freedom for one year. Last October, my husband, Perry, was also mobilized in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. We left a week apart from each other. My destination: Williamsburg, Va. His destination: Baghdad.

As a public affairs officer with the Navy Expeditionary Logistics Support Group, I did not face any of the dangers that my fellow shipmates, soldiers, airmen, Marines and Coast Guardsmen (affectionately known as “Coasties”) do on a daily basis.

Nor did I know the full extent of danger my husband endured during his seven-month tour of duty mostly at the U.S. Embassy in Baghdad. In phone calls from Iraq, he’d simply tell me he was working “the real deal.” Only when he got home did I learn how very real his mission was but he wouldn’t tell me much of anything. He served as an intelligence officer. I’m so proud of him and the risks he took to serve his country.

My job was to simply tell the story of the thousands of cargo handlers and customs inspectors that the Navy has sent to Iraq and Kuwait since 2005 — and counting.

For both of us, it was an honor to serve, plain and simple. I helped send hundreds of my shipmates to tours in the sandbox. I was also there to welcome them home when they were done. Now understand first-hand the sacrifices asked of our military’s men and women and how willingly they “roger up” and get the job done, no matter how dirty, hot or dangerous it is. I’ve learned so much from my shipmates over the years about leadership, rising to challenges, and especially about not whining.

I do not come without some complaints about the military and I would challenge any of our troops who claim to be complaint free when our country is fighting two wars with uncertain outcomes. But today is Veterans Day — a day for recognition and appreciation above all else.

As a child and young teen, Veterans Day generally meant a parade in downtown Oklahoma City for a bunch of old men who did great things that I studied about for history tests.

I did not come from a military family, but we are a sensible lot. So when I joined the Navy reserve on Aug. 29, 1990, it was for something more concrete than the Navy’s core values of honor, courage and commitment. Heck, I needed the money for college and a six-year enlistment seemed like a fair trade. I remember my recruiter rolling his eyes and using exaggerated emphasis when he had me sign the form that said I’d be willing to go to war if called upon to do so. Before my paperwork was finalized however, the first Gulf War had already begun.

My job, though, was to simply show up at the reserve center on Douglas Boulevard one weekend a month and serve two weeks of “training” during the year. Soon I found out how adventurous that “training” was. In 1991 and 1993 I went to Panama and my world opened up. Over the years, I’ve seen parts of the world I never expected to see and the mission s were always challenging — some were worth writing about in this newspaper.

In 1994, I had the privilege of serving with the Royal Navy in Portsmouth, England, for the 50th anniversary of D-Day. Thousands of World War II veterans came through Portsmouth on their way to Normandy. For many of them it was their first, their twentieth — but likely their last pilgrimage to where that historical battle was fought.

My job was simply to keep those veterans happy. What a deal, I thought. I didn’t count on hearing so many of their stories first-hand. On holding their hands while they cried, sometimes for the first time in 50 years. On crying over the reality of their war every night in my hotel room, then waking up each morning anxious to hear more from these heroes. Heroes often wear that title uncomfortably, so I don’t use the word often. I don’t want to dilute its meaning. But today it is appropriate. And those old men in the parades, they’re heroes to one degree or another too. Soon they’ll be replaced by our servicemen and women now in Iraq and Afghanistan and the Horn of Africa, where the new AFRICOM command has been stood up.

I have no doubt they’ll be thinking about those who didn’t make it back. Most won’t be dwelling on their personal triumphs as much as on what more they could have done — or done differently. I know that’s how my husband feels and yet he did tremendous things over there.

So to all the veterans out there, Bravo Zulu to you, as we say in the Navy, and Fair Winds and Following Seas. The country honors you today.

-Penny Cockerell

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