We few...we happy few...

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers:

For he today that sheds his blood with me

Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,

This day shall gentle his condition;

And gentlemen in England now-a-bed

Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,

And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks

That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

---Henry V – Wm Shakespeare

It was Veteran’s Day last Wednesday. I spent the morning in a helicopter taking the long way from my Forward Operating Base to Kandahar Air Field. The long way because when I jumped on, there were about 15 Dutch Soldiers already on board with their gear. The Crew Chief told me they were heading to Deh Rewood – the second largest city in Oruzgan Province to drop them off and pick up some more that had finished their tour and would be heading home.

The flight up was beautiful – CAVU – ceiling and visibility unlimited – old aviator speak for not a cloud in the sky. The Dutch Soldiers were nervous, but trying to look cool in front of each other. I remember the feeling well. For me it was also on a holiday – New Years Eve, 1990. The 747 I was on was landing at King Fahd International Airport in Ad Damman, Saudi Arabia. It was filled with soldiers from my battalion, 1^st Battalion, 34^th Armor ,1^st Infantry Division and we were going to war. We too were doing our best to be cool about things – like this was just another training deployment. I know my stomach was churning as we descended into the darkness – having no earthly idea what to expect. I saw the same look in these young Dutchmen – full of bravado – piss and vinegar (remind me to write a story on that sometime), but their eyes betrayed the butterflies they were feeling as the helicopter started its descent. I think I managed to catch the mixture of cool and butterflies in the picture.

The flight back from DR to KAF was totally different. There were about 30 soldiers who got on (I didn’t count, but a full load). This group was a band of brothers. They had lived together and likely fought together in a combat zone. As the bird lifted, I think every one of them was smiling, and by the time we landed at KAF, there was a spring in their step as they debarked the aircraft. I remember that feeling too in May of 1991 as another 747 landed at New York’s Kennedy Airport– and look forward to it again here soon as my time here wraps up.

I received many greetings and thanks from friends from all over the world yesterday (gotta love Facebook™), thanking me for my service. One, in particular, put a lump in my throat and made me think. It was from a still-serving officer who has worked for me from time to time over the years. He thanked me for being a great mentor and credited me, at least partially, for the success that he has achieved. That brought back a flood of memories of similar occurrences over the years. The farewell letters from NCOs who wrote me after they retired, thanking me for being their last officer in charge or section leader or whatever. The warm affection I feel from them when I run into them a year, five years, ten or more years later. What I realized yesterday was that these grizzled professionals were not just thanking me for being a good boss… they were thanking me for upholding the trust – both the ethereal trust of officer and gentlemen, but also for trusting them to do their jobs. They were (and are) telling me that they were considering me one of their “band of brothers”.

I am honored by this belated realization and humbled by it as well. What I would like to convey back to these men and women is that they touched my life as well - and while I may forget their names as I age, their faces never age in my memory. I thank them all for helping me become who I am today as well.

My feelings are nothing unique, nothing new. HBO's mini-series "Band of Brothers" tried to show this bonding, this respect and, let's face it, love, that goes far beyond mere friendship. "Saving Private Ryan" did it in film, and "The Best Years of Our Lives" did it both more eloquently and subtly shortly after WWII.

While the title Veteran's Day is both appropriate and proper, I like what the Commonwealth countries call it even more - Remembrance Day. Remembering the sacrifices of the one and many bands of brothers over the years is the first step in making their sacrifices mean something.

I do not think it is appropriate, however, to wish someone a "Happy Veteran's/Remembrance Day" - I think it is far more appropriate to tell them to "Have a thoughtful Veteran's/Remembrance Day." And so I wish it for all of you as well. Remember - and LEARN!

Hooah

SLK