The gap between civilians and the military is palpable at college campuses across the country and the difference between a freshman with four years of military experience and even their similarly aged college senior couldn’t be starker. During more than two decades of war, the American population has sacrificed nearly nothing while an increasingly homogenous warrior castehas borne the brunt. To make up for it, the nation has chosen to place the military on a pedestal — something harmful to our democracy.
The onus to close the civ-mil divide is on the veteran, not the other way around. The military and veterans, as our former General Martin Dempsey said, need to reach out.
Most civilians will never understand any of the experiences of the modern veteran of the global war on terror. This is a good thing; we don’t need or want everyone to know how pungent the smell of an HMMWV on fire is, or how a human body turns to mush that feels like oatmeal after an IED, or even what it feels like to have someone shoot at you.
So how do we close that divide? Sebastian Junger has some excellent ideas for civilians to share the moral burden. Sharing our stories is vital for healing within and through our communities. The memory of the treatment of Vietnam Veterans is a national shame. However, on the same token, today’s veterans are revered to such a point, placed on such a pedestal, that it’s sometimes hard to see the whole person. It’s difficult to ascertain that the modern veteran is not one polity, but rather a collection of human beings just like any other community.
I offer humility as a solution. A positive, humble attitude is crucial to finding success. By serving the country, you’re different from your non-veteran peer. However, you’re not necessarily a better human being because of the choice you made. The pedestal, both self-imposed and created by well-meaning civilians, is one factor in veteran readjustment issues.
I often think of the Greatest Generation, our Second World War forbearers. Those who went to war came home and got back to their lives. Sure, historical memory is nuanced, and many stories of struggle are often left out of the national narrative, but by and large, that generation is an example to be emulated. These men who saved the world from fascist dictatorships didn’t come home asking for or expecting people to thank them for their service, render them a 10% discount at the hardware store, or give them a free Christmas tree. Instead of wrapping their entire identities in a few years of, albeit brutish, service to their nation, they came home and returned to their lives or reinvented themselves around new vocations thanks to the enormous benefits of the G.I. Bill.
They saw service as most Americans saw it from our founding. Again, it is difficult to make historical parallels, but the ideals of a Universal Military Obligation permeate the nation’s founding. Service in a time of war, thus, was a regular part of citizenship. Over time that ideal has eroded to the point that veterans today seem to expect exaltation for their exploits as laundry and bath specialists in Kuwait.
The advice I often give to student veterans entering college for the first time is to try and blend in as much as possible. Don’t isolate yourself from your communities from whence you came. Without a doubt, not many have served, but basing your entire identity on a few years of service is disingenuous to yourself, much less your community and nation. Find an identity where military service is but a part, but not all, of who you are.
Resist insulating yourself. Social media is terrible for this. Reach out to someone you wouldn’t otherwise. Share your story, but do it respectfully, and when prompted.
Compounding the problem are cultural differences between the college campus and the military base. When I left the service and went to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, I had no idea what I was stepping into. Seventy miles north of Fort Bragg, Chapel Hill felt seventy light-years away culturally.
However, I began to feel more and more comfortable there, not because I stayed in a cocoon of veteran groups, but because I was encouraged to become part of the broader campus community. I became involved with the men’s club rugby team and made other friends outside of veteran circles. More than anything, this helped me become whole again after a lifetime in the Army.
Instead of feeling sorry for myself and looking back, I was able to have fun and look forward. Of course, being around other veterans was important, but was not my only outlet. It can be challenging to fit in, but, veterans are not alone. And while veterans face many unique challenges, so does everyone around you. In fact, it’s vital that you maintain a positive attitude and reach out to “traditional” students — it goes a long way toward bridging the divide.
