When you marry into a family of warriors, as I did--indeed, my own father is a retired Marine Corps Master Gunnery Sgt. who did a tour in Vietnam as did my brother with the army--war becomes something concrete rather than abstract, and veterans are people whom you love, not just people you read about on Veteran's Day.

All the members of my family who served in the military volunteered to do so during a time of war.  My husband was a Distinguished Military Graduate of Texas A&M University when he graduated in 1970 and received his commission as a 2nd Lieutenant, and he was given his choice of assignments, including the Pentagon.  He chose a combat infantry deployment to Vietnam, which caused his Corps of Cadets advisor to stammer a bit and then say, "Well...uh...we need good officers over there, too."

He wound up as a platoon leader with the 101st Airborne Division and brought home a Bronze Star for courage under fire.

His older brother did two combat deployments with the army special forces.  During his second tour he was shot up and left for dead; he brought home numerous ribbons as well as two Purple Hearts and left the service in the post-Vietnam rift at the rank of Captain.  (He did not have a college degree, which became a post-Vietnam requirement for officers, or he would have stayed in special forces until retirement.  To this day, he remains active with an organization of SF vets.)

My husband's younger brother also went through ROTC in college and made a career out of the army special forces, retiring at the rank of brigadier general; he did not, however, serve in a combat deployment although he did work for Gen. Wesley Clark in the Balkans negotiating with warlords during the Bosnian war and he did the same thing in Afghanistan just before his retirement.  He was at the Pentagon on 9/11 and for hours nobody knew if he was all right or not.

His two sons are also career army; one in special forces where he served in Afghanistan, and the other in a combat deployment to Iraq as we speak.  One son once served a tour as a guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier which stationed him in Washington, D.C.  On 9/11, he helped pull burnt-up bodies out of the smoldering ruins of the Pentagon even as he was unaware of the fate of his own dad.

My husband's sister did a brief stint with the National Guard, and her son joined the Marines after 9/11 and did three combat deployments to Iraq--each one worse than the one before.  He is now out of the service and trying to find his way, thinking of going to college.

My own son followed in his father's footsteps in going through the Corps of Cadets at Texas A&M as well as joining Parson's Mounted Cavalry and serving with the elite Cannon Crew.  He did not take an officer's commission, but instead, enlisted in the Marine Corps as soon as he graduated from A&M.  He did two combat tours to Iraq, including the Battle of Fallujah in Nov. of '04, and helped provide security during the famous Iraq vote in 2005.  He returned to the area with his unit in 2006 and saw an incredibly bloody tour of duty, though he came home alive, in one piece, and of sound mind, at the rank of sergeant, with his own "chest candy" ribbons.  Though he was encouraged to go through Officer Candidate School, he chose to leave the Marines and is now looking into graduate school or maybe certification to become a teacher.

My step-dad was retired Air Force who took part in the Battle of Midway on board a ship, my father-in-law was also a WWII vet with the Navy, and my sister did a short hitch in the Air Force many years ago.

Many of you already know all this about my family, but some of you do not, so that's why I've recounted it all.  I do so because the arguments on this war and on veterans themselves can drift to the abstract pretty easily, and I want to say a few concrete things about veterans I have known.

There has been much in print lately about post-traumatic stress and veterans and many dire predictions about how many will suffer from this terrible consequence of war, and I do not take anything away from those predictions or the seriousness of it.

But having lived through Vietnam and its aftermath with a family of warriors, and watching movie after movie depicting war vets as wildly screwed up nutcase killers, I would like to say a word about the vast overwhelming majority of veterans who are NOT screwed up.

Most war vets go on to live productive, active lives.  I am not saying that some of them do not suffer repercussions--maybe they drink too much or have marital problems, all of which is a cover for PTSD--but there are many, many who do not.  The warriors on both sides of my family married, stayed married to the same woman for decades, raised families if they chose to have kids (loved nieces and nephews if they didn't), held good jobs, became active in their communities.

Most combat vets do suffer tragic memories, a few nightmares, and some other repurcussions of war, but they believe that those who have the most trouble dealing with it are those who had emotional problems BEFORE they went into the service.  Also, statistics have shown that those who have the most training, like Marines, have fewer statistics for PTSD than those who have the least, like National Guard troops. 

Troops who come back from war and step into their civilian lives almost immediately also have a great deal more trouble adjusting than those who, like the Marines, step down a troop's exposure to family and friends after war.  When they get back, they get a 96 hour leave with family but they cannot leave the state--family has to live there or fly there; and then, they have two weeks on base before they are permitted their 30-day leaves.  During this time they are carefully screened for PTSD symptoms and take classes, says my son sarcastically, "that tell us you can't go out and kill people."

One special problem with this particular war is that traumatic brain injury from the kinds of closed-head concussions that occur from surviving even small IED's do sometimes mimic the symptoms of PTSD--sleeplessness, agitation, hair-trigger temper, depression, nightmares, and headaches.  Fortunately, the military is catching on to this and trying to do a better job of recognizing it. 

The best way to take care of it is to do as my son did, get ALL those things checked out while you are still active-duty; make copies of every single medical record they've got as well as all your paperwork documenting your time in combat, organize it into a notebook, and have it when you leave the service.  That way, nobody can "lose" your records because you will always have back-up.  You have to take care of those things yourself--you can't depend upon the military to hold your hand.

But the bottom line is that, yes, most combat vets do deal with occasional sleeplessness, some nightmares, some bad days.  Most of them are able to deal with it with supportive family and observant close friends.  Some need help but many manage okay on their own.  They just may not talk about it much.

Some years ago, my sister married a man (they're long since divorced), who was active in a local Vietnam Veterans organization and did a great deal of fund-raising and group-therapy sessions for Vietnam vets with PTSD.  In that capacity, he gave many moving speeches and told many stirring stories about his desperate days doing what John Kerry did during the Vietnam war--took small boats up the rivers and engaged the enemy.  There were tragic stories about buddies who died, and he liked nothing better than to meet fellow vets like my husband and talk about the war.

But my husband did not warm to this man; nor did I.  He seemed nice enough but there was something about him that did not settle with us.

After he ran off with a seventeen year old girl, my sister, for the first time, stopped taking his word for it and did some real research into his military background.  To her shock, horror, and humiliation, she discovered that he had served on board a ship, docked well off-shore during his year in Vietnam.

Working as a cook.

He had never seen combat at all.  The entire thing was made up; the stories came from the many many books on the war that he had devoured.

I resurrected the phenomenon later in a thriller I wrote called ORDEAL, in which a charismatic leader of a paramilitary group was found to be a complete phony who had bought his war medals off a homeless vet he found on the street.

This phenomenon--the pretend-combat vet--is not particular just to Vietnam; in fact, there are plenty surfacing now during these two wars.  You can buy most any piece of uniform or any medal or ribbon at army-navy surplus stores and at gun shows and on the Internet or e-bay.  I understand Congress is getting ready to crack down on the war-fakes, and not a moment too soon, I might add.

The thing is, the real mark of a true combat vet is that he or she is really not all that comfortable with gushes of "hero" and other recognition.  They appreciate more than anything the quiet gesture--such as the middle-aged couple who once paid for my son's dinner just before he shipped out to Iraq.  He was wearing civvies but had that unmistakeable bearing and short haircut; in San Diego , it was pretty obvious.   They paid his tab without saying a word to him, and he was deeply touched.

Combat vets don't much like to talk about their war experiences, unless they are with family or close friends who understand the military way of life and war itself.  Around the Mills dinner table, I have heard one wild war story after another, but they are almost always told as FUNNY stories.  Even though you can tell that what took place was a great act of bravery, you laugh too because that's how they see it.

Like when my daughter once asked, "Uncle Travis, how come you have two Purple Hearts?"

And he answered, "Well, I kept gettin' up and he kept shootin'!"

He laughed and we laughed because that's just the way it is.

The more tragic stories they either keep to themselves or speak of them very quietly, one-on-one, in a secluded moment.  The losses they have witnessed are sacred to them, not to be shared with strangers for the kind of notoriety enjoyed by my sister's phony-vet ex.

Most veterans are deeply proud of their service, even in controversial wars.  They stepped up when the nation called; they served with honor; and they came home to revel in the freedoms so many of us take for granted.

Serving in a war does change a man or a woman, but it's not all bad, the changes.  No one ever really knows how they will behave when called upon to display courage, or make a life-or-death decision in a split-second, or defend the innocent at risk of their own life even when the innocent may be helping the enemy, or lay down their own life for their friends'.

Everyone who goes into a combat situation is scared to death; it's not like a video game or a movie.  Nobody wants to die.  Nobody wants to see a buddy die.  Nobody really wants to get shot at.

Like my son said after a recent hike across the country near our land--he'd cut his hike short when he realized that hunters were out--(We don't allow hunting on our land but neighbors do)--he said, "I didn't want to get in their way.  Plus, I didn't want to get shot at.  That's never fun."

I laughed because that's what you do.  You hide the sadness that your child knows how it feels to get shot at and you laugh.

Anyway, those who endure such terror and do it with grace, honor, and bravery, those who do it unselfishly--caring more for their buddies than for their own hides--those who can still laugh about it when they get home...These men and women have a confidence that will remain with them for the rest of their lives. 

It's a bearing they have--not cocky--just quietly sure of themselves.

Nothing--and nobody--can take away from them that knowledge that when they were once afraid, they stepped up and did their jobs.

One of the hallmarks of most veterans is that, even among family and friends, there is often a sort of loneliness.  Most people have no clue, no understanding whatsoever where they have been, what they have seen, and what they may have been called upon to do.

Many people don't care.  Like a veteran I heard on NPR today said, when he put his combat experience on his resume, a Human Resources director during a job interview said, "I see you were in the war; well, I don't want to hear about it because I am a pacifist."

We don't see that kind of thing much in conservative Texas but it definitely exists in other parts of the country, and it can be hard to deal with.  In some families, only the son or daughter has ever served in the military, and their closest loved ones just don't quite get it.

Most veterans are proud of their service but they don't want to make a big deal of it.  My own son and I recently argued because I told him he needed to list his combat ribbons on his resume.  He said, "I don't want to play the war card!"  And I pointed out that the military has been his JOB for four years, and that these ribbons are demonstrations of his leadership capability, which might interest a Human Resources director.  (At least one in Texas.)

It is not unusual to find combat vets, like my husband, who have no interest whatsoever in hunting.  Going in search of a human enemy in jungle or urban surroundings where they can shoot back sort of takes the fun out of tracking deer through the brush.  Not for all combat vets, mind you, but for many.  It's just not that much fun for them, and they are often not absolutely ga-ga over guns, either.

Been there, done that. 

My husband once said that the dirty little secret of war that nobody wants to talk about is that, for the combat troop (not the support guys but the guys who carried guns and got shot at)--this was the most exciting time of your whole life, and you will never again know that kind of exhileration.  He told me years ago that there was something just spellbinding about "flying into a hot L.Z. (landing zone) with a cadre of choppers" that you would never duplicate in civilian life.  

That may have been true to some extent back then because you only had to go to war once unless you asked to return, but with these multiple deployments, vets like my son have had quite enough excitement, thank you.  They are ready for a quiet life.  Not that they won't do exciting outdoor sports and things, but they have no desire to duplicate what they knew in war.

Most combat vets are honorable people.  They are quiet in a group because they don't feel that they have a lot in common with most people in the room.  They are modest about their accomplishments in war.  They are uncomfortable in large crowds because they spent so many months on hypervigilance in large groups of people where one man with a backpack could kill them all.  (This is why it's best not to throw big gigantic parties welcoming home your vet, but have several small gatherings with family and friends he or she loves.  People who love them can wait their turn for a visit, but flinging the whole gang at them at one time can be overwhelming.)

Many combat vets have lost their taste for sweets and may not be interested in eating their "welcome home" cake.

Combat vets are just as varied in their political opinions as the rest of America, and a growing number of them, like my son, hate this war and want to see it end.   They are sick and tired of attending memorial services for their friends; sick and tired of sending buddies back to war even after they get out of the military themselves.

This does not mean that they are not deeply proud of their service and desperately hope that the deaths of their friends was not wasted.  Sometimes, they get very angry about that.  Some of them become activists in anti-war activities, and some, like my son, don't want to think or talk about the war just now.  They want to get on with their lives.

All men and women who volunteer to serve are not necessarily heroes, and combat vets know this.  True acts of heroism are extraordinary and rare, and small acts of heroism take place every day in a warzone.  But the men and women who do those heroic things do not think of themselves as heroes.  The true heroes, to them, are the ones who never got to come back and watch a Veteran's Day parade.

If you know a combat vet, just a simple, "Thank you for your service" will mean a great deal to them.  They don't want to explain to you what their opinion is of this war.  They don't want to tell you if they killed anybody.  They don't want to talk about it really, but they do appreciate being remembered.

Tell them you are sorry if they lost friends, and that you remember their buddies daily in your prayers.

And if they should honor you by telling you their story, treat it like the sacred trust it is, and tuck it close to your heart, along with your tears.