An obligation to serve

In my military time, it was days, sometimes weeks, before my family received a letter from me. Before the days of the Internet, I and my family were at the mercy of the Fleet Post Office. Depending on where in the world my ship, the USS Ponce, was dictated when, or if, I received mail or could send a letter.

Families of our active-duty warriors serve this nation. We veterans know of our sacrifice because we were there, doing it. Our families, at home, wondered if we were in harm’s way. We each joined or were drafted into the military. We took this as our obligation to this country. Some had bone spurs.

The current president is taking ridicule because he doesn’t remember the date of his son’s death. I don’t recall the exact date my father died. I was overseas, on a naval ship, not knowing what day of the week it was because days on a Navy ship run together. When I received word of my father’s passing, I was confronted with a dilemma. Should I fly from Lebanon to bury my dad or should I remain on my ship in a war zone and make my father proud of me? Serving this country was more important to him than me attending his funeral. My brothers made the decision for me. “You’re going home, we got this.”

As I’ve aged, my thoughts return to the glory days of my pitiful service to this country. I didn’t do one damn thing that would be confused with valor. I merely served in the United States Navy. Yet I was there, doing my duty. I didn’t come home in a casket, like so many have. I merely served, because I had an obligation I felt I had to serve this country for all the benefits I was later entitled to. I’m entitled to vote in this country, to register my opinions about how a free people can govern themselves.

I’ll not vote for a man who led an insurrection and promises he will be a dictator for one day. No dictator in human history has given up dictatorial powers because of a time limit. I’ll not vote for anyone who doesn’t have the first clue what military service to this country is.

My brothers on the USS Ponce made me go home to bury my father. My brothers. You should be so lucky to have brothers like I have. STEVE FOSTER

Greenland