Our unsung military personnel

My liberal tribe who admire my long gray hair, my distain of bras and my vermicomposting practice cringe a little when I talk about our military. They confuse my respect and admiration of those who serve — “Non sibi sed patriae” (“Not for self but for country”) — with a dangerous hawkishness. But my views are not based upon the military as a monolithic ideology but rather the people I know, have known, who have served and their experiences.

The United States military is the best social safety net for young adults this country has. It is vital not just for America’s protection, but for the protections it provides to young adults.

Four days after my husband graduated from high school, his physically abusive father kicked him out. With no money and the limited opportunities that come from being poor, he walked into his small-town Naval Recruitment Office and signed up. He received immediate food and shelter, job training, medical care and a team of coworkers with a common purpose. He could finally get his teeth fixed. And after his discharge, he received financial help to go to college and a government-guaranteed no-money-down home loan.

In the Navy, he learned to be responsible, disciplined, accountable, selfless and loyal. Lessons he would carry into marriage, fatherhood and ownership of a small business. As an enlisted “sailor” he became a part of a community of people from all over our country. People different from those in his small town. And he traveled to parts of the world he never would have experienced outside the military: Egypt, Israel, Greece, Spain, Italy, and even Norfolk, Va.

And yet, he also spent months on the USS Nimitz aircraft carrier off the shore of Iran in 1979 during what is commonly referred to as “The Iranian Hostage Crisis.” It was there, away from family and friends, on a boat off the shore of a potential powder keg, where he weighed the cost of that social safety net he needed.

Another reason I so admire the personnel who serve in our military is their commitment to self-sacrifice. I had the great honor to meet 100-year-old Tom Rice, who on June 6, 1944, as a World War II paratrooper jumped onto Omaha Beach in Normandy, France, where thousands of seaborne and airborne troops were slaughtered one after the other so the Allied troops could move in to liberate France. And ultimately stop the genocide of an entire people.

“I sometimes stop and think about what it felt like to be one of their mothers.”

All told, hundreds of thousands of Americans gave their lives for the “other” they didn’t know. I sometimes stop and think about what it felt like to be one of their mothers.

The last reason for my support of our troops is my witness of military personnel’s commitment to commitment.

In the apartment next door during my time living on Coronado Island (the town where our Navy Seals are trained and that is half made up of the North Island Naval Base where Top Gun was filmed), lived a young couple, Nick and Kevyona, and their two little boys. Both husband and wife were enlisted sailors. One worked a shift during the day and one during the night — each taking care of their sons and trying to get some sleep while they were home off shift. When they were required to “go to sea” for weeks at a time, others chipped in to help. The couple often were away from home for holidays and special occasions as are most of our military personnel who are stationed all over the country and world.

A recent heart-warming story of commitment I learned from my time spent with military personnel is that of Sue and Lee, both in their 80s. Last summer they drove across the country to celebrate Lee’s 60th reunion at the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis, Md.

Of the 14 couples they have remained friends with for more than half a century, and met up with at the reunion, 13 were still married to their first spouse they met either in high school or their hometown about 60 years ago. The other was a widower. I believe there are sometimes very necessary reasons one must leave a marriage. But in our present-day world where we use something for an hour or a day and then pile it on top a landfill or dump it in our oceans (shout out to my tribe!), it is encouraging to witness people who have worked hard to honor their promises, remain steadfast and created a world of permanence versus the constant drive for something new.

Having to resort to enlisting in the military isn’t always the ideal, for sure. Our enlisted military service people are disproportionally economically disadvantaged or people of color. There should be other options. Christians who decried Colin Kaepernick taking a knee while applauding an immoral, self-aggrandizing “commander in chief” who never has given two hoots about our military, should stop decrying socialism as an excuse not to share or support education, job training and social programs. They should stop obsessing over 2 Thessalonians 3:10, while conveniently glossing over Acts 4:32-35, not to mention the widow and her two mites.

My husband’s Oath of Enlistment was administered by Lt. Jo Dee Caitlin. (After retirement, Officer Caitlin-Jacob went on to serve as CEO of the Girl Scouts San Diego Council, one of the largest in the nation.) Besides swearing to support and defend the constitution, it is important to know that within the military Enlisted Oath is the promise to obey the orders of the president of the United States. This is no small matter.

In this season of light, a time we are reminded of one who would sacrifice his life for us all, my hope is our military personnel who have been and are willing to lay down their lives for another, in 2024 will be awarded a commander in chief who would do the same for them.

 

Kirsten Christensen Roberts — Christensen is her father’s name and Roberts her husband’s — has made these names her own with a long marriage to her husband, Jim, their two grown kids and many wise older women. She graduated from Biola University in 1987 and had a long career as a CPA in banking and finance in Orange County, Calif.