It’s no secret that the United States has long glorified the courage and selflessness of our patriots. We have no shame in our dedication to military prowess, proudly labeling ourselves as “the land of the free, and the home of the brave.”  While the United States government is quick to proclaim their support for the brave men and women who serve our country, the blood is on their hands when it comes to the trauma and sudden demise that our soldiers face when they come home.

One day in my freshman year of high school, military soldiers set up a table in the quad of my school. As I walked from my classroom to my lunch spot, I watched as students gathered around to listen to the spiel the soldiers were giving. They handed out informational pamphlets, their freshly pressed uniforms standing in stark contrast to the overflowing trash cans and students yelling outside the cafeteria. “You can make something of your life, give yourself some direction,” one of them said. “The service needs young people like you.” I watched as a 17-year-old boy, six inches shorter and twenty pounds lighter than the soldiers surrounding him, furrowed his brow and looked intently at the handout he was given, and I thought back to what I had seen just a few weeks earlier. 

I was driving in my mom’s car, staring out the window as we passed down the unfamiliar Los Angeles streets. The flashy cars and sparkling suburbia sped past us, blurring into alleyways and underpasses crowded with tent cities. As we pulled up to a red light, I watched as a middle-aged man did jumping jacks on the sidewalk. He was wearing no shirt, army-style camouflage pants, and a bike helmet that looked like it was made for a young boy. In front of him a sign read, “Veteran in need, anything will help.” He continued his exercise, ignorant to the stares he was attracting. Had anyone even tried to give him help? To offer the same type of support that he got at the beginning of his service? Maybe at one point in his life he was also a high school student who dreamt of the glory that the service was supposed to provide him with. 

Ten years from now, would the young boy who was reading the pamphlet be back on the high school campus, giving the same lecture to students that he was receiving now? Or would his life look more like the man doing jumping jacks on a busy Los Angeles sidewalk, the trauma he faces during service distorting his reality and the future he thought he would have? While the soldiers told him what his life in the army was supposed to look like, they never told him that if his life turned out differently after his service, no one would be there to offer the same protection that he was so willing to give to others. Regardless of what his future looks like, should he choose to join the military, the direction of his life will be shaped by a society that glorified his willingness to sacrifice himself. 

The U.S. government has no shame in packing off eager young boys to join the service and turning a blind eye when they come home as crippled and traumatized men. In order to properly protect our citizens, we must offer support to those who have endangered their lives for their country, and adequately inform them of all that their heroism means. If we continue to fail our soldiers in this way, we’ll be the home of the brave and the land of their destruction.