I think therefore that honouring soldiers as soldiers is what many people try to do, but I think that it’s not really what makes them happier. They honour each other as soldiers, they salute, they offer respect to the memories of those with whom they fought. I can’t do that, I wasn’t there and if I tried it wouldn’t mean anything. Instead I try to make a point of talking to some of the men with pins for a while. I ask them when and how they served (not one fails to stand taller when they tell me, not one) and I tell them, if they tell me that they saw combat, that I’m glad that they are not among the fallen. Sometimes I hear an anecdote or two from their records, and sometimes I talk about my ancestral links to the war and the fact that had things gone differently in the war I might not have been born - for lack of one or either parent.

I honestly think that interacting with vets like they and we are real people demonstrates that there were real people that they were helping. That not only did Mary and Sue make it through, but little Jim now has kids who now have kids around two and who cry at loud excitement, and they’re all still people who are still worth keeping safe. I think that’s how to really show vets that they’re appreciated.

I’ve never had anyone try to kill me, and I’ve never tried to kill anyone, so it would be ridiculous to say that I understand someone who’s trained to handle both, let alone who’s experienced both. What we have in common is that I’m sure that there are people all around me that I want to stay safe and happy and alive and I am willing to go to great lengths to ensure that happens. This is what I try to remember and share every November.