The military experience made us the ethical persons we are and gave us a great sense of understanding of the people around us. Like it or not it gave us an experience we will never forget. Occasionally, I venture back to an Army Post, where I'm greeted by an imposing security guard who looks carefully at my Military ID, and then hands it back and says, "Have a good day, Sir.”

Every time I go back to any Post it feels good to be called by my previous rank, but odd to be in civilian clothes, walking among the servicemen and servicewomen going about their duties as I once did, many years ago.

The military is a comfort zone for anyone who has ever worn the uniform. It's a place where you know the rules and know they are enforced—a place where everybody is busy, but not too busy to take care of business.

Because there exists behind the gates of every military facility an institutional understanding of respect, order, uniformity, accountability and dedication that becomes part of your marrow and never, ever leaves you.

Personally, I miss the fact that you always knew where you stood in the military, and who you were dealing with. That's because you could read somebody's uniform from 20 feet away and know the score.

Military personnel wear their careers on their sleeves, so to speak. When you approach each other, you can read their name tag, examine their rank and, if they are in dress uniform, read their ribbons and know where they've served.

I miss all those little things you take for granted when you're in the ranks, like breaking starch on a set of fatigues fresh from the laundry and standing in a perfectly straight line military formation that looks like a mirror as it stretches to the endless horizon.

I miss the sight of troops marching in the early morning mist, the sound of boot heels thumping in unison on the tarmac, the bark of drill instructors and the sing-song answers from the squads as they pass by in review.

To romanticize military service is to be far removed from its reality, because it's very serious business—especially in times of war.

But I miss the salutes I had the privilege to return as we soldiers criss-crossed with a "Good morning sir".

I miss the smell of aircraft fuel hanging heavily on the night air and the sound of engines roaring down runways and rotor blades ‘whooping’ as they disappear into the clouds.

I even miss the hurry-up-and-wait mentality that soldiers gripe about constantly, a masterful invention that bonded people more than they'll ever know or admit.

I miss people taking off their hats when they enter a building, speaking directly and clearly to others and never showing disrespect for rank, race, religion or gender.

Mostly, I miss being a small cog in a machine so complex it constantly circumnavigates the Earth, and so simple it feeds everyone on time, three times a day, on the ground, in the air or at sea.

Mostly, I don't know anyone who has served who regrets it, and who doesn't feel a sense of pride when they pass through those gates and re-enter the world they left behind with their youth.

I wish I could express my thoughts as well about something I loved—and even hated sometimes.

Let’s face it—we all miss it. Whether you had one tour or a career, it shaped your life. A Veteran, whether active duty, retired, served one hitch, or reservist, is someone who, at one point in his or her life, wrote a blank check made payable to "The Government of the United States of America", for an amount of "up to and including their life." That is honor, and there are too many people in this country who no longer understand it.

– Author unknown – 

Max Holt, Class 02-67, Association Chaplain