Thread of War

Whether it be the Civil War dead at Antietam, a shell-shocked soldier in European trenches or Marines raising the flag atop Iwo Jima, the iconic images of every major American conflict have revealed both the horrors of combat and valor on the battlefield. For better or worse, war photography has always wielded an undeniable influence in the court of public opinion.

That power grew exponentially during Vietnam, when the proliferation of television allowed such images to reach into homes on nightly newscasts nationwide. Photos of the My Lai massacre and that of a young Vietnamese girl running naked through the street as napalm melted away her skin began to sway public opinion against the war.

I came home to people spitting on men I served with and civilians calling us baby killers. Until recently, it seemed civilians thought Afghanistan veterans fought the good war, and we fought the bad one, because everyone was on board after 9/11. When talking to my friend Chris, a Marine Corps veteran of Afghanistan, he agreed and attributed the disconnect to growing up hearing family members tell him, “We lost Vietnam.”

That changed last summer when the image of a Chinook helicopter hovering above the U.S. Embassy in Kabul made its rounds on social media. Chris said, “I saw that and thought to myself, ‘Afghanistan is my Vietnam now.’ It made me feel far more connected to Vietnam vets than I had ever felt before.”

Frankly, I felt dismayed when I saw what unfolded in Afghanistan. I couldn’t believe it was happening to our troops again,50 years later.

Something that ties Vietnam and Afghanistan veterans together is all the negative and conflicting feelings one can have after their country pulls out from a war.

While each generation has its own unique traits, the military experience—especially that of a war zone—is a unifying thread. Veterans share a distinctive connection, something DAV (Disabled American Veterans) has seen passed down from its members, beginning with those who fought during World War I.

When service members are deployed to battle zones, they are sent there to do their job. And many of them just hope their family and the American public appreciate it. In fact, some of the most heartwarming thanks I have ever received for my service came from the post-9/11 generation.

For myself, Chris and many other veterans I have the pleasure of knowing, one strong connection we all share is that we don’t look back at our time in uniform with regret. I know I was there for a reason and if I had not gone into the military, my life would be so unbelievably different. It changed it for the far better.


What continues for many veterans is our internal battle, but that’s a war we can all win. What helps me is focusing on my mental health and that of my fellow veterans, however I can, and on the good that came for many people of Afghanistan.

As a national service officer with DAV, I saw many of my fellow Vietnam veterans struggle to cope with the emotional wounds of war for four decades. Like Chris, they wrestled with the meaning of the sacrifices they and others made on the battlefield.

I know all too well the range of emotions that veterans of Afghanistan experienced when we pulled out of the country. My biggest concern, though, is that their emotions and attitudes toward how things ended over there could negatively affect their mental health. More than anything, I want all veterans to know that their service and sacrifice matters, and no picture can ever change that.

DAV: Fulfilling out promises to the men and women who served