Thank You For Your Service

I felt that I should volunteer for two short years to do my part, and so I asked the local draft board, “Make me next, I want to serve.” The letter came from Uncle Sam. It told me to do and when. They gave me a green uniform, as orders flew from all directions. The food was good, the hours long, as training turned us into men. Our hair was short, our pay was low, just sixty-three dollars a month. I went to war my second year and lived behind a wire fence. A prison term is what it seemed. It felt like incarceration. When it was over, I came home with ribbons on my uniform. “Distinguished Service” was awarded, by the officer in charge. Fifty years have come and gone, but still I hear that special phrase, from some who say to veterans, “Thank you for your service.”