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I carry one of my dog tags with me. I keep it on my key chain where I can see it and touch it occasionally. It’s a good reminder of my short time in the Army.
Don’t get me wrong. My time in the Army was filled with more downs than ups. I went through some of the worst experiences in my life while I was in the Army. I do not know if I would enlist if I had to do it all over again. It was a mixed bag for me and not in a good way, really.
So why do I keep my dog tag where I can see it? That is a fair question. It is hard to explain to people who have not been in the military. If I had to answer, I would say that it is a representation of the difficult relationship that I had with the U.S. Army and military life in general. It was not all that I wanted it to be but I do not want to forget it either.
I can rub my thumb over the lettering of the tag. There are five lines of text on the tag face. These five lines contain all of the information that is important to the Army. Looking at the information, I have to laugh a bit about what the Army saw as important versus what I would put on my own dog tag.
My last name is on the first line. It lists my maiden name since I was still single when I enlisted. The next line has my first name. That sums up how the military sees soldiers. You are always addressed by your surname. Your first name is not really that important. The only reason that your first name is needed is to differentiate you from any other Smith or Jones.
The third line has my social security number. The numbers are together with no spacing between them. There are no dashes. I have always wondered why there were no dashes but have never been able to find out the reason. Maybe it is for expediency. In times of battle, every keystroke counts towards getting a dog tag processed and onto a soldier’s neck.
The fourth line has my blood type: O POS. That one is fully understandable but the most telling. A soldier’s job is to do battle. Battles create death and injury. Both lead to bloodletting. The issuing sergeant asked me to confirm the blood type. Twice. He looked at me with a serious expression and made sure that I had read what I wrote on the form.
The last line is my religion. I was baptized in a Baptist church but later switched to Methodist. After a moment’s hesitation, I chose Methodist. Again, this is a not-so-subtle reminder for any soldier. The Chaplain who would preside over my dying body would perform a religious ceremony for me based on the information on my dog tag. Although I was comforted by this knowledge, it left me a bit shaken. I could die and someone whom I did not know would pray over my dead body.
The dog tag has a fine ridge around it. I can run my fingers around it and feel the slight ridge and the indentations of the words and numbers typed on the metal.
I am proud of my service to my country. I volunteered. I will not say that I joined for the most patriotic of reasons, though. I needed the money for college and the Army was the best way to get that money. Also, there has been a member of my father’s family in one branch of the military or the other all the way back to the Civil War. So, there was a bit of the family pride thing going on there.
Regardless of the reasons for joining, I am proud that I enlisted and served my country. It was hard but rewarding in several ways, even if my time in was not as smooth as I had hoped.
I think about John Kerry and wonder if he keeps his tags where he can touch them. Having been through battle, I am sure that the significance of his dog tags is a bit different than mine but I would think that he would keep them near. I imagine that he is proud of his tags the way that I am. After all, they are one of the smallest reminders of a big sacrifice, aren’t they? Also, what is an attack from the rabid right once you have been through enemy fire? All it would take is one touch of those cool metals tags to remind you of a real firefight.
I then wonder about George Bush and his dog tags. Where are they? Did he even keep them? After all, he joined the Guard to get out of combat. He was forced to join by his family and political aspirations, either on his or his father’s part. Credible sources say that he partied throughout his time in the Guard and failed to finish up his term. With that kind of history, would I want my tags there to remind me of a duty unwanted, unfulfilled? Would I want to keep a symbol of a failure to complete service to my country?
My service to the country was not in battle nor distinguished by medals. It was an average “hitch” by any account. The point is that my time in the Army was honorable. I volunteered, sweated it out, and stayed in until my honorable discharge. Like John Kerry, I have very little reason not to look at my dog tags, lest they reflect back at me in shame for a job not well done.
I put my key chain back in my purse and zip the pocket. The tags rattle when I take the keys out to get into my car. I like hearing them rattle. It reminds me that I am a veteran of the U.S. Army and that I have every reason to be proud of my service and the service of troops like John Kerry.
My dog tags are a small token of my military service, a sign of the brotherhood and sisterhood of veterans to which I belong, and a reminder that I owe a debt of gratitude to those like John Kerry who did fight the fight for this country.
I am a proud veteran. I am a proud Democrat. I am a proud supporter of John Kerry.
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