Veterans Hospital~ The Walking Wounded

  The buildings are large and brick and colonial. They stand,looming against the skyline like some regal established institution. Impressively they fly flags up the boulevard to the impressive wide mansion like front steps... That is the "official" and very impressive entrance to the Veterans Hospital, most visitors enter there.
But, for the wounded warriors needing immediate care, they find their entrance way in the back of the building where it is posted: "ER Entrance".

The soldier arrives in pain, and in hopes of finding relief and caring hands to provide the much needed medical attention. What the warrior finds in passing threw the ER doors, is a reception counter with no one at it. No friendly greetings or caring attention, but instead an adjacent waiting room hosting all kinds of people sitting quietly in the chairs, looking weary and tired. Some look in pain. It's as if the room had a silent code that you come and sit down and endure, without question.

Some of these warriors joked around, and some sat quietly. Some walked around in obvious pain.... but, no one was complaining. They had long ago learned the discipline of 'endurance, and something in them still stands strong. Some lingering spirit of the true warrior. The Warrior that stares death in the face, yet recoils not. That when faced with a choice to run and save his own life, he stands with his wounded buddy,perhaps giving his own life to save another's.

I saw all this valor and strong spirit deep in the haunting eyes of these men and women. I saw the commitment to battle, no matter what. The common code among them learned a long time ago, on some forlorn battle ground, or some muddy cold foxhole.
These, our warriors, the protectors of our land, sitting valiantly, enduring their ill treatment. War heroes of renown, of battles long ago fought,that ensured our freedoms of today. They paid the price, often with limb and life...

I was put in their realm today. I had to visit that Veteran Hospital,sit in that 'adjacent waiting room, and feel ignored for hours on end. I couldnt help but look around now and then and wonder at the lack of care and concern that this hospital was providing. In scanning the crowd, I dared not look them in the eye, confirming to them that I too now saw them in their state of fallen grace. For,
at this place, they arnt the brave war hero's, fighting for the land, but simply worn and torn and tired souls, hanging on to what shred of dignity that is left for them. I couldn't help but see the old shredded camo's, the beards overgrown, and the red weary eyes. I quickly looked away, for I knew they didn't want my sympathy, nor my pity, for these are the Brave, the Strong, the Warriors of our land.
Had I not visited there today, I really would not have understood.. ....
Please remember these, our tired warriors, the men and women that went in our place, to ensure our freedoms....
Freedom to pray. To hold sacred assembly. To honor God.
Pray for these souls....
God Bless...
~Valerie~ Fort Bragg Fayetteville, North Carolina