The War at Home

He chose a quaint lunchtime café for us to meet and discuss his lifelong military career. Now retired from The Department of Veteran Affairs, Al Alicea-Alvira proudly served 24 years in the U.S. Army, on active duty. Over the course of our meal, we discussed a wide variety of relevant topics, ranging from his faith in God to his life altering experiences patrolling the borders in South Korea; then, later, in Germany. We talked, in great detail, about his career at The Department of Veteran Affairs, where he worked assisting veterans in obtaining their benefits. For me, most enlightening topic we talked about was his life now, as a veteran, and the difficult journey of transition back into civilian life.                    

From the moment of enlistment, being a soldier mattered to Al Alicea-Alvira. It was a serious business. It meant “choosing to do what others would not dare to do, so that all could live free.” It meant that he would be on standby every minute, of every hour, of every single day. He could be called into assembly, at any moment, not knowing if he would return home, or be deployed. Any average, mundane day with his family could have been his last.

When he signed up to be a “G.I.,” which, by the way, stands for “government issued.” Al Alicea-Alvira literally signed away the constitutional rights that most of us take for granted. He gave up his right to protest, demonstrate, or even to disagree at all. At the time when Al enlisted, even the decision of whether or not to attend church wasn’t an option, unless you were specifically excused by a Muslim or Jewish faith. Today, he attends church freely with his son, who also proudly spent four years serving his country, in the United States Air Force. They fought so that the rest of us could CHOOSE to do so as well.

 Al was, thankfully, able to have is family with him during his five and a half year stay in Germany, a luxury not afforded on stays that were to be less than three years. While he humbly speaks of their life on a military base, in a foreign country, to that of any other American family, Al knows that his family did make some sacrifices for his choice. On the other hand, he is also quite proud to have been able to expose his children to such variety in culture. Growing up abroad was a privilege, he says, and  “an experience that no other children around them will ever have.”

Our meals had just arrived when Al began the verbal reenactment of his experiences patrolling the borders in South Korea, in the late 70’s; then, later, in Germany. He described the mental anguish of driving, or walking, along the border, exchanging nods and glances with our county’s known enemies, knowing that they could launch an attack at any time. I felt a glimpse of that emotional uncertainty as he went on to describe the “dead zones” that he patrolled along the East German/Czechoslovakian border, where there was no fence, visible border, or even a radio signal. These “invisible borders” were marked only by small square stones that were embedded deeply into the ground. He described the atmosphere as tense and highly volatile. “The East Germans would bring their vehicles right up to the border, at times, as a show of force. Then,” he said, of course, “We would do the same. It was very scary, to say the least.”

“How does a person retire from that?” I wondered out loud. “What was the hardest thing about coming back home?” I asked. 

“It was the lack of discipline in civilian life,” he answered quickly. “I couldn’t adjust to the attitude of the civilian world.”

He went on to explain that, in the military, literally everything that he did was important. Every seemingly menial task had value and was carried out with excellence because it is done in service to our country, and to our God. For men like Al, life is built around honor, respect, and doing what’s right just because it is right.  

As he spoke of his homecoming, a virtual news reel spun through my mind. I thought of all the graphic images and headlines that we have seen just in this year alone; the riots, race wars, terrorist violence and police brutality. We have seen our leaders bashed, our anthem being mocked, and our flag burned. A burning distain for being governed is ablaze all around us. One certainly doesn’t need to be deployed overseas to feel the devastation of war. Americans have waged war on one another right here at home.

The census bureau recently reported 7 million veterans ,alive right now, in the United States, 5.5 million of whom served in the Gulf War Era. How painfully disrespectful it must be for them to see the American men and women, whom they have left their families and risked their lives to defend, behaving so disgracefully. I pondered that for a moment, as Al pushed my hand away from the check. Still, our conversation ended on the same note as it had begun. Al proclaimed that his military life has been one “of pride and honor.” Even amidst the country’s turmoil, he insisted, “I wouldn’t want to live in any other place.”