Two generations ago, my country — my neighbors — asked me to stand in harm’s way. I stepped up to do so, as did my grandfather, father, uncles, brothers-in-law, son, daughter, son-in-law, nephews and grand-nephew.
I donned the uniform, that “baggy green skin,” which was uncomfortable in summer and in winter. I accepted a battery of shots in both shoulders, followed affectionately by 20 pushups.
I surrendered for a time many of my freedoms — freedom of choice, of movement and of privacy. I did this because I love my country.
Now, my neighbors ask me again to stand in harm’s way. They ask me to don a tiny paper mask, uncomfortable in summer and in winter. They ask me to submit to a single vaccine, but without the pushups. They ask me to limit for a time a few of my freedoms — freedom to gather unmasked with others, freedom to … well, that’s about it.
I do this because I love my neighbors.
No, sir, I am not a sheep. I am a veteran.
Steve Brown
Chehalis
