It seems strange to previous generations that anyone would even ask such a question.  They knew who the veterans were – they were their fathers; their grandfathers; their brothers and sisters; themselves; or, most worrying of all, their children.

But ever since we abolished the draft as a means to fulfill the obligations that our civilian leadership deems necessary for the security of the nation, a smaller and smaller percentage of Americans actually serve.  In fact, less than 1 in every 200 Americans is currently in the armed forces.  How many people among the 199 know that person?  Twenty?  Forty?  A very large segment of the population knows no one serving and no one who has served.

We have gained something and we have lost something in this transition.  Yes, our service members today serve because they have a strong sense of patriotism, or because it is the best way up and out of a life that offers them either too little challenge or too little opportunity.  They may have heard that it is a meritocracy that works better than almost any other institution, or they want to experience firsthand the camaraderie that shared hardships offer, or maybe they are the kind of individual who wants to prove himself early on in life.  Usually it is some combination of these.  The result is a more professional military where lifetime friendships are made with colleagues and comrades who know how to do things right and most often try their damnedest to do the right thing.

There are no “jumpin’ junkies” in this military, no one who whines that his daddy couldn’t buy him a deferment or the stupid doctor said his back was just fine.  You can actually trust the man on your right and the one on your left to save your life just as you would theirs.  No fragging, no divide between the Harvard dropout and the poverty-hobbled the-Army-or-jail enlistee. 

But along the way we have lost that great leveler that crossed class, racial, and economic boundaries.  We veterans learned so much from each other, and it wasn’t always about military skills.  We learned how other people lived; what they thought; and, often, what it was in their upbringing that caused them to think and talk and act in a way somewhat different from the way we were brought up.

When I grew up, I didn’t know we were poor because my military family was around mostly other military families, and we were all poor!  I grew up with playmates who weren’t just different colors, but who spoke different languages and wore different clothes and ate different food.  But for most draftees, it was a revelation to realize there were people in this great country who weren’t like themselves.  They discovered different cuisines, different accents, and different outlooks and opportunities.  We all came home richer for that experience.

Who are the veterans?  They’re you if you’ve served, and you know very well what I mean.  If you haven’t, they’re still you, but slightly different.  They’ve seen things no one should have to see.  They’ve often faced odds no one should have to face.  They’ve fought the most devious and vicious of fighters, and they’ve seen the small tear on a little girl’s face because they saved her life, her family, or her village.  No words need be spoken, so veterans don’t talk all that much about what they’ve seen or had to do for their buddies or the civilians they encounter while deployed.

Some are boastful, of course, but that’s often because they are young and proud of what they’ve grown to become.  That’s understandable.  Others brag about things that never happened because they don’t want to say they served stateside as a personnel clerk.  The thing is, those of us doing a different job don’t disparage them for that at all.  Somebody has to make sure we get a new assignment or get that paycheck on time.  Besides, it’s purely the luck of the draw where one is assigned.  And bravado lasts only until the day you hold the buddy you’ve come to love and respect as a brother in your arms, knowing that his injuries are fatal and you cannot save him.

I work with a lot of the best of the best even today.  I have the honor and privilege of serving on the board of the OASIS Group.  We assist those most often deployed and most often at the tip of the spear as they transition to civilian life: Army Special Forces and Rangers, Navy SEALs, Air Force Pararescuemen, and Special Tactics members – and, if we can raise the funds, soon the Marine Raiders as well.  Working with these special operators, I also get to meet some of their families, who have had such hardships themselves and yet are seldom discussed at all when we think of veterans.

My own mom grew up in the shadow of WWII.  She was 12 when it began for the USA, 16 when it ended.  She didn’t know if her daddy would return from WWII.  She didn’t know if her husband would return from two tours in Vietnam.  And she didn’t know if her son would return from his various deployments in some of the world’s garden spots.  Yet she persevered.  No one ever saw the toll this must have taken.

So please, do make the time to find out if any of your relatives have ever served.  Or your friends or your neighbors.  Don’t ask them if war is hell; it is much worse than hell.  Just ask what their memories are and where they went and whom they met.  Don’t forget their families, either.  Those who wait at home, fearing to pick up the phone or answer the knock at the door.  Talk to them, and listen. 

Worried about the higher suicide rate for veterans and PTSD​ and wish you could do something?​

Sometimes a friend, or a neighbor, or even a stranger as you share a cup of coffee or a beer is better than any professional counseling they could receive.  To you, they’re not a client, and to them you’re just someone curious, friendly, and willing to listen.  Knowing that one of the other 199 really does care about their sacrifices, experiences, and future could make all the difference in the world – for them and you.

Mr. Shaefer, a retired U.S. Air Force brigadier general, is a ​speaking member of the National Security Forum and a board member of the OASIS Group.