One fine day at Bahrs Restaurant

Well, I was home from the Army in 1986 visiting my parents with my then-wife, Patricia. I was 20 at the time. My parents and I had a chilly relationship, at best, but for some period of time everyone concerned worked very hard to try and make it work. This story was set during one of those periods where I could say I had parents and they actually tried to do this family thing, to their eternal credit.

Mom and Dad wanted me to wear my dress greens with my new corporal stripes. I was a young paratrooper also and they liked showing everyone they did a good job as parents, I guess, and me growing up and being in the Army was somehow proof of that for them. Anyway, it's not that much to do, as I saw it. So, I got into the greens, topped off with my maroon beret and jacket with the 525 patch and the "Airborne" tab on top. I had some ribbons on and some shiny stuff on my chest. I was just hoping I didn't drop anything on my greens when eating, as fish is notoriously oily and I didn't want to buy any new stuff when I returned to Ft. Bragg.

Everything was going fine. My ex-wife was always charming and my father really liked her (more than me, I think. lol). Everyone was laughing and having a good time and I didn't spill a thing on my uniform. Inevitably I had to use the bathroom ('inevitably' everyone does at some point). So, my beret is tucked under my shoulder thing on top of the uniform and it was visible.

There I am, contemplating how nice a day this was -- using the urinal in the men's room at Bahr's Restaurant in Highlands, NJ and it was busy. Well, it was Sunday and eating places like Bahr's gets a lot of family traffic over the weekend. So, there were a lot of men in the restroom.

All of a sudden, this big burly guy yells out, "Hey! hey! Maroon beret over here! Paratrooper!" He startled me so much I jumped and narrowly avoided an unfortunate stain. "Hey pal! You a badass or something!?" I took it he was talking to me but my back was to him, naturally, and I said, "Well, not right now. Can this wait until I'm done?" There was a pause and as I was finishing he said, "You don't have to be all stuck up cause you're in uniform, buddy!" I finished and was washing my hands when I responded, "Well, I'm not stuck up. I don't usually have conversations with guys while I am either standing at a urinal or taking a piss. So I want to get to my surf and turf and if you could please get out of the way I'd like to do that."

So, as I headed back to the table, the unknown burly man shouted after me (from his bathroom cave), "Hey, f--k you, pal. I hope you fall on your f--king head and break your f--king neck!"

These days I am not the oldest of old vets but I have some gray hairs. Younger vets seemingly always want civilians to understand what they have been through and their unique needs in getting back on their feet in regular society. When asked, I always say about the same thing: As a group, or individually in uniform, a lot of people do not know how to take members or former members of the armed forces, especially messed up ones. It seems they are either afraid of them, or hate the fact the VA or DoD gets substantial funding, or somehow believe service members or veterans "have it good" on all the government concern and programs offered for them. Just being a service member or a veteran can, for a chunk of the population, be something that solicits a strong reaction, be it positive or negative. This is my experience after 48 years or so. The way I handle it as a vet and how I handled it as a service member, was just not identifying myself as a veteran and leaving it at that.

I tend to think cynically, I suppose. But, I don't need strong reactions either way. Life is hard enough, and packed with enough drama, without having any I don't solicit or wish to indulge in.

Once, during a dining in, my former battalion commander at a unit I belonged to, was drunk when he came to the microphone and said with a deep slur, "You know, I actually hate civilians. I just hope my kids join the Army when they're old enough so I don't have to hate them." Well, nothing said at a dining in is ever up for being reported afterward so the comment never went anywhere. Yet, while I do not agree with  the substance or extent of the BC's message, I do understand its core: There is a difference between military people and civilians; there is a gulf between the two kinds of people that requires a lot of work to bridge, if anyone were so inclined (and most people of either side are all that inclined).