Eighty years ago, the beaches of Normandy, France, were a hellish place. The sea literally ran red with the blood of Allied soldiers torn apart by the defenders of the German Wehrmacht. But with every step, American soldiers pressed on, making great sacrifices.
On the day of the Normandy landings, these young men, driven by loyalty to their country and with no regard for themselves, attacked Adolf Hitler’s Atlantic Wall. Thousands of them gave their lives to liberate Western Europe from the greatest evil the world had ever seen, and the remains of these brave men lie in repose in France to this day.
By 2021, the number of veterans who died by suicide in the post-9/11 wars was four times higher than the number who died in the wars themselves.
After World War II, returning veterans were rightly hailed as heroes, but beyond that momentary acclaim, nearly an entire generation of American men had a common bond and an unspoken friendship they could rely on.
An implicit support system for veterans naturally emerged, complementing existing organizations such as the Veterans of Foreign Wars, the American Legion, and new initiatives such as the GI Bill of 1944. Readjusting to civilian life was not easy (some never did), but society tried to help as many veterans as possible recover from the trauma of the war.
Twenty years later, the same could not be said about those who fought in Vietnam.
They were greeted by hostile crowds filled with false anger. Our veterans were jeered and spat on. There was no culture of gratitude across the country for their sacrifice, and no institutions to support these veterans as they readjusted to civilian life.
Drug use and suicide were rampant among Vietnam veterans trying to make sense of the horrors they witnessed and why so many of their compatriots had been ungrateful.
The post-9/11 wars in Afghanistan and Iraq have shed new light on the phenomenon of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), particularly as veterans returning from the Middle East have revealed increased suicidal thoughts and struggles adjusting to life at home.
But our agencies have been slow to recognize the problem and even slower to act. A 2013 Department of Veterans Affairs study found that the suicide rate for our service members and servicewomen was 22 veterans — Not for a year, every dayIn just over an hour, another American lost his life in service to his country by his own hand.
As heartbreaking as the deaths overseas in Afghanistan and Iraq were, they were only a fraction of the wave of suicides those conflicts have caused after soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines returned home. By 2021, four times In the post-9/11 wars, as many veterans died by suicide as were casualties of the wars themselves.
America went from caring for veterans to ignoring their descent into opioid addiction, isolation, and bankruptcy, as both the public and private institutions that serve veterans weakened over time.
In fairness, many wonderful private charities that have grown up in recent years are working hard to reverse this trend by providing thorough care to as many veterans as possible. They are truly saving lives.
But our public institutions have much room for improvement, especially when it comes to veterans’ financial hardship, long wait times for treatment, and inadequate mental health supports. It is long past time for us as a society to address this inequity.
On the 70th anniversary of the Normandy landings, I spoke with former French member of parliament, Dr. Claude Gatignol, in Sainte-Mère-Église, near the church where John Steele witnessed the carnage on the ground in the film The Longest Day.
As the Confederate national anthems were played, the crowd sang America’s “The Star-Spangled Banner” with fervent conviction and reverence, followed by the French national anthem, and the entire square joined in unison. We nodded to each other, tears of pride streaming down our cheeks, knowing it was meant to be.
This powerful display of unity and pride, forever etched in my memory, symbolizes the fortitude and sacrifice of those who came before us. In moments like these, we are reminded of the high price of freedom and the shared values that bind us. It must always be this way.
As we look back 80 years to the Normandy landings and remember those who gave their final sacrifice, we must honor the memory of those who died and care for their brothers — not just blood brothers, but comrades in arms, a bond that transcends time.
It is our duty to provide our veterans with all the support they need.
No more excuses. Let’s remember those we’ve lost by cherishing those who still remain.
