SCRANTON — Emblazoned on the back of Lackawanna County Veterans Affairs Director David Eisele’s business card is the quote: “A veteran is someone who, at one point in his life, wrote a blank check made payable to ‘The United States of America’ for the amount of up to and including their life.”
As the quote, whose author is unknown, suggests, the sacrifices of military men and women can be mighty. Some gave their lives for their country, while others returned from service changed by what they saw and did. The America they returned to was different, too, depending on the attitudes and cultures of the eras during which they served.
Three local veterans — Eisele, who enlisted in the Marine Corps in the immediate aftermath of 9/11; Vietnam veteran Irwin Gordon; and 100-year-old World War II veteran Morris Kashuba — served at different times and in different capacities. Yet, they maintain similar perspectives on what it means to be a veteran.
Service and sacrifice
On Sept. 11, 2001, Eisele, now 40, watched the terrorist attacks unfold in real time, left the Dunmore Department of Public Works garage after the twin towers of the World Trade Center fell and drove to a Marine Corps recruiting center to enlist. He wanted to be a grunt.
In May 2002, Eisele suffered serious injuries in a training accident while fast-roping out of a helicopter at Marine Corps Base Camp Lejeune. The helicopter was hovering too high above the ground, and Eisele and others who rappelled out of it ran out of rope on their way down. The accident killed one marine, paralyzed another and caused Eisele to break both legs and seriously injure his back.
Eisele’s best friend was killed in Fallujah in 2004. His friend had a wife and young son, and Eisele, then single, struggled with a survivor’s guilt sometimes more intense than the lasting pain of his injuries.
“I get it now because so many years have gone by, (but) back then it was like, what’s so special about me that I get to come home?” Eisele said, noting he found meaning in helping fellow vets. “I lived it. ... It took me years to get here. Maybe if I get them (help) sooner, it’s not going to be as long for them to bounce back.”
Gordon, 77, who served in the Navy from 1964-68, also lost friends. Now a resident of the Gino J. Merli Veterans’ Center in Scranton, Gordon was born in Nova Scotia, Canada, but took up arms for the United States during the Vietnam War.
“My adopted country asked me to go and I went,” Gordon said. “I forget how many went over, but not all came back. ... Now, they’re someplace, you can’t even pronounce the name, can’t even find it on a map.”
Domestic political and moral objections to Vietnam also shaped the country Gordon fought for. Many returning Vietnam veterans weren’t met with the same support their fathers experienced returning from World War II.
That’s where Kashuba, a former Army Corporal and current Merli Center resident, served his country.
As a quartermaster, Kashuba’s job was different. He often hauled ammunition in military vehicles under the cover of night, and recalled one experience driving a colonel amid a barrage of German flak gun fire. He was shaking and nervous.
“Soldier, don’t worry about them,” Kashuba recalled the colonel telling him. “They’re up above us. Keep on going.’”
After the war, Kashuba said he delivered comic books and other supplies to Paris hospitals.
“I did my duty,” Kashuba said. “I did my best to serve my country.”
Expanded services
Eisele, Gordon and Kashuba represent different generations of veterans, but agree being a veteran means not being afraid to answer the call to service.
Given that service, Eisele said the country and the people they fought to protect should not be afraid to return the favor. That means making sure essential services — including mental health and addiction treatment, group and family counseling and other forms of support — are readily available, along with more routine gestures of gratitude.
Gordon recalled being spit at as he walked to the plane to depart for Vietnam, a far cry from today, when Eisele said people often wait at airports to shake the hands of returning veterans. Absent a strong support system, Gordon said many of his fellow Vietnam veterans turned to drugs, wound up in trouble and ended up in jail.
Support systems for veterans are more robust today than ever before, said Eisele. More niche forms of treatment, such as fitness or equine-based therapy, complement an expanded offering of traditional services available through the VA hospital and other providers.
“A Vietnam vet might have had one or two places to go, where now you can get online and there’s 20 different types of support groups,” said Eisele, whose office helps veterans claim benefits, connect with mental health professionals and more.
Small gestures of kindness directed at veterans can make a big difference, too, he said.
“People always say ‘thank a veteran,’ but maybe on Veterans Day go a little bit further,” Eisele said. “Say, ‘hey ... thanks for your service. How are you today? Is there anything I can do for you?’ Because that will definitely go a long, long way.”
Contact the writer:
jhorvath@timesshamrock.com;
570-348-9141;
@jhorvathTT on Twitter