Boarding before Others

At the airport, should military servicemen and veterans get special consideration? Readers weigh in.

(Photo by Marco López on Unsplash)

Last month, I jotted a Copenhagen journal, which I published in two parts: here and here. It began with a few words about boarding—boarding at the airport in New York. Let me paste a paragraph:

The [gate] agent invites members of the military, past and present, to board first. This is a nice tip o’ the hat. A nice honoring. But I wonder: Does any serviceman or vet think it’s a little condescending, a little embarrassing, or a little unnecessary?

I invited readers of mine to give me their thoughts. Which they did. Today, I will publish a sampling of their responses. These responses are varied, and they include some interesting stories.

Here and now, let me thank all readers, for their responses.

Several were along the lines of this one:

I think it’s great—and speaks highly of us as a nation—that the invitation to board first is extended to servicemen and vets. If someone feels condescended to—which I can understand—he or she does not have to accept the invitation. But I appreciate that the option exists.

Another reader writes,

As an active-duty Coast Guard officer whose father and brother also serve, I can say that it’s nice to have a little “tip o’ the hat.” If I’m with my fiancée, though, I will wait with her so we can board together.

I’ll likely not see combat given my service and specialty, so I do feel a little unsettled about joining a combat vet in the queue. Everyone in the military sacrifices, some sacrifice more than others, some give all.

Another:

I have two active-duty sons: one a Marine pilot, the other a Navy pilot. While they are occasionally willing to accept the odd military discount for this or that admission to a museum, or the waiving of baggage fees, neither would dream of getting on a plane before other passengers because of his service. It just doesn’t fit with their concept of serving rather than being served—if that makes sense?

Brace yourself (and I appreciate the candor of this reader, and others):

It’s condescending to the military. It infantilizes them. It puts them in a category with people “needing extra time to board” (which means the elderly, the handicapped, and so on) and “families traveling with small children.”

Also, it’s offensive to the rest of us. Why do they get special treatment? We pay their salaries and benefits. (The latter can last a lifetime.) Employment by one of the armed services doesn’t automatically represent a sacrifice or make you noble or heroic.

Some students are in law school because of a passion for the rule of law or a desire to do justice; others are there because they see it as a ticket to wealth. Likewise, some people join the military out of patriotism or a desire to serve, but others join because they have no better option.

Conscription hasn’t existed for our entire adult lifetimes, so no one has a gun to anyone’s head; the military is a career that people choose.

This boarding first is profoundly anti-egalitarian, smacking of nomenklatura-like privilege. I resent the practice deeply (as you may have gathered).

Says a reader,

I agree that singling out vets for special treatment can be embarrassing and unnecessary. I was a Supply Corps officer onboard a destroyer (1969–72), mostly off the coast of Vietnam. I am always happy to get my veteran’s discount, but I don’t need the “Thank you for your service.” I joined and served honorably and well, but that was 50-plus years ago, and it was just part of my duty as an American.

Many non-veterans have also served our country honorably and well—in all sorts of fields.

I’m going to let the tape run a little on this one—settle in:

I served in the Submarine Force from 1988–93. I was more favorably disposed toward receiving perks when I was active-duty than I am now, when I’ve been out for decades. A few examples come immediately to mind.

Once, I was in my dress-blue uniform attending a college friend’s wedding outside Detroit and ordered a meal at a fast-food restaurant. The staff gave me the meal for free. I didn’t feel too embarrassed about it. At the time, one of my motivations for being in the military was to be part of an elite group, a special fighting force, and getting that special consideration felt pretty nice.

During the Gulf War, I was stationed on a submarine undergoing repairs in San Diego, so I was in no way part of the action. I watched events unfold on CNN as everyone else did. But in that town at that time, parks and museums all offered free admission to active-duty military and their families, and again I didn’t blush much when presenting my military ID to take advantage of those things.

I definitely feel good about perks for today’s active-duty service members, particularly those with small children, given the demands on the family that military service almost always involves.

Being a veteran is a different story—it has been for me, at least. Perhaps I’d feel differently if my five years of service had involved loss of limb, or mental trauma from active-combat danger. But my submarine never fired a shot in anger, and while there are inherent risks to serving in a submerged environment packed with high-energy systems, I came through with all my fingers and toes.

So I blush a bit more these days when, for example, I wear a ballcap that clearly pegs me as a veteran and a store clerk says, “Thank you for your service.”

I don’t begrudge any special consideration for anyone else who served. I don’t know anyone else’s story, what he may have endured. I want us to have a well-run, well-funded Veterans Administration to support all those who need it.

But I can say for me and my time in the service, I got more out of it than America did. …

During my post-military career in the private sector, the company I worked for started to honor the veterans in our midst on November 11. I didn’t always “opt in” and divulge my status as a veteran. Sometimes I did, but I never felt perfectly at ease. As already stated, my service was quite country-club compared with the service of those for whom Armistice Day was originally created.

I’m not above taking a veteran’s perk. Having recently learned that the National Park Service offers free lifetime “America the Beautiful” passes to all of our parks, I jumped through the hoops to obtain one. But should this really be a perk? I have mixed feelings.

For one thing, my own tax dollars are at work. For another, I’m at a stage of life where I’m much more able to pay my own way—and a few others’—than when I was a young’un.

Final thought: My feelings about Social Security and Medicare largely mirror the thoughts above about veteran’s benefits. I’m just a few years away from being eligible for Medicare, and know that my health premiums will drop significantly then, even as I’m perfectly able to pay for private insurance. I find credible the analysis saying that I’m actuarially likely to get more out of these programs than I contributed to them over my lifetime, and I’d be A-OK with reforms that lowered benefits or means-tested recipients, raised required annual contributions, or some combination.

America owes me nothing—and I owe America quite a lot.

One more response, from a reader:

The question of caps for veterans has come up in my family. I am a Vietnam veteran. I was assigned to a MACV advisory team in the Mekong Delta. It was a moderate-risk situation, somewhere between a rifleman in the jungle and a staffer in air-conditioned Long Binh. I think I did useful work, in the context of the time, for a cause that was both noble and unrealistic and very badly managed.

My wife and daughters have asked several times whether I want a cap with a unit logo and earned ribbons and medals. I have declined. I am proud of my service, and offer respectful regards to wearers, but don’t see the need to be public about it.

To all active-duty military and veterans: thank you for your service. Now, that is a phrase, a sentence, about which many people feel ambivalent.

In 2017, I asked Ash Carter about it. We were doing a podcast. Carter had worked in military affairs for a long time, from Reagan through Obama. His last position was secretary of defense.

About “Thank you for your service,” he said, “If you mean it, you should say it.” He further said,

I’m so glad that I wasn’t secretary of defense during the Vietnam period, because it would have broken my heart to see our troops treated the way they were, as though they were decision-makers. I understand a lot of people didn’t want to be in that war—and, by the way, a lot of the troops didn’t want to be in that war—but they had done their duty, and they did not deserve to be disrespected when they came home, and they were.

In a column two years ago, I wrote,

There are all sorts of people one might thank for their service: teachers, cops, nurses, clergymen, moms, dads. Entrepreneurs. (No one ever thinks of them. But without them, our lives would be so much poorer.)

Thanking—err on the side of too much, I would say.

So, thanks to one and all.