FROM COMBAT TO CONCRETE: THE UNSPOKEN WAR OF HOMELESS VETERANS

The men I knew who lived on the streets didn’t mind it much. We didn’t have much to begin with, and after the war, what was one more hardship? We’d been through worse. That was the thing. The streets were no different than the jungle. Or the battlefield. You fought to survive. You stuck together. And you didn’t let the world tell you who you were.

In the ’80s and ’90s, veterans were many people you’d see under the bridges and in the doorways. They were the forgotten ones who’d given everything and left with nothing. The government had failed them. But that was no surprise. It was the same as in the war — left in the dark by those who never had to fight. Still, over time, things improved. Slowly. The numbers decreased from more than thirty percent to eight or ten percent. But you don’t forget the ones who fell through the cracks. You’re always thinking of them.

There’s a lesson in all of this, though. The greatest thing I learned from that war was there’s greatness in people. It’s always there, hiding just beneath the surface. The right circumstances, the right moment, and that greatness shows itself. I saw it when I watched men carry their brothers out of hell, when I saw them running into the fire, knowing they might not make it but going anyway. It’s in those moments that you know the truth about a person.

I’ve seen that same greatness in the men and women who endure tough times. The ones who give everything to save someone else and those who run into…