Semper Fi, Slow Service, and Standing Ovations: My Veterans Week Dispatch

Semper Fi, Slow Service, and Standing Ovations: My Veterans Week Dispatch

Veterans Week is always a special time, but this year was an absolute clinic in brotherhood, history, and, of course, expert-level wisecracking.

The week kicked off in the best possible way: the Marine Corps Birthday. Bright and early, I was at the Honor Cafe in Conroe, sharing breakfast with Marines from several different generations. The owner, a fellow Marine, had decorated the place with historical uniforms—a fantastic display that sparked some great banter.

The highlight of the morning came when one of our own, a sharp Master Sergeant, looked at an antique set of WWI dress blues and, with perfect deadpan delivery, asked a nearby Vietnam veteran (a Marine Captain), “Captain, are those yours?”

The resulting chorus of chuckles was immediate and glorious. We all shared a laugh, but the Master Sergeant might owe the Captain a cup of coffee for that one. That’s the Corps for you—always finding the humor, even across a century of service.

The Honor and the Headache

Veterans Day itself was a shift in tempo. I enjoyed a great breakfast with an Army Vietnam Vet and a Navy veteran. It was a true inter-service rendezvous, but sadly, the restaurant was painfully understaffed. They had one single waitress trying to serve a packed room of veterans and civilians. We all felt awful for her; it was a rough morning of slow service that none of us held against the poor, hustling lady.

From there, it was straight to the local junior high for our annual veterans program with the other Wisecrack Warriors.

Walking into that auditorium was an experience I’ll never forget. The students lined the entrance hall, clapping, high-fiving, and genuinely thanking us for our service. It’s hard not to feel a profound sense of honor as you walk that gauntlet. Their sincere gratitude made the slow service immediately forgettable.

The Branches and the Barrel

After some coffee and camaraderie with the other veterans, the program began. It was impeccably put together. The choir performed each branch’s song in turn, and it always gives me chills to stand for the "Marines' Hymn" and be recognized alongside my brothers and sisters.

Interestingly, they skipped the Space Force song this year. Last year we had a Guardian in attendance, and the lack of a song led to a quick, whispered speculation among the vets: Did they know something we didn't? Was he on a secret deployment? Alas, the mystery of the absent Space Force anthem went unsolved.

The program concluded with an incredibly powerful dramatic reading and skit titled, "I Am a Veteran." The students walked through different stages of service:

"I left my home at 17, I am a veteran."

"I lost my friends in battle, I am a veteran."

The skit ended with the participants holding up white crosses, a somber but stunning visual reminder of the sacrifice. I could see the emotion on the faces of the vets around me—it was a truly touching, impactful moment.

We wrapped up the official duties and headed for lunch. This was pure, unadulterated Wisecrack Warrior Time. We needed to decompress, and the only cure was humor. We made sure everyone had a turn "in the barrel," trading friendly, well-aimed insults and jokes. It was the perfect ending to a week dedicated to both deep respect and even deeper brotherhood.

Semper Fi, and thank you to every veteran who shared a laugh, a story, or a slow breakfast with me this week.