A Child’s First Lesson in Service 

In the early 1950s, when I was a young boy, I remember my mother buying small red flowers—poppies—around this time each year. She told me they symbolized the bloodshed by those who fought in the great wars. Each donation helped support wounded soldiers and sailors. This was long before we had the Veterans Administration we know today. 

That was the first time I heard the word “vet.” Only years later did I grasp its full meaning—when I learned that my father, Ray Edgin, a B-26 bomber pilot in World War II, had flown 65 combat missions over Nazi Germany. Most aircrews were sent home after twenty-five missions—if they survived that long. My father refused. He believed a married man deserved to return to his wife before he did. Before the war, he had deliberately chosen not to marry my mother. He was unwilling to risk leaving her a widow. 

That decision revealed the depth of his honor, his courage, and his selfless devotion to duty—all grounded in his steadfast faith in God and his quiet conviction to serve something far greater than himself. 

The Meaning of Service 

Every veteran, whether they have seen combat or not, shares that same sense of purpose. Service is never about individual recognition; it is about loyalty to one another, integrity in action, and faith in a mission larger than any one person. Military life demands teamwork, trust, and sacrifice. There’s a reason we say there’s no “I” in team. 

A modern reflection of that spirit can be seen in the recent precision mission carried out by B-2 bombers from Whiteman Air Force Base, Missouri. Hundreds of airmen and support personnel worked together in silence and secrecy. Each one was vital to the success of the whole. From pilots to maintainers, from planners to intelligence analysts, they demonstrated the very essence of discipline, courage, and patriotism. 

When I think of my father’s generation, I can only imagine what it was like to be tossed through the sky inside a bomber. Maintaining formation while anti-aircraft fire filled the air, destroyed other planes and air crews. There was no room for fear or hesitation—only duty and faith in God to carry them through. Each mission tested not just machinery but the strength of human resolve.

Watch the video clip—and imagine the unseen cost of such service: what we now call PTSD.

Bridging the Divide 

At times, veterans feel that the public they served has little understanding of what military life entails or what it costs. While that may hold some truth, I believe it is changing. When someone says, “Thank you for your service,” perhaps the next question that might be asked is, “What did you do?”—an invitation to connect and gain a deeper understanding. 

Such conversations help bridge the divide between those who serve and those they protect. Service members do not wear the uniform for applause or reward. They serve out of patriotism—a belief in the ideals this country was founded upon—and faith in God, who strengthens their hands, steadies their minds, and reminds them that courage and compassion can coexist. 

That oath to defend our nation “against all enemies, foreign and domestic” endures long after the uniform is retired. 

A Life in Uniform 

For most of my career, I served as a military trial lawyer. Then one day, the Pentagon called, asking if I would become the Air Force’s first Judge Advocate to serve in an airborne capacity. I was to be attached to the newly formed United States Special Operations Command. It was a challenge I accepted with humility and resolve.

To qualify, I underwent Army Airborne training at Fort Benning, Georgia—learning to jump from aircraft and helicopters. This training was in support of classified missions to rescue American hostages and confront international terrorism. At the time, my wife and I had six children—and welcomed our seventh while I was serving in that role. 

I went on to become a Jumpmaster, then a Master Parachutist. I completed Air Assault Training that included rappelling from helicopters, buildings, and mountains. After parachuting from hydrogen balloons, I earned my British jump wings. I had 119 jumps in the white world. As our missions were conducted at night, we were known as Shadow Warriors.

Editor: The author’s distinction between his 119 “white world” jumps and his nighttime missions as Shadow Warriors suggests he also participated in classified operations that wouldn’t be counted in his official, unclassified jump record. 

In this video clip, imagine the importance of fully trusting your equipment, training, and team members. Only then can you focus solely on your mission. 

Each of those experiences deepened my respect for the courage, discipline, and loyalty of those who serve shoulder to shoulder. These men and women would risk everything for one another without hesitation. 

During those years, I served alongside Navy SEALs, Army Rangers, Green Berets, and Air Force Special Operations personnel. Our objectives varied from conducting a “snatch,” rescue, surgical strike, or creating maximum disruption with the least number of men. My role was to identify lawful targets, assess the legality of weapon use, and plan infiltration and exfiltration routes. And ensure that each mission upheld both the law and the conscience of our nation. To gain the trust of warriors, you must be willing to share their burden—and do the things they do. That is something no law school teaches. 

The Meaning of Veterans Day 

Today, at age 78, I stand about 2 inches shorter, and I am recognized as 100 percent disabled by the VA. Yet I have no regrets. My years in uniform taught me what it means to live with integrity, to act with honor, and to serve with courage. This was not for personal gain, but for the greater good and under the watchful eye of God, who blesses those who serve with a pure heart. 

The bonds forged in service are lifelong. They are built on mutual trust, shared hardship, and an unspoken promise: “I have your six (back).” That bond, to me, defines what it means to be a veteran. 

So, as I reflect on Veterans Day, I think of the men and women who chose service over comfort, principle over convenience, and duty over fear. Their sacrifices—and those of their families—remind us that the strength of America rests not only in its weapons systems, but in the character, faith, and loyalty of its people. 

That is what Veterans Day means to me.

Gordon Ray Edgin is a retired U.S. Air Force Judge Advocate and decorated airborne officer who served with the United States Special Operations Command. He lives in Saratoga Springs, Utah, and continues to speak and write on faith, patriotism, and the enduring values of military service. 

Editor: My brother, Gordon, and our father, Ray, both embodied a deep commitment to service. Our mother, Ruth, purchased poppies each year to support wounded veterans—a tradition that defined the 1950s and shaped our understanding of patriotism. My Marine husband, Walter, continues that legacy. From my mother’s quiet dedication to my family’s military service across generations, I take great pride in our patriotic family.