I’d like to thank our local newspapers for their excellent Veterans Day coverage.

There are 3,405 veterans living in Lake County, meaning one in nine of your neighbors is a veteran, and 105,838 Montanans are veterans, ranking our state second in veterans per capita.

After the ceremony at Ronan’s cemetery, Korean War veteran Bert Todd gave me his Honor Guard lapel pin, the gold insignia of the boot, vertical rifle and helmet on its stock. I was honored.

A poignant newspaper quote by Bud Moran reminded me of the difficult reception the Vietnam veterans endured. Protesters took out their frustrations on our brave soldiers in a dispiriting display of misplaced American anger. Mr. Moran’s sad experience coming home from Vietnam was similar to my older brother’s.

Growing up, we had few neighbors. My older brothers were my only regular playmates, and we were close. I was 11 years old in 1964 when brother Jeff joined the Marine Corps. We’d never heard of Vietnam. Not long after he was through boot camp and sent to the jungle near the DMZ, the nightly television news brought the war right into our living room. No wonder my mother had nightmares.

Mr. Todd has said in the past that his wife had nightmares thinking of their son, Kyle, serving in Afghanistan. It’s a mom thing.

When Jeff was discharged after four years in the USMC infantry, wearing the only clothes he had – his military duds – he was spit on, just as Mr. Moran related in his story. Lugging his olive drab duffle, some disrespectful punk nearly sideswiped Jeff as he tried to hitchhike from Oakland to the San Francisco airport to catch his final flight home. I also had heard about episodes where things were thrown at soldiers.

Mr. Todd’s gift reminded me that over 58,000 Vietnam soldiers were carried home draped in the American flag.

I can remember our joy the day my brother strode into our kitchen that unforgettable day in 1968. He’d been gone one fourth of my young life. And I could tell he’d changed forever.

But my mother’s nightmares could stop.