My Volunteer Work at the Spokane Veteran's Home

Day One

I volunteered at the Spokane Veteran’s Home for a total of six hours. My experience at the home was extremely eye-opening as it allowed me to see and hear firsthand the accounts of some of the veteran’s lives. Prior to my volunteering, I really had no idea what the life of a veteran was like other than what I've heard about their reality of living with post-traumatic stress disorder. Sure, I saluted them because it was respectful and customary, but I did not have any appreciation for what they have sacrificed for our country until I volunteered.

My first three hours at Spokane Veteran’s Home consisted of my helping out with the senior citizen veterans. I helped serve their meals mostly for the first increment of my volunteering time. I have to admit, I was a little apprehensive to talk to any of the veterans because I simply did not know what to say. I mean, how can you even begin to put yourself in their shoes?

Most of the veterans that I helped serve lunch to were feeble-looking. Some were disabled missing limbs, and couldn’t walk on their own without wheelchairs. But there were some that seemed younger and more able-bodied. I wondered what their stories were and how they got there. But I was too afraid to ask because I did not want to upset any of them. I was there to help them, and not to make them relive their awful memories of the violence and pain of war.

One veteran needed help opening his plastic container of peaches for lunch dessert. What surprised me was that I saw his hands shaking and fumbling with the lid, I quickly came over and opened it for him. He was an elderly bald man in a wheelchair with a colorful blanket covering his hips and legs. The blanket looked like it had been made by hand a long time ago. The man smiled at me and thanked me. That was when I realized that the veterans were just like other people who wanted to express gratitude. I smiled back at the man, and I quickly overcame my apparent apprehensiveness.

I helped served lunch to what seemed like fifty veterans, and each one of them all seemed grateful that they had more company than normal. I was surprised to see an elderly female veteran as I was serving. Right after being surprised, I felt kind of ashamed to feel that way. Why shouldn’t I see a woman staying there? There are many women who have served in this country’s war.

After lunch, we went to the TV room where there were big-screen television and tables for playing cards and games. It seemed cozy enough. There were some veterans hanging out by the TV on comfy looking chairs. The atmosphere was far from dismal and slow-moving. There were many conversations going on and much activity bustling around. Laughing in the corner, three men were playing Scrabble at a table. I wanted to join in because it looked like they were having fun.

The home itself seemed like a great place to live. It has a nice library and a terrace to hang out in. The lunches, however, left much to be desired in my opinion. I’ve had microwaved meals that looked better. But the veterans seemed to like it, and I guess that it is all that mattered.

My first day of volunteering did not involve a great deal of interaction with the veterans. I thought that I should have talked to them more because it seemed like they wanted to be open. I told myself that I would try harder to connect with them on my second day.

Day Two

On the second day of my volunteering time, I decided that I would make the most of it. I knew what to expect as far as the atmosphere and the veterans, so maybe I could actually talk to them and get to know them. I figured that it was least I could do out of respect for the men and women that have fought for my freedom. Not only did they fight, but they also survived.

I helped to serve lunch again, which looked a lot better than the last time, by the way. One man was very friendly, and he called me “Kid.” He had a laptop, and he wanted to show me some of the games he played on it. I noticed that he was missing three fingers on his right hand. I did not want to stare with him noticing, but he did. He said that he lost them in Vietnam, but that was not all he had lost. He began to tell me the names of all of his friends who had died in the war.

This man did not hold back anything. He told me about being in Vietnam, and how he watched so many of his friends die. He did not seem sad when he was telling me all of this. I wondered if it had made him numb. But then I realized that he was passionate about his past. He just wanted his fellow army buddies to be remembered as they should.

He showed me his blog on his computer. I asked him how could he type with his missing fingers? As soon as I asked him, I regretted it because I thought it might offend him. But he laughed and said that he just adapted and learned, just like humans do. He said it wasn’t hard if you put your mind to it.

I spoke with another senior citizen soldier who served in Vietnam as an artilleryman. He told me that horror that he felt when his unit was surrounded by the guerrilla fighters, and he was captured. He eventually escaped after being a prisoner of war for five years. I could see the pain in his eyes as he spoke about being captured and held for so long. He said that he would not let go of the person that he was, and that was an Air Force pilot who was trained to defend his country’s honor. I told him that I could even imagine his mental anguish, not to mention his physical injuries.

Talking to the veterans made me realize that I wanted to make some sort of contribution, just as they had. They did not have any regrets about the decisions that they made, even though some of them told me that their families made them go into the war. But they did not regret a single thing because they were alive and got to experience life.

Another veteran I spoke to seemed to be in very good spirits, especially when I told him that I was interested in hearing what he had to say. He disappeared for a few moments and came back with an old magazine. It had an article that he had written forty years ago about his account under enemy fire. I found it fascinating that this was the same man who wrote this powerful story so many years ago. He was the same man; he just looked older and moved a little slower. But he told me that he still had his knowledge, wit, and love, and that was all that mattered to him. He said that those three things got him through the Vietnam War.

Another soldier asked me to write a letter for his grandson who lived across the country. He told me that he wrote to him every week, but he actually needed someone to write the letters for him because his hands were so arthritic. His grandson was fifteen and wanted to go into the Air Force just like his grandfather. The man beamed with pride when he told me this, and it was a great sight to see.

I also learned from many of the veterans that they did not receive a proper homecoming after the war. They did not seem angry by this fact, even though some admitted to being angry about it years ago. However, they said their anger had dissolved. That was another thing that I heard a lot from the veterans that day: They were not angry about the outcomes. They simply wanted peace and understanding.

I heard from many of the veterans I spoke to that they did not just want to be thanked for their service, even it is a sincere thank you. More than anything, they want to be asked about their experiences. They want others to learn from them and not to pretend that they never happened. These soldiers do not just want people to ask about their experiences on Veteran’s Day, but any day of the year. That is all they ask for.