The following letter was submitted by a reader who wished to remain anonymous.

Like all of us, Leroy was young, excited and filled with boyhood dreams.

When he was a teenager, I was just a boy. I remember when he made my day by riding me on his bicycle, or taking time to play with me like a kid.

He was Mom’s oldest brother. World War II was in full swing, and soon the summons came to Leroy to come and serve his country. This he did, and he saw harsh action.

In there, like so many, he learned to smoke, drink, how to fight and, if necessary, kill.

Finally, he came home — a veteran, shot up, scarred up and wounded. They gave him a disability check, but they could never give him back his health, or his right frame of mind.

In order to push it out of his mind, Leroy drank heavier and heavier. Because of a war injury, in which they had to put a steel plate in his head, they put him on medication to keep him “normal.”

Sometimes, if he missed taking the medication, he said voices came inside his head and gave him orders and told him things to do. Quite often, his mind reverted back to the battles, and he would grab one of his rifles and begin to call cadence and march and shoot and give orders.

Finally, someone would call Dad or the law and say Leroy is liable to hurt someone.

Sometimes Dad and Mom would go get him, and get him back on his medication, and he would go back to being “normal.” Sometimes the law came and overpowered him, with him thinking the enemy was overrunning the camp. He would then be carted off to jail spewing profanity, and vowing never to surrender to the enemy.

So you see, the real Leroy never came back home. A disability check could never compensate for the harm done.

Because of thousands of Leroy’s, we live in the greatest country and freest world known in human history.

Leroy died relatively young of a heart attack, and the community relaxed. Many times, Mom was hurt and humiliated by his actions and language, but she always loved him. She died in 1987, never forgetting the horror she saw Leroy live through.

Across this great land, there are thousands of veterans like Leroy — crippled and scarred, physically and mentally. They pay and their families pay.

Let us remember and teach our children about the history of our great nation, and about the many men and women that fought to make our land the greatest in the world, our veterans.

On this Veterans Day 2018, let us give honor to our veterans. Like the words of the great poet Rudyard Kipling, let us say, “Oh Lord God of Host, be with us yet, lest we forget, lest we forget.”