In 1967 my grandpa is drafted for the Vietnam War. He expects nothing less–every young man is going off to fight. Fear and worry do not enter his mind. When he and his friends go for the medical evaluation, my grandpa encounters a setback–he is deaf in his right ear and cannot serve his country. Guilt consumes him as he helplessly returns home while his friends move on to the war.

Many years later, my grandpa lives peacefully with his wife and enjoys visitors to his American home, friends and family included.

“Hi, George.” I greet a man, one of Grandpa’s cousins. He looks intimidating but is friendly and comical. We sit around the dinner table, my grandparents and siblings around us. Outside is a brisk fall day, crunchy yellow leaves drifting to the ground as Orioles hop over the branches. The opening weekend of deer hunting is just around the corner.

“You going to shoot anything tomorrow?” George asks before scooping a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“Maybe.” I laugh a little. “Only if you don’t get ‘em first.”

“Oh, I’ll be sure to leave enough deer for you.”

The next morning, we head out before the sun rises, Grandpa, George, and me. I see the words ‘Navy Veteran’ on the license plate of George’s truck.

These people have fought to protect us. To protect our rights. To protect our freedom.

Freedom of speech is one of many freedoms provided to United States citizens. That freedom is provided by brave men and women who serve in the armed forces. They fight for us in whatever way they can–whether that be joining the Navy, like George, or trying to head off to fight with friends, like my grandpa. I give my gratitude to those who serve today, have served in the past, and those who have lost their lives protecting our freedom. Thank you.