Wednesday is Veterans Day — originally Armistice Day, begun in 1919 for the first anniversary of the end of World War I, which wasn’t called that at the time, since nobody knew another was coming. It was called “The Great War” or “The World War.”
The first Armistice Day was a dramatic moment in Chicago — at 10:55 a.m. on Nov. 11, 1919, soldiers in Grant Park let off a fusillade of artillery and small arms fire, promptly stopping at 11 a.m. — the war had ended, famously, at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. Cops paused Loop traffic. ‘L’ cars stopped. A full minute’s silence, then a cheer went up and LaSalle Street became a blizzard of confetti.
Armistice Day became Veterans Day in 1954, acknowledging the millions of Americans who had served in World War II and the Korean War.
There is no possessive in Veterans Day — it isn’t “Veterans’ Day” — for the simple reason the day does not belong to them, but to us. It is a time when the American public is supposed to reflect on our debt to those who served our country. (And are still alive; we honor the fallen on Memorial Day.)
But which veterans should we honor? Do Black veterans count? Blacks have served since the Revolutionary War, but the Army wasn’t integrated until 1948. This was done over the objections of the brass, such as Army Chief of Staff General Omar Bradley, who argued that mixing races would lower morale, hurt unit cohesion, and turn the military into a social experiment rather than a fighting force.
This wasn’t accepted by President Harry Truman, nauseated by the horrific abuse Black soldiers suffered when they returned home to the segregated South, which instead of honoring Black vets often brutalized them for the crime of wearing crisp uniforms and holding themselves with pride.
Truman said he was from Missouri, and his forebears were Confederates, but: “my very stomach turned over when I learned that Negro soldiers just back from overseas, were being dumped out of army trucks in Mississippi and beaten. Whatever my inclinations as a native of Missouri might have been, as President, I know this is bad. I shall fight evils like this.”
He did, by desegregating the military. But what one president giveth, another may take away. Donald Trump’s secretary of war, Pete Hegseth, has waged an open battle against Black service members, blocking or stalling promotions of Black and female senior officers, claiming any advancement had to be due to DEI rather than merit. Others have been dismissed or forced into retirement. Online tributes to historic Black service members have been taken down while books by Black authors were removed from military academy libraries.
The Jim Crow arguments against a desegregated military were retrofitted for use against trans troops. The week he took office for his second term, President Donald Trump signed Executive Order 14183, “Prioritizing Military Excellence and Readiness,” banning transgender and nonbinary service members from the military, where thousands serve with honor. The order baselessly slurs trans troops as lacking the “selflessness and humility” needed to serve our country.
There is good news. Procedures are big in the military, and in order to cashier conscientious trans soldiers, sailors and marines, the government set up a series of three-person “separation boards” to throw them out.
Only the boards are refusing. Judging their buddies based on their merits, and not blind prejudice, they decline to dismiss them. The whole thing is secret, but a New York Times investigation found that, more often than not, the boards keep their comrades.
“The votes are a stunning rebuke from the armed forces, where following orders is bedrock,” the Times wrote. “And they suggest the military’s transgender ban is being rejected by the very troops the administration says the ban is meant to serve.”
Freedom is not free. Someone always pays a price. At Veterans Day 2026, we should remember that most military personnel never see battle. But that does not mean they do not have an opportunity to courageously fight for America.
When the story of this shameful era becomes history, there will be flashy, dramatic moments, such as ordinary citizens turning out — like the Minutemen of old — to oppose masked ICE thugs in the street. There will be heroic soldiers like Gen. Mark A. Milley, who placed love of country over selfish concerns and stood up for the Constitution and human dignity. And there are nameless officers on secret panels who declined to reject their fellow jarheads and swabbies simply because of who they are. The debt that civilians owe the military is always deep. But lately it has compounded, in our ongoing battles against enemies both foreign and domestic.