When I was a teenager in the 1960s, the world was in turmoil. I watched from a distance as brave men and women marched in the streets, demanding civil rights and equal justice. I sympathized deeply with their cause, though I didn’t join the protests. I also sympathized with those who protested the Vietnam War, even as I found myself called into it.
At 19, I joined the Navy, trained as a corpsman, and eventually served alongside the Marines as a field medical technician in Vietnam. I treated the wounded, saw the dying, and carried the weight of lives that ended far too young. I served in Operation Dewey Canyon in the A Shau Valley, where I was wounded in an ambush and later sent back to the States for treatment. That wound healed, but others—emotional, moral, spiritual—have stayed with me all my life.
Questioning Authority—Then and Now
One of the most important lessons I took from those years is this: authority must be questioned, especially when it harms its own people. I’ve seen how decisions made by those in high places—motivated by power, profit, or politics—can destroy the lives of everyday Americans. That was true in the jungles of Vietnam, and it’s true now in the halls of Congress and in the White House.
During my military service, I learned what loyalty really means. As a Navy corpsman, I took the Marine motto Semper Fi—”always faithful”—to heart. I was faithful to my fellow Marines, my country, and the principle that life and dignity matter. That same principle guided me when I returned home and saw fellow postal workers being mistreated by management. I joined the union. I became a shop steward and later president of our branch. I defended my coworkers with the same loyalty I showed my fellow troops in the field—by standing up, by speaking out, and by never backing down from injustice.
Honoring the Fallen by Fighting for the Living
I have seen suffering. I have seen death. And far too much of it could have been avoided.
There are more than 58,000 names etched into the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. I knew some of them. But many more died after the war—from injuries, from Agent Orange, from suicide. Today, more than 6,000 veterans die by suicide each year. And yet, the VA talks about cutting 80,000 staff positions while claiming they’ll improve care. That’s not just bureaucratic nonsense—it’s a betrayal. And I believe I know exactly who is behind it.
Donald Trump, a man who dodged the draft with a fabricated claim of “bone spurs,” once called those who died in service “losers and suckers.” He mocked Senator John McCain, a fellow veteran and prisoner of war, claiming he wasn’t a hero. And yet Trump praises authoritarian rulers, fires dedicated public servants without cause, and incites violence while calling it patriotism.
He is no patriot. And we cannot allow him to redefine what it means to love and serve this country.
The Danger of Silence
Many of us who served were taught that you don’t question the chain of command. But real loyalty—true patriotism—means speaking out when your country is in danger, not just from foreign enemies, but from within.
I remember how Vietnam veterans were often treated when we came home. Disrespected. Dismissed. We were sent to fight in a war many didn’t support and returned to a country that didn’t know how to deal with us. That pain runs deep. And that’s why it enrages me to see a man like Trump treat service, sacrifice, and citizenship as political pawns.
From attacks on diversity, equity, and inclusion to secretive detainments and the erosion of civil rights, this regime echoes the darkest chapters of history. These are not conservative policies. They are authoritarian ones. And history has shown us where that road leads.
Why I Resist—and Why You Must, Too
I didn’t march in the ’60s, but I march now—with my words, with my experience, and with a voice that will not be silent. ThayerEditing was born out of a belief that the pen is mightier than the sword, and that those fighting for justice today need every tool possible to win the battles ahead.
Whether you’re writing newsletters, organizing campaigns, or running for office—your message matters. And I want to help you sharpen it.
ThayerEditing operates by the Marine motto: Semper Fi. We are faithful to the Constitution. Faithful to the founding principles of liberty and justice. And faithful to the millions of Americans who refuse to sit quietly as our rights are stripped away.
We will come out of this better than we went in—but only if we act.
Call to Action: Let’s Fight Back—Together
If you believe in democracy, now is the time to act.
- Protest—peacefully but powerfully.
- Write your elected officials.
- Call them. Hold them accountable.
- Run for office. Or support someone who does.
- And if you need help, I’ll be offering my services soon.
ThayerEditing is for those who see through the lies, stand for the truth, and want their voices to carry. I hope this blog and this mission inspire you to keep fighting. Because history is watching—and future generations are counting on us.
