Thanks for your service, now get out

Supporters, family and advocates waited at the U.S.-Mexico border on a recent Friday afternoon. And waited. And waited some more.

The waiting isn’t anything new—despite government and business leaders’ chirps of expedited crossing times the wait to get into the United States is still one of the more daunting obstacles to visiting Tijuana. But this period of milling about was different. This one was filled with hope more than a sense of routine.

Days before U.S. veterans had announced plans to turn themselves over to border officials, hoping  they would be accepted back into the country they fought for in places in like Vietnam and Iraq.

Years ago they had travelled thousands of miles to foreign countries, put their lives on the line for their buddies and their country. But when they ran into trouble after being honorably discharged and, in some cases did their time behind bars, the government that asked them to defend this country with blood and honor instead showed them the door.

Thanks for your service. Now get out.

People who live in the United States unlawfully or who are non-citizens can join the military.

They can fight for this country.

They can kill for this country.

They can die for this country.

In return they can become a part of this country either through citizenship or being granted legal residency.  As long as the right paperwork is filled out.

In the case of deported veterans living in Tijuana and elsewhere, t’s were not crossed, i’s were not dotted and as a result the men and women of the Marine Corp and Army, for example, were deported to their countries of origin.

For some that meant going back to a place they had no connection other than a cultural link, having been brought as children by their parents to the United States.

They grew up here, went to school here, worked here, paid taxes here, joined the military here, returned and started a new life here, ran into trouble with the law here, did their time here and ended up over there. All because somewhere in the vast bureaucracy of government their applications for citizenship or residency—in other words part of the deal Uncle Sam struck with these men and women—were lost, incomplete or never started. So the veterans pay the price for carelessness. Again.

Each Memorial  and Veterans Day we wave the flag. We pound our fists and demand action (without wanting to spend more money) when we learn of veterans living on the streets.

We support  our troops when it is convenient.

But when it is time to live up to our agreement and grant veterans the right to live in this country—the one they volunteered to defend with their lives—we watch indifferently as they are turned away at the border. Unless they are dead. Only then will they be allowed back, so that the pomp and circumstance of a military burial can make us feel better.