There are people who talk about courage, and then there are the ones who had to live it.

Today isn’t about flags, governments, or speeches written by committee.

It’s about the human beings who packed fear next to their socks and went when they were called.

It’s about the ones who came home different.

The ones who didn’t come home at all.

The ones who came home, but had to fight a new war inside their own skull.

To every Veteran around the world:

Thank you.

Not the cheap, bumper-sticker kind.

The real kind.

Thank you for the birthdays you missed.

Thank you for the parts of yourself you left behind.

Thank you for the scars no one sees.

My bloodline carries this:

My father — Vietnam.

My grandfather — World War II.

Men who walked through fire so that I could walk into a convenience store like it’s no big deal.

We stand on the shoulders of ghosts who don’t ask us to remember them —

but we damn well should.

So here’s my salute:

Quiet.

Steady.

No theatrics.

To the ones who served:

May your nights be gentle.

May your memories be kind.

May your peace be real.

You are not forgotten.

Stay Dirty. Stay Human.

— Saint Dirty Face™