I agree, both in the sentiment, and that it is just not safe to discuss in public. Let’s just say I value those in Doctors without Borders more than those in the military.
However, I disagree about your definition of “veteran”. Former military are veterans, no matter how or when they served.
Our Homecoming Queen from 1981 is a perfect example of this. In High School she was a pompous air head who plastered herself to all the guys and genuinely thought she didn’t need to be smart because she was pretty. Winning that title was the high water mark of her life. She has been divorced at least 3 times, mostly worked as a waitress or low level retail, and life has not been kind to her. The last time I bothered to look at her Facebook page it was crammed with her selfies, some of which she has photo shopped herself into pictures of celebrities, and lots of pictures from our school years. At a class reunion a few years ago she entered and announced “The Queen has arrived!”. Yeah. I haven’t been to another one since. She’s clingy and desperate and a pretty far piece down the road from that fresh-faced Homecoming Queen.
Sucks to peak in High School.
So glad my best days were ahead of me back then. And still are!
Well, there was that time back in the 1980’s when we accidentally blew up the world and had to move to this world. I played a big part in that scheme, but after they decided that we just wouldn’t tell the stupid people because they wouldn’t understand what was going on, I really don’t get a chance to talk about it much.
with apologies to Steve Martin.
My only small quibble is the wording that makes your support of the more recent convention sound like it’s some objective fact. It’s not, it’a a convention now to call all people who were ever in the US (don’t know about other countries) military ‘veterans’. I think the older convention of reserving it for people who fought was more appropriate. But to each his own in agreeing with changing conventions, or not.
I spent 11 years on active duty. I was never in a war zone, tho I enlisted while VietNam was still a war. I served, honorably, and I was ready to do whatever I was called upon to do. I don’t think I’m undeserving of the title “veteran” just because no one shot at me.
And, for the record, I don’t expect any special treatment because of my service. I volunteered, I was trained, I was paid, I deployed, I had some great experiences and some crappy ones - kinda like with any job. If some businesses want to give me a discount, I’ll take it, but I don’t feel entitled to adulation - not for my military service, anyway.
Feel free to adore me because I am me. 
I adore you.
But I’m unworthy…
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Hmmm… my dad was like that, but he was initially the opposite. When I thought about enlisting, he constantly shot me down. He hated his time in the army, thinking he was shanghaied by the US government to fight a war FDR started. Then, he did an about-face and started doing presentations and lectures on how he earned his purple heart. So, to get along with him better, I went along with it. He died in 2000, and I played one of his presentations at his funeral.
I still have all his tapes and memorabilia, which I was supposed to have donated to his alma mater and properly archived, but it’s still all packed in a dusty box. Sorry dad, I never bought into this past glory shit and still don’t. Thanks for serving our country.
I believe it was Harlan Ellison who wrote a story that revolved around the notion that one of the cruelest horrors that could be experienced was to learn that your peak moment was already in the past, and that it was something really mundane.
This is what I admire about old writers, artists, scientists as long as they are still in a discovery mode they are still peaking.
Keep in mind in re: High School sports, for every state Champion and every square jawed quarterback there is the guy who dropped the TD pass, missed the game-winning free throws, field goal, or penalty kick. Instead of cheers, their lasting memory is groans and boos and being shunned in class the next week. That’s their lasting memory of sports.
I knew one guy in baseball who just needed to put the ball in play to win the game but struck out and we lost a playoff game in extra innings. He was devastated. I went over to his house that night to see how he was doing and he was in the backyard burning his letter jacket.