I never appreciated Veteran's Day. When I was a child, our school would invite World War II and Vietnam veterans to share their stories. While I found them fascinating, I never fully appreciated Veteran's Day. It was just another day on the calendar, nothing more. It took a group of German exchange students and a stellar party for me to appreciate the true meaning of Veteran's Day.
I was in graduate school, intensely studying in my apartment when I heard a knock at the door. I opened it and saw my neighbors who were from Cologne, Germany. They explained that they were having a party tomorrow, November 11th and that the music would be loud. I replied flirtatiously saying, "If I can hear your music, I am invited to the party."
The party started promptly the next day at 11:11 AM. Being the prudish American that I am and thinking it was to early in the day to be drinking, I asked one of my neighbors what they were celebrating. He explained that in Cologne, Germany on November 11th at precisely 11:11 AM the carnival season begins with lots of drinking, parades in the street and dancing. The party lasts all winter until the Tuesday before Lent. Now, that's what I call a party.
Never drink beer with Germans. I'm just warning you.
Sounded like a good time to me, but I began to think (this is dangerous when you are drinking with Europeans). It was such an odd time for a festival to start and then I remembered something from my youth, in the 11th minute of the 11th hour, on the 11th day of the 11th month World War I was officially over. More tipsy than the rest of the group since I was a novice drinker, I blurted out, "So you're celebrating the fact that the Germans lost World War I?"
Never drink with Kaiser Wilhelm either. His hat will attack you!
Ouch! (insert foot in mouth now) Seeing that I was drunk and blubbering about how sorry I was, he excused my comment. Embarrassed and guilt ridden, I took this moment to sneak out of the party and go back to my apartment. Whilst there I read "All Quiet on the Western Front," by
Erich Maria Remarque. Drunk reading of this novel is not recommend, since it is an intense, emotional book through the eyes of a German solider during World War I. Besides crying though, I realized why everyone around the world, whether they were on the winning or losing side celebrated this war's end. All war is brutal, but World War I was inhumane. The first large scale war to use modern weapons with military leaders still using old school military tactics, lead to tens of thousands of deaths in minutes. Infantry men were obliterated like flies by machine guns and mustard gas, while the front would only move a couple of inches either way. This resulted in a stalemate and trench warfare. Sadly, many people believed that World War I was the "War that would end all wars!" Perhaps it was this relentless propaganda, which kept civilian morale up while casualties soared. If this were the last war, they could sacrifice a little longer and bear losing their brothers, husbands, sons and uncles in the quest for eternal peace. We have since learned that peace doesn't come from war. I wonder, however, where does peace come from? May God bless everyone touched by war! You might also enjoy: 
