I see them riding, sitting alone. Broken men making it alone. Were it not for the hat, you’d never know they were veterans each a different war in a different place. Fierce warriors, now valiant in their guardianship of the younger men and women who ride along side together. A quick glance toward each other, and already, they are brothers, born by blood, in a conflict, in a far off continent, in a different era, fighting for some unknown cause.
And he asked himself, you can be an immigrant with a Federal Medicare Card, but a Veteran without one and not get half fare. You cannot speak English and not have spilled blood for your country, but without a Federal Medicare Card, a Veteran cannot get 1/2 fare.
He looks at him and says, but he’s just a kid. Then so, was I. And continues to think…A Veteran would not be seeking Medicare until later in life; but, might need 1/2 fare before then. Is not the spilt blood of either his comrade or his enemy enough to pay for the 1/2 fare?