November 11, 2026 | Veterans Day and the Memorial of St. Martin of Tours
Of course I’m going to talk about my dad today. I mean, how could I not?
My dad, Vincent Hugh Mousel, served four years in the United States Marine Corps. He enlisted at 17 years old, and I know he spent at least part of his service stationed in Hawaii. I wish I could tell you more. I know bits and fragments of his Marine Corps years, but there are so many things I never thought to ask him. What was boot camp like? Who were his friends? What did he enjoy about serving? What did he hate? Did he ever get homesick? They’re questions I can’t ask anymore.
My dad died on January 8 of this year, just five days before what would have been his 64th birthday. So this Veterans Day feels different. It’s my first one without him, and although I think about him every day, today gives me another reason to remember a part of his life that I wish I’d taken more time to understand.
Something interesting I learned recently is that November 11 is also the feast day of St. Martin of Tours. And wouldn’t you know it? He was a soldier, too.
St. Martin lived during the fourth century and served in the Roman army before eventually leaving military life and becoming a monk and, later, Bishop of Tours. One of the best-known stories about him involves a freezing winter day when he encountered a poorly clothed man begging for help. Martin didn’t have much to give. According to the traditional account, he took his military cloak, cut it in half with his sword, and gave one half to the man. That night, Martin reportedly dreamed of Jesus wearing the portion of the cloak he’d given away.
I love that story because one, cutting your cloak in half with a sword is pretty dramatic. And two, Martin saw someone suffering and did something about it. He didn’t wait until he had more money or better circumstances. He helped with what he had, and that makes me think about what service really means.
When we think about veterans, we often picture uniforms, ceremonies, medals, and military accomplishments. Those things are important, of course. But there’s another side to military service that doesn’t always receive as much attention. There’s the young person who leaves home for the first time, the families who worry, the friendships formed during service. The experiences that shape someone long after they’ve taken off the uniform. And sometimes there’s pain.
Not every veteran comes home with the same experiences, and not every veteran has an easy life after serving. My dad certainly didn’t. His life was complicated. He struggled with addiction and serious mental health challenges for many years. There were good memories, difficult memories, and plenty of things I’m still trying to understand.
His military service was one chapter of his life, but it wasn’t the whole story. Neither were his struggles. He was my dad, and he was a Marine. He was a human being who deserved compassion, even when life became terribly difficult. That’s something worth remembering today, especially when we talk about honoring veterans. Gratitude shouldn’t end when someone takes off the uniform. It should extend to how we treat veterans who are aging, unhoused, struggling with addiction, living with disabilities, or trying to find their place in civilian life. St. Martin’s example reminds me that compassion isn’t just something we talk about. It’s something we’re supposed to practice.
There’s another interesting connection between St. Martin and Veterans Day. November 11 originally became known in the United States as Armistice Day, commemorating the armistice that ended the fighting in World War I in 1918. The ceasefire took effect at 11 a.m. on November 11. In 1954, the United States renamed the holiday Veterans Day to honor American veterans of all wars. St. Martin’s feast day had already been celebrated on November 11 for centuries.
Some Catholic writers have explored the possible symbolism of the armistice occurring on the feast of a former soldier who became associated with Christian charity and peace. I can’t say whether the date was deliberately chosen because of St. Martin, but I do find the connection interesting. A day commemorating the end of terrible fighting shares a date with the feast of a man who once served as a soldier and later devoted his life to Christ. It gives me something to think about. We honor military service while also praying for a world in which fewer people have to experience the horrors of war.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the stories we lose when someone dies. My dad had a whole life before I was born. He was once a teenager leaving home to become a Marine. He had experiences and friendships I know almost nothing about. He saw places I’ve never seen. Somewhere along the way, that young Marine became my dad.
I wish I’d asked him to tell me more about those years, about the ordinary things. What did he do when he had a day off? Did he like Hawaii? Was there a particular meal he missed from home? Did he ever imagine what his life would look like decades later? I suppose that’s one of the frustrating things about grief. You realize how many conversations you assumed you’d have someday.
If you have a veteran in your life, maybe today is a good day to ask them about their experiences. Not everyone will want to talk, and that’s okay. Some memories are deeply personal or painful.
But if they’re willing, listen. You might learn something about them that you’d never known before. And someday, you might be grateful you asked.
A Prayer for Our Veterans
On this Veterans Day, I’m thinking about my dad, but I’m also thinking about all the other veterans whose stories deserve to be remembered.
Those who served during wartime and peacetime. Those who returned home to loving families and those who struggled to find support. Those who are still with us and those who have died.
I pray especially for veterans who are lonely, grieving, physically injured, or struggling with memories they can’t easily leave behind.
And I pray that we remember our responsibility to care for them beyond one holiday each year.
St. Martin of Tours reminds us that honoring service and practicing compassion belong together.
Sometimes the most meaningful way to thank someone is to notice what they need and offer what we can.
A Prayer for Veterans
Heavenly Father,
Today we give thanks for the men and women who have served our country.
We ask You to bless our veterans with peace, healing, and the support they deserve.
Comfort those who carry wounds that cannot be seen. Strengthen those who struggle with illness, loneliness, grief, or memories of war.
Watch over military families, especially those separated from loved ones.
Grant eternal rest to the veterans who have died, including my father, Vincent Hugh Mousel.
Through the intercession of St. Martin of Tours, teach us to recognize Christ in those who are suffering and to respond with generosity and compassion.
May we honor our veterans not only with our words, but through the care we show them.
And may Your peace take root in our hearts, our communities, and throughout the world.
Amen.
Did you grow up with a veteran in your family?
Do you know much about their time in the military, or are there stories you wish you’d asked them to tell?
I’d love to hear about the people you’re remembering or honoring today.
And to everyone who has served: thank you.
Blessed Veterans Day.
In loving memory of Vincent Hugh Mousel, January 13, 1962 – January 8, 2026. United States Marine Corps veteran.
Further reading: The Catholic Connection: Veterans Day and St. Martin of Tours — Catholic Stand
