Honor the fallen this Memorial Day by listening to those who came home | Opinion

Memorial Day is often framed as a day of national gratitude — a time to honor the men and women who died while serving in the U.S. Armed Forces. But at Bullets and Bandaids, we’ve come to understand it as something more personal. It’s a day to slow down, to listen, and to reflect on the stories often left unsaid.

We’re a Columbia-based nonprofit that connects veterans and civilians through collaborative storytelling and art. We bring together veterans, writers and visual artists to share the lived experiences of service — stories of courage, trauma, humor, guilt, resilience and humanity. Some come from veterans who lost comrades. Others come from families still grieving. Many carry a weight that’s hard to put into words.

Memorial Day asks us to honor sacrifice. But we believe true honor begins with understanding — and understanding starts with listening.

That’s why we share these stories, not just in galleries or books, but in community spaces across South Carolina and beyond. We’ve seen how one story can open a conversation. How a poem, shaped by a veteran’s voice, can stir something deep in a stranger. And how civilians, moved by a narrative they never expected, feel connected to a loss that isn’t their own.

In our second volume, we worked with a soldier who survived an explosion in Iraq. After his story was written and paired with artwork, he told us, “I wouldn’t have been able to tell my wife my story were it not for the distance Bullets and Bandaids provides.”

That small degree of separation — through a writer, through an artist — allowed him to say what he hadn’t been able to say aloud, even to the person closest to him.

In another program, two South Carolina residents — one Russian, one Afghan — found themselves at the same coffee table. Each had been about 8 years old when the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan. The conversation that unfolded between them was remarkable.

Later, the Afghan veteran told us, “It’s like Bullets and Bandaids found a zipper over my heart, pulled it down, and allowed me to tell my story to a country I fought for and my friends died for.”

These aren’t just stories. They’re bridges. They connect strangers. They break silence.

And sometimes, they offer the first space for a veteran to say, “This happened to me.”

South Carolina is home to nearly 350,000 veterans and a long legacy of military service. From Fort Jackson in Columbia to Marine Corps training at Parris Island, our communities are shaped by the lives and sacrifices of those who serve. Remembering them isn’t just a national duty — it’s part of who we are as a state.

This is how we heal — not by dividing “them” from “us,” but by recognizing that veterans are not just symbols of service. They’re neighbors, friends and family members who carry memories most others never will. Some of those memories are of the fallen — those who didn’t come home, whose stories were cut short.

So this Memorial Day, let’s look beyond hashtags and barbecues. Talk to a veteran. Visit a local memorial. Read a personal story from someone who served. Engage not with the war, but with the people who bore its cost.

Remembering the fallen isn’t just about reverence — it’s about responsibility.

We owe it to those who didn’t come home to truly listen to those who did.

Let’s make this Memorial Day not just a day off — but a day in. A day to listen in. And a day to lean into the stories that help us truly remember.

This story was originally published May 22, 2025 at 5:00 AM.