I grew up in the shadow of Fort Riley in Kansas, and that meant I routinely saw green fatigues when running errands with my mom around Junction City.

Every semester we had new kids in our classes because their parents were stationed at Fort Riley. It seemed like half of my friends had parents who were either civilian contractors at the fort, retired from service or serving in the National Guard. Some of my teachers were retired Army personnel or had some other tie to Fort Riley.

And when I say I grew up in the shadow of the fort, I really mean it, friends. Our farm was under its flight path for helicopter training. When they were training, some days the house shook with artillery booms. And for a brief stint, my folks put up prairie hay on their tank range.

Still, other than one uncle who was in Vietnam, and a few friends who enlisted after we graduated from high school, I don’t have a close personal tie to a veteran. I am one of millions of Americans who live blissfully under the protection of those men and women who put on the uniform and stand at our gates — both literally and figuratively — defending our nation.

Deep appreciation for service

I don’t know, and I don’t pretend to know what it’s like to serve our country in wartime or to stay home while your loved one does. But I do know that I owe a deep debt of gratitude for those who have. And I will use whatever voice, whatever privilege, I have as a U.S. citizen to advocate for those who have served and now need our help.

Growing up, I also remember the veterans in the community who didn’t have it so good when they came home — the ones who couldn’t adjust to civilian life, who were left to the edges of society, who couldn’t quiet the screams in their heads or the nightmares that haunted their nights. You could pick them out of the crowd, and it broke your heart.

My dad and grandpa would hire guys from the fort occasionally to help around the farm in one capacity or another. They usually had some sort of mechanical skills they could apply to the farm. And in exchange, living out in the country seemed to help them.

Farming has always attracted quite a few military veterans after their service. The 2022 Census of Agriculture shows that about 289,372 farms are operated by a producer with current or prior military service, or about 15% of all farm operations. Of those, 84,000 raise cattle and 59,000 raise other livestock.

Now, how many of those are returning to established family operations or who are trying to start out on their own, I’m not sure. But from my experience with those guys who worked with us when we were farming and raising cattle, I can understand how working with livestock can be a good fit for some. Cattle don’t talk back, and their motives are pretty easy to understand.

It also calls to mind a story I wrote earlier this year, Helping veterans heal, one beehive at a time. Retired Army Col. Gary LaGrange told me that after 9/11, the U.S. had more than 1.5 million veterans — with about 40% wanting a career in agriculture.

Helping vets find ag jobs

How many of those veterans could we employ on our farms to fill the labor crisis we have in farm country? We have the Military Veterans Agricultural Liaison through USDA, which helps veterans enter agriculture through a couple of ways. But, friends, we need to think bigger.

Could our farm organizations work together to create internship or apprenticeship pathways for military veterans to work on our Kansas farms and ranches? Can we challenge Kansas State, Fort Hays State, and our other universities and community colleges to help us onboard veterans with the right? Can we put our collected voices together to do better by those who served, and at the same time, help our farms, our ranches and our rural communities thrive?

I think we can. And I challenge you who are members to speak up in your farm organization meetings this winter and ask, “What can we do?”

They stood by our country. It’s time we stand by them.