Brian was a pudgy, twenty-two-year-old Navy intelligence officer at his first assignment out of the Naval Academy. In front of him stood Jocko Willink, an officer with fifteen years of service in the SEALs and now the commander of a SEAL task unit. Jocko is the walking image of a warrior—a barrel-chested freedom fighter with 6 percent body fat, no hair, and the demeanor of a sledgehammer. To say Brian was intimidated about his new assignment would be an understatement. How would he fit into this elite team?

I stood rapt in interest as I listened to Brian’s story during the first “War Stories” event that I ever attended back in 2014. I was in the first year of the MBA program at Georgetown and the other student veterans were taking turns sharing stories at a happy hour in the student lounge of the Hariri Building. As a nerd for civil-military relations getting my first experience away from the military, I was hooked.

That evening’s event was the continuation of a tradition started in 2009 by GoRuck CEO and former Green Beret Jason McCarthy when he was a student in the same program. Dubbed “War Stories (and Free Beer),” the intent is to lower the social barriers and create opportunities for connection and understanding between veterans and society. Like a TEDx event with booze, everyone loved it.

The following year, it was my turn to host the event and I got my first taste of prepping speakers. I learned a lot from it. The stories were good, but we could have made them much better. I held the line with one individual who wanted to puff out his chest and spew a bunch of acronyms. I didn’t let him speak, but I wish I could have broken through with him. Every veteran has a story worth telling if you can find it.

Fifty years into the all-volunteer force, stories of military service are more important than ever. The share of Americans with connections to the military is at the lowest point in the last century. We need military, veterans, and dependents who can tell stories that humanize the military experience and connect with civilian society so that we do not drift further apart (or at least not as fast).

In the decade since Georgetown, I have helped organize similar events via veteran and military affinity groups with various employers. Along the way, I have learned what makes for a good war story (and when to not give someone the mic) and have become even more sure that America needs war stories.

With minor exceptions, America today only knows the military through Hollywood’s lens and the front page of the newspaper—neither of which are accurate. I often start these events by asking the audience whether they think The Hurt Locker or G.I. Joe is a more accurate depiction of the military. The veterans always know it’s a trick question. I usually add that the movie Stripes could not be made today because America is so disconnected from the military that we can’t (or don’t feel comfortable) making fun of it.

The overwhelming majority of men and women who serve in the military are not Chris Kyle or Pat Tillman. Instead, they are wonderful people who served honorably—yet unremarkably. For most veterans, military service was not as starkly different from civilian life as many civilians imagine. The chasm of understanding is not as unbridgeable as we treat it, but precious few Americans understand the military experience.

Veterans Day was originally enacted to “to perpetuate peace” by commemorating the extraordinary service demanded from the Great War. It deserves so much more than a well-intended yet hollow “Thank you for your service.” To truly commemorate service, Veterans Day needs stories.

Everyone who joins the military will eventually leave it and be a veteran for much longer. So, it is important that we—the veterans and military-connected community—all learn how to tell these stories. I want to share the lessons I’ve learned about good stories.

My ground rules for speakers are simple. First, you must tell a story, not just rattle off your service record. Second, the story must be about you, but you cannot be the hero, victim, or villain. Lastly, if you share your story at an organized event and you must include slides, they must adhere to the TED format: huge font or picture only. For some speakers, these ground rules are all they need. They understand human connection and storytelling and can craft a compelling story without more guidance.

Most speakers need more help though. Most of us don’t organize our thoughts in a way that weaves a message as a through line in a story. To help with this, I ask speakers two questions: What is the one thing that you want people to know about your military service? And why does this message matter to you? The former is much easier than the latter, but the why matters much more in the end.

For the audience to truly connect with the story and the speaker, it cannot simply be a series of events. Listeners must understand the speaker’s perspective—the emotional and psychological underpinnings of the story. So, it’s important to tease this out.

It is impossible to tell someone honestly why you served in the military. There is rarely one reason and we want to ascribe more value to the noblest motivation (a sense of duty over money for college, for example). But, defining the story’s core message helps bring forth something important: Why is military service important to who you are today? This is the stuff that lasting connections across the civil-military divide are made of—and those connections truly matter.

Admittedly, I’m very proud of my military service. But my role at these events is the emcee, not a speaker. I create the opportunities for the connections because I strongly believe that America needs to stay in touch with the military that serves in its name.

In 2006, an unnamed Army officer in Iraq was famously quoted saying, “We’re at war, America’s at the mall.” War stories matter. A society disconnected from foreign policy is not good. We risk waging expensive wars and impacting countless lives in minute and monumental ways for little benefit to society. While I firmly believe that the all-volunteer force is a good thing for America, it must be balanced by society understanding military service.

Today, the military is in a recruiting crisis. Even the veterans who served over the last twenty years in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Syria are less supportive of their children serving. America needs a strong military, but if Americans no longer believe that the government will be good custodians of their service or lives, they will not volunteer to serve.

So, tell war stories on Veterans Day. Talk to your colleagues and neighbors about your service. Give the military a face and a name. Help Americans understand what military service is all about and why our foreign policy matters.

Jim Perkins is a lieutenant colonel in the Army Reserve. He is professionally passionate about military talent management reform and civil-military relations to better support “who serves, how they serve, and why they serve.”

The views expressed are those of the author and do not reflect the official position of the United States Military Academy, Department of the Army, or Department of Defense.

Image credit: Airman Juliana Londono, US Air Force