We called it Armistice Day, the final act of the war, of all wars if we had our way. Except our fathers taught us, by example, expectations, that there would have to be exceptions, excuses, lapses in the silence of the guns. There would be lines drawn in the sands, the jungles, cities of faraway lands that held our national interest. Finally, we owned the truth and changed the name, changed the meaning so we could thank folks for the service we lied to get. Armistices are few and brief, but veterans are endless.