A nation is judged not just by the wars it fights, but by how it treats those it sends to fight them.
The difference between how the United States treats its service men and women and how Britain treats hers could not be starker. It is night and day. Honour versus neglect. Celebration versus suspicion. Pride versus quiet embarrassment.
Last week, Donald Trump stood before the American people and did something that would be unthinkable in Britain. He announced what he called "warrior dividends" - a direct cash payment to 1.45 million serving American troops. Every soldier, sailor, airman and marine will receive $1,776, landing in their bank accounts in time for Christmas.
The symbolism was not accidental. 1776 was the year America declared its independence - a deliberate reminder that the freedoms Americans enjoy todaywere forged by men and women willing to fight for them. Trump made the point plainly: nobody deserves it more than the military.
Now contrast that with Britain.
Here, veterans live under the perpetual threat of the state's axe - endless investigations, historical prosecutions, and legal harassment for actions taken in the heat of conflict, often decades ago. Soldier F is only the latest example. Men who served their country under lawful orders are dragged through courts and inquiries, not because justice demands it, but because politicians lack the spine to defend them.
In America, soldiers are honoured as warriors. In Britain, they are treated as liabilities.
As a former Royal Marine Commando, I know from direct experience that this country does not do enough for those who serve - arguably, it does next to nothing.
The transition into civilian life is brutal. You lose structure, purpose, identity and community overnight. What replaces it is not a coherent state-led system of support,but a patchwork of charities doing their best to compensate for government abdication.
There is no serious, centralised coordination. No joined-up plan. Just warm words, tick-box initiatives, and an expectation that volunteers will carry the burden the state refuses to shoulder.
The results are plain to see. Veterans are grotesquely overrepresented among the homeless. Mental health provision is inconsistent and overstretched. Employment support is often superficial.
Housing promises evaporate and many of the housing for serving personnel is not fit for use. Britain asks extraordinary things of its service personnel - and then offers them remarkably little in return.
And yet we are told, endlessly, that "lessons must be learned", that "processes must be followed", that "the rule of law" requires our soldiers to be investigated until the end of time. What is never discussed is the moral obligation of a nation to stand behind those it sends into harm's way.
Trump's announcement was not merely about money. It was a statement of values. At a time when Americans are struggling with housing costs, childcare bills and healthcare expenses, the President chose to prioritise the armed forces. He said, unequivocally, that the military comes first.
Britain does the opposite. Our political class - particularly on the Labour benches -treats service men and women as a welfare problem rather than national assets. Support is outsourced. Responsibility is diluted. Instead of gratitude, veterans receive endless paperwork. Instead of honour, they receive suspicion. Britain once led the world in military tradition and civic duty. Today, it lectures its soldiers about historical guilt while failing to house them, employ them, or protect them from legal persecution. We ask young men and women to fight our wars, then abandon them when the cameras move on.
America understands something Britain has forgotten: morale matters. Recognition matters. Loyalty must flow both ways. You cannot build a serious defence posture while treating veterans as expendable. You cannot claim to support the armed forces while allowing them to be hounded, impoverished, and ignored. And you cannot pretend to be a grateful nation while doing nothing to prove it.
Trump's warrior dividend is not perfect. It may face legal challenges. But it sends a message Britain desperately needs to hear. A country that will not stand by its brave men and women is a country quietly surrendering its soul.