My cousin is a sergeant in Japan's army. For fourteen years, he has trained side by side with American soldiers and Marines. In the snow in Hokkaido. On the beaches of California. In the cold of Washington State. Tomorrow is Veterans Day in America. So I asked him to put one question to his unit. "What do you remember about the Americans?" Thirty-one Japanese soldiers answered. "Their sergeants eat last. Every meal. Every day. I asked one of them why. 'Because that's how it's done,' he said. He seemed surprised anybody would ask." (Sergeant, 44) "They complain about everything. The food. The cold. The boots. Then the mission starts, and nobody says a word for fourteen hours." (Corporal, 29) "One American private learned 'arigato' on the first day. He said it to everybody. The cook. Our colonel. A horse." (Private First Class, 23) "They gave me a nickname in about an hour. Ninja. I said I'm from Gunma. They said that's exactly what a ninja would say." (Corporal, 31) "I got homesick in California. A Marine gunnery sergeant drove me forty miles on his day off to a Japanese grocery store. He didn't buy anything. He just waited in the truck." (Sergeant, 36) "In Japan, people don't really thank us. On my first day of training, an American corporal pumped my hand like a well handle and said, 'Thank you for your service.' I thought he was confused. I told him, 'I'm a Japanese soldier.' He said, 'I know.'" (Staff Sergeant, 39) "On the last day, the Americans tried to bow to us. So we saluted, to make it easier for them. They bowed lower. We saluted harder. Two armies stood in a field out-politing each other for a full minute." (Sergeant First Class, 47) One answer was much longer than the others. It came from the unit's sergeant major. He's 55. He retires in the spring. "Winter, 1996. Washington State. I fell through the ice on a creek in full gear. My American partner was a corporal from Montana named Wes. Nobody ordered him in. He came in anyway. Every January for thirty years, I have sent Wes a New Year's card. And every January, the answer from Montana has been the same two words. 'Anytime, brother.'" This year, the unit decided not to wait for January. Thirty-one Japanese soldiers signed one card and mailed it to Montana. In time for Veterans Day. It says two words. So, to every American who ever wore the uniform, from a country where people almost never say it at all: Thank you for your service. Anytime, brothers.