Questions to ask a veteran in your family

A lot of veterans have two or three service stories they tell. The funny one about the sergeant. The one about the truck that broke down in the snow. Their families have heard them so often they can finish the sentences.

The rest of it, the eighteen-year-old who got on the bus, the friends, the ordinary days, what it was like to come home, often goes untold. Not because it’s secret. Because nobody asked a question that reached it.

Veterans Day is November 11. It’s a natural reason to ask, whether the one who served is your mother or father, a grandparent, an aunt or uncle, or the person you married. Here’s how, and what to ask.

Before you ask

Expect “Why would anyone want to know?” At the 2026 Guided Autobiography Summit, Kenneth Wong, a guided autobiography instructor in Singapore who is building groups for men, described the replies he got when he invited men to write about their lives: Why write? Nobody wants to know about my life. He doesn’t hear that as refusal. To a lot of men, looking back is simply an unfamiliar idea. As he put it, “what’s often missing isn’t the experience. It’s the pause.”

Wong was talking about men, but you may hear the same reply from anyone who served. So don’t argue the point. You won’t win by telling them their life matters. Ask something small and concrete instead, and let the answer make the case.

They decide what to share. One of the ground rules Wong plans for his groups is “share only what you choose.” Say it out loud before you start: You don’t have to answer anything you’d rather not. Some service memories are heavy, and some may never be told. Start with the ordinary days. If they go quiet or change the subject, let them, and move to another question. You’re there to listen, not to dig.

Bring something to hold. A photo of them in uniform, a medal, a patch, a letter they sent home, the footlocker in the basement. An object opens a memory faster than a question does. Where was this taken? Who’s that next to you?

Record it, with their permission. The voice recorder on your phone is enough. Set it on the table, and then forget it’s there. You’ll want their words exactly as they said them, and later you’ll want their voice.

The questions

You won’t get through all of these in one sitting, and you shouldn’t try. Pick three or four. Let the answers take you wherever they go.

Going in

How did you end up in the service?
How old were you? What were you doing the month before?
What did your mother and father say when you told them?
What do you remember about the day you left home?

Training

What was the first day of basic training like?
Who was in charge of you? What were they like?
What surprised you?
What turned out to be easy for you, and what was hard?

The people

Who was your closest friend in the service? How did you meet?
Did anyone have a nickname? Did you?
Who do you still think about? Did you ever hear from them again?

The ordinary days

What did a normal day look like, from the time you woke up?
What was the food like? What did you miss eating?
Where did you sleep?
What did you do when you had time off?
What was the weather like where you were?

Far from home

Who wrote to you? What did you write about in your letters?
What did you miss most?
Was there a day you felt very far away?

Coming home

How did you get home? Who met you?
What was the first thing you wanted to do, or to eat?
What had changed while you were gone? What had changed in you?
What did people ask you about it, and what did they never ask?

Looking back

Wong had a question for men who’ve done everything they set out to do: Do you know how you did it? The next generation, he said, will want to know “not just what was achieved, but who you were and how it happened.” It’s a good question for anyone who served. A list of postings and dates tells you what someone did. These questions ask who they were.

Who were you then? What would you tell your younger self now?
What did the service teach you that you still use?
Is there a day you think about more than the others? (Ask this one gently, and let them pass.)
What do you want your grandchildren to know about that time?

When the answer is short

Many answers will be one sentence. “It was fine.” “The food was terrible.” That’s not the end of the story; it’s the door. Follow it with a small question:

What happened next?
Who else was there?
What did it look like?
What did it sound like?

And then wait. Silence is uncomfortable, and most of us rush to fill it. Don’t. Count to five in your head. Often the real story comes after the pause.

Keep it

When you get home, write down what they said, in their words, the way they said it. Don’t tidy their grammar or make it sound like a history book. The way they tell it is part of the story.

There’s also a place to keep the recording for good. The Veterans History Project at the Library of Congress collects first-person interviews with American veterans of every branch who served at any time since World War I, whether or not they saw combat. A family member can be the interviewer. Their free Field Kit has the forms, a guide to recording and its own list of questions. Keep a copy for your family either way.

One question before Veterans Day

You don’t need a plan or an afternoon. Pick one question from this list. Ask it this week, on the phone or across the table, and listen to the whole answer.

That’s a started story. The rest comes one question at a time.

Sources

Kenneth Wong, guided autobiography instructor and founder of Legacy Art (Singapore), “A Way of Becoming: Guided Autobiography for Men,” 2026 Guided Autobiography Summit, October 15, 2026.
Library of Congress, American Folklife Center, Veterans History Project and the VHP Field Kit.