America’s recent wartime experience, and for that matter, the experience of every war of this nation, teaches us that men and women who serve do so not from a place, but from a frame of mind.

Rural residents take a rightful pride in their patriotism, and the ranks of today’s military swell with those who come from towns most in the world never heard of. Sadly, rosters of the war dead have a disproportionate representation from small communities.

The last couple of days, this newspaper ran a story about the life and death of William J. Allen III.

He grew up around Agency, a town of about 600 just south of St. Joseph. He had a sense of duty and a desire to serve in the military. He became a Marine and took a spot up front in a unit that led the invasion into Iraq.

Mr. Allen didn’t have to serve, didn’t have to go to war. He volunteered.

Wounded in combat and emotionally damaged by what he saw and did, Mr. Allen returned home without parting with the memories of battle. The comfort he found in vodka and pills eventually claimed his life on March 4. He was 26.

The United States military proves capable of defeating and occupying a foreign country. It seems less adept at addressing the growing problem of post-traumatic stress the current wars generate.

One report says that about 20 percent of those who deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan suffer mental-health issues in the aftermath. Suicide rates among Operation Iraqi Freedom troops are nearly double the national average.

When Mr. Allen exhibited the depression, substance abuse and home-front violence that are symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, the Marines saw only his absence without leave as an affront.

Rather than embracing the no-man-left-behind credo, the Corps cut loose a lance corporal who, on the battlefield, helped gather the remains of fallen comrades. The young man, who loved the Marines so much he volunteered at a recruiting office as a teen, got an other-than-honorable discharge.

It was as if the mental damage he suffered was merely coincidental to the combat he endured. And because of his separation status, Mr. Allen got no place in a military cemetery, received no military honors in death.

If he had died of his wounds in Iraq, the Marine would have been afforded his due. Instead, he came home to suffer, died too young in a St. Joseph apartment and gets not so much as a military grave marker.

Rhetoric mounts around Memorial Day about honoring sacrifice, about taking care of those who serve. Elected officials say the words, which are worth saying.

But consider this action. Those with influence, those whose phone calls and letters might get the attention with the Marine commandant or the Department of Defense or even the White House, should step up in defense of the late William Allen.

Don’t wait for a formal request. Don’t wait for a case file to be opened. If you believe in taking care of the troops, take action to get Mr. Allen’s post-traumatic stress acknowledged and other-than-honorable discharge reversed.

Get this Marine a military headstone.

He died, and nothing changes that. But honor what he did for this country.

Ken Newton’s column runs

on Tuesday and Sunday.