I walked out as soon as the evaluation was over, and I never went back. If I needed help, I wasn’t going to get it there.

This was in 2004, six months before James Nicholson inherited a Department of Veterans Affairs already strained by the nearly two-year-old war. As a Marine among the first wave of veterans to return from Iraq, I simply figured it was going to take a little while longer for the VA to get its wartime footing.

It seems little has changed between then and now, except perhaps for the severity of soldiers’ injuries inflicted by a more adept and resourceful enemy.

Nicholson’s announcement on Tuesday that he would resign as Secretary of Veterans Affairs came as a surprise to most. The political spin storm still managed to get off the ground in no time. Illinois Sen. Barack Obama released a statement saying Nicholson left the VA worse than he found it. White House Press Secretary Tony Snow said the president was grateful for Mr. Nicholson’s service.

It seemed that those with the most to say were the least affected.

The truth is, most veterans have probably never heard of Secretary Nicholson. After a quick polling of my close military friends, I learned not one could recall his name. My father, a Korean War veteran who still receives monthly disability checks, could not either.

Critics say Nicholson’s record as secretary of Veterans Affairs is unremarkable, if not a complete failure. His legacy will be marked by last year’s theft of equipment containing personal information for millions of veterans, and his overspending of the VA budget in 2005.

I’ll remember him as just another leader who came and went as the war continued.

Still, as a veteran, it’s difficult for me to accept the notion that Nicholson was negligent of my wounded comrades, despite the fact 400,000 vets had disability claims pending under his watch. He is a Vietnam vet. He was awarded the Bronze Star and the Combat Infantryman Badge. There is a strong—albeit idealistic—urge to believe Nicholson didn’t betray the storied military bond preached throughout boot camp by my drill instructors. On the day of his resignation, the facts and numbers seemed to show otherwise.

This is what happens when veterans take care of other veterans. It’s hard not to take it personally when things go wrong.

But Nicholson is just one man. There are still the usual suspects to hold accountable: the Bush administration, past administrations, politicians, bureaucrats and the news media. Further still, there is the American public, who cried out over the injustices at Walter Reed Army Medical Center, but never truly demanded a follow-up to make sure it wasn’t happening again.

Secretary Nicholson’s departure is significant only in that it will hardly make a difference for the average veteran. He will leave, someone else will come in—the confirmation hearings may or may not be heated—and in the end nothing will really change. It is a cynical view, but one that has been cultivated over many years of disappointment.

Donald Rumsfeld is gone, Gen. David Petraeus is now in charge on the ground in Iraq and the Democrats control Congress. We have seen continuing change in leadership positions throughout the government; still, the critics condemn and proponents defend. Caught in the middle are more than a million Iraq War vets who just want to put the fighting behind them and live the kind of lives they dreamt about during those infrequent moments of quiet underneath the desert sky.

Just the other night, I met a friend from my old unit who’d recently returned from a devastating tour in the Anbar province. He was drunk when I saw him, drinking a can of cheap beer concealed in a brown paper bag.

On the way to the bar, I stood at a corner waiting for the traffic to stop before crossing the busy Manhattan street. My friend kept walking, telling me that traffic would have to stop for him. He stumbled into the middle of the crosswalk, taunting the angry horns from taxi cabs, showing no fear as cars swerved by him.

I’d been told he stopped drinking, but there he was still bearing the burden of his fallen comrades, memorialized on a bracelet worn around his wrist.

Do you think he cares who the secretary of Veterans Affairs is? I doubt it. Just get him some help.