This is for the people who were first to slap on yellow car stickers "Support Our Troops."

There's never been a better time than now to do just that. But your assignment will take some work.

We've all been supporting the troops all along, but there's been a particularly vocal group shouting down anyone who says, yes, it's possible to hate a war but love the warrior.

So, it's to you - the either/or contingent - that I'm writing.

It's your moment to transform that righteous indignation into something useful by demanding from your legislators and from the military that every veterans' medical facility in the country make damn sure that its facilities, its staffing and its supplies, and its quotient of compassion, are exactly in line with the growing need of troops coming home broken. The yellow stickers were easy. A lick and a promise, and off for a latte.

Writing a letter or making a phone call or sending an e-mail to the brass will demand effort beyond mere talk. So, do it.

Not one news story last week could eclipse in importance the one continuing to unfold around disgusting, outrageous, vile, disrespectful, indecent and dangerous conditions at Walter Reed Medical Center, right there in the nation's capital.

Bad enough that the troops were being treated amid squalor.

But even worse that the story broke not from the brass in top-dog epaulettes. Not from President Bush who sent those kids off to fight.

It issued from the sweat labor of two women reporters at The Washington Post.

So to those of you who spend an appreciable amount of time whining, mewling and puking about the liberal leanings of the press and how no one cares about the troops and the media is being a big meanie to the president, just remember the source of this terrible disclosure.

It wasn't your unassailable government.

It was Dana Priest and Anne Hull sitting at computer screens in the Post newsroom, following up on leads that the country was failing its bravest.

The story broke, and hell broke loose. The plasterers arrived in protective masks, heads rolled at the top echelon, commissions were formed, mea culpas issued. What a disgrace.

Well, now it's your turn. If you really support the troops, speak up, speak out. Get angry about this terrible disservice. Visit your own Veterans Administration Hospital. Volunteer for something.

Do it for the young woman reduced to twin leg prosthesis or young man whose head is full of metal, his memory and future literally shot.

This is how you support the troops. Not with a gratuitous bumper sticker, but with rage and resolve. In any other country, a story such as this might have immediately sent protestors swarming into the streets. Not here. A bumper sticker is a no-sweat contribution.

I'm sending my own letter to the good folks who were supposed to be overseeing things but must have gotten delayed by cocktails somewhere in Georgetown.

This is what I am demanding: Trade places.

Open your homes, with those nice crisp sheets and pretty scented bathrooms and maid service to these soldiers, while you go live with the remaining rodents and roaches at the medical center - or in any other veterans facility in the country that offers substandard care.

The day that happens is the day we know lasting change will come about.

BETSY SHEA-TAYLOR, a former writer and ediotor for The Sun Chronicle, is a freelance writer. She can be reached at prosewing@aol.com.