Memorial Day

[OldMan]

I posted this on the AFBlues forums but thought I would put it on here too.

I know Memorial Day weekend isn't until NEXT weekend, but I thought I would post this now. The first time I heard this read on the radio, I was at work and I just stopped what I was doing and listened to the whole thing. It was inspired by the painting "Reflections" that I have posted a pic of here. Two years ago I put together a slide show presentation to go with reading the story on Memorial Day but there's not enough space to post the 32 pics here. If anyone is interested in seeing the whole thing, pm me and I can work something out. Any way, here it is typos and all.

They carried P38 can openers and heat tabs, watches and dog tags, insect repellent, gum, cigarettes, zippo lighters, salt tablets, bandages, ponchos. Some carried Kool-Aid or two or three canteens of water, iodine tablets, sterno, rations stuffed into socks. They carried fatigues and jungle boots, bush hats, flak jackets and steel pots. They carried the M-14 and the M-16 rifle, M-60 machine gun, M-79 grenade launcher, stoners and swedish Ks, 60mm LAWS, shotguns, .45 caliber pistols, silencers. The sounds of bullets, the sounds of rockets and choppers and sometimes the sound of silence. They carried trip flares and claymore mines, C-4 plastic explosives, an assortment of grenades, radios, knives, machetes. Some carried napalm and large bombs. Some risked their lives to rescue others. Some escaped the fear but dealt with the death and the damage. Some made very hard decisions and some just tried to survive. They carried with them malaria, dysentery, ringworms and leeches. They carried the land itself as it hardened on their boots. They carried stationery, pencils and pictures of their loved ones - real and imagined. They carried love for people in the real world and love for one another. They carried memories. For the most part, they carried themselves with poise and a kind of dignity. Now and then there were times when panic set in and people squealed or wanted to but couldn't. When they twitched and made moaning sounds and covered their heads and said "DEAR GOD!" and hugged the earth and fired their weapons blindly and cringed and begged for the noise just to stop and went wild and made stupid promises to themselves and God and their parents, just hoping not to die. They carried the traditions of the United States Military and memories and the images of those who served before them. They carried grief, terror, longing and their reputations. They carried the soldier's greatest fear - the embarrassment of dishonor. They crawled into tunnels, walked point and advanced under fire as to not die of embarrassment. They were afraid of dying but too afraid to show it. They carried the emotional baggage of men who might die at any moment. They carried the weight of the world. And some of them carried each other home in boxes and bags.

At first, there was no place for those to go until someone put up that black granite wall. Now, every day and every night my brothers and my sisters wait to see the many people from places afar file in front of this wall. Many stopping briefly and many for hours and some come on a regular basis. It was hard at first. Not that it's gotten any easier, but it seems that many of the attitudes towards that Vietnam War we were involved in have changed. I hope so and I can only pray that the ones on the other side have learned something and more walls such as this one needn't be built. Several members of my unit and many that I don't even recognize have called me to the wall by touching my name engraved upon it. The tears aren't necessary, but are hard even for me to hold back. Don't feel guilty for not being with me, my brothers, this was MY destiny as it was YOURS to be on THAT side of the wall. So touch the wall my brothers, so we may share in the memories that we had. I've learned to put the bad memories aside and remember really only the pleasant times that we had together. Tell our other brothers out there to come and visit me, not to say goodbye but to say hello and be together again even if it's for just a short time and to ease the pain of loss that we all still share. Today - today an irresistable and loving call summons me to the wall and as I approach, I can see an elderly lady. As I get closer, I recognize her. It's Mama. As much as I have looked forward to this day I have also dreaded it because I didn't know what reaction I would have, and next to her I suddenly see my wife and immediately think how hard it must have been for HER to come to this place. My mind floods with pleasant memories of 30 years past. There's a young man in military uniform standing with his arm around her. My God, it has to be my son! Look at him trying to be a man without a tear in his eye. I yearn to tell him how proud I am seeing him standing tall, straight and proud in his uniform. Mama now comes closer and touches the wall and I feel the soft and gentle touch - I haven't felt that in so many years. "Mama - Dad has crossed to the other side of the wall" and through our touch I try to convey to her that Dad is doing fine and he's no longer suffering or feeling pain. I see my wife's courage building as she sees Mama touch the wall and she approaches and lays her hand on my waiting hand and all of the emotions and the feelings and the memories of 3 decades flash between our touch and I tell her "It's ok - it's alright. Carry on with your life and don't worry about me. I can see as I look into her eyes that she hears me and a big burden has been lifted from her on the wings of understanding. I watch as they lay flowers and other memories of my past -my, my lucky charm that was taken from me and sent to her by my CO. A tattered and worn teddy bear that I can barely remember having as I grew up as a child and several medals that I earned and were presented to my wife. One is a Combat Infantry Badge that I am so very proud of and I notice that my son is also wearing the same medal. I had earned mine in the jungles of Vietnam and he probably earned his in the deserts of Iraq. I can tell now that they're preparing to leave. I try to take a mental picture of them together because I don't know when I'll see them again. I wouldn't blame them if they weren't to return and I can only thank them that I was not forgotten. My wife and Mama near the wall for one final touch and so many years of indecision and fear and sorrow are let go. As they turn to leave, I feel my tears that have not flowed for so many years form as if dew drops on the other side of the wall. They slowly move away with only a sudden glance over their shoulders. My son - he suddenly stops and slowly returns. He stands up straight and proud in front of me and snaps a salute. Something draws him near. He puts his hand upon the etched stone and touches my tears that have formed dew drops on the face of the walls and I can tell that he senses my presence and the pride and the love that I have for him. He falls to his knees and tears flow from his eyes and I try my best to reassure him that it's alright and that tears don't make him less of a man. As he moves back, wiping the tears from his eyes, he slowly mouths "God bless you, Dad." God bless YOU son, we will meet someday but in the meanwhile, go your own way. There's no hurry - there's no hurry at all. As I see them walk off in the distance, I yell out to them and everyone there today as loud as I can and as the others on this side of the wall join in, I notice that the U.S. Flag, Old Glory that so proudly flies in front of us every day is flapping and standing proudly, straight out in the wind from our gathering numbers this day and we shout again and again and again "Thanks for Remembering.... thanks for remembering.........thanks for remembering..."