the war and the wall

The War and The Wall:Service, Sacrifice

and Honor

Compiled by Jan C. ScruggsFounder and President

Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund

For more information:

Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund1023 15th Street, NWSecond FloorWashington, D.C. 20005202-393-0090 phone, 202-393-0029 faxwww.vvmf.org, [email protected]

© 2002, Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund, Inc.

Printed in the United States of AmericaFirst Edition

Cover, front and back, photo credits:Daniel Arant

TABLE OF CONTENTSPage

Foreword . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . i

The WarRandom Acts of Kindness Occur . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

The Honorable Eugene R. SullivanForever Remembering Those on The Wall . . . . . . . . 3

Tom BrokawWhy We Fought . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7

Lionel ChetwyndApplying the Good and the Bad . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11

Maj. Gen. David L. Grange, USA (Ret.)Vietnam, Fighting and Healing . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13

Senator John Kerry (D-MA)Vietnam: Then, Now and the Future . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18

Lt. Gen. Harold G. Moore, USA (Ret.)Teaching the Lessons of Vietnam . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20

Lindy G. PolingVietnam: A Journey through the Years . . . . . . . . . . . . 23

Jack SmithA Memorial of Courage . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28

Governor Jesse Ventura (I-MN)Freedom, War and Patriotism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30

Congressman J.C. Watts, Jr. (R-OK)

Those Who ServedI Can’t Remember His Name . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35

Dr. J. Craig VenterPatriotism’s Call . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39

Congressman David E. Bonior (D-MI)

Page

Rick Rescorla, American Hero . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42John Dibble

The Real Badge of Courage . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46Lt. Col. Richard J. Gallant, USA (Ret.)

Payback Time . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48Joe Galloway

The Ultimate Roll Call . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51Governor Tony Knowles (D-AK)

Grief Denied—A Vietnam Widow’s Story . . . . . . . . 54Pauline Laurent

Brown Eyes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58Lt. Col. Janis Nark, USAR (Ret.)

Vietnam + 36 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60Brig. Gen. Wilma L. Vaught, USA (Ret.)

What Makes a SEAL—My Perspective . . . . . . . . . . . 65RADM George R. Worthington, USN (Ret.)

The WallWe Are All Connected . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71

Senator Chuck Hagel (R-NE)The Wall and I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74

Lt. Col. Frank Bosch, USAF (Ret.)Sons and Daughters in Touch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77

Tony CorderoA Visit to The Wall . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79

Charlie HarootunianHealing in Los Alamos . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81

Heather HullThe War, The Wall and an Elusive Dream . . . . . . . . . 85

Stanley Karnow

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Memorial in Silence at The Wall . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88Senator Ted Kennedy (D-MA)

The Wall: A National Shrine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 90Mary Matalin

The Wall: An Educational Experience . . . . . . . . . . . 92James Percoco

How The Wall Helped America Heal . . . . . . . . . . . . 95The Honorable Anthony J. Principi

Juan’s Quest . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98Ron Worstell

VVMF Programs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101

ForewordJan Scruggs

Vietnam was a traumatic experience for America. Forthose who saw combat, Vietnam—and its aftermath—were especially difficult.

Yet each of us learns poignant lessons throughadversity and even tragedy. The authors in this bookare examples of men and women who have stories totell and insights to share. Each story provides the readerwith hope, inspiration or a history lesson. Some ofthese essays are filled with emotion. Others addressthe complex, multifaceted impact and perpetual debateabout the Vietnam War.

Read about Judge Eugene R. Sullivan’s difficultdecision in Vietnam. Learn how Dr. J. Craig Venter’sVietnam experience later impacted his life’s work. Andsee how Senator Chuck Hagel continues to beinfluenced by his Vietnam service.

Despite the varying subject matters and perspectives,one theme permeates all of the essays—service.Service to country and service to one another. Eachessay touches in some way on the brave men andwomen who served in the U.S. Armed Forces inVietnam. Their service and sacrifices are rememberedand honored throughout this book.

The War and The Wall: Service, Sacrifice and Honoris for all age groups. We are especially hopeful thatyoung people will enjoy reading this book. For mostAmericans, Vietnam is a fading memory. For thosenot born during that era, it is not even that. Today’s

high school students were born after The Wall wasbuilt in 1982.

It is our hope that you, the reader, will gain fromthis book a greater understanding of the Vietnam War,the Vietnam veteran and the Vietnam VeteransMemorial.

Please enjoy this book and the valuable messagesthat are provided. When you are finished, give thisbook to a Vietnam veteran. And say “Thank you forserving our country.”

Let me acknowledge the following people whohelped bring this book to pass:

Vietnam veterans Paul Critchlow and John Dibble,and Memorial Fund staff members: Tricia Edwards,Mariah French, Alan Greilsamer, Sarah Preston andHolly Rotondi.

The War

Random Acts of Kindness Occur—Even in a War ZoneJudge Eugene R. Sullivan

A 1964 graduate of West Point Military Academy, Judge Sullivanearned the Bronze Star, Air Medal and other decorations for hisservice in Vietnam. Today, he serves on the U.S. Court of Appealsfor the Armed Forces.

Not long after my graduation from West Point in 1964I found myself in command of a helicopter in Vietnam.We were making a low altitude reconnaissance of anarea where there had been enemy activity.

I spotted what appeared to be a North Vietnamesesoldier, unarmed, standing in a rice paddy. He wasfrozen with fear. The gunners with me asked per-mission to kill the obviously surprised and vulnerablesoldier.

I refused to give my permission. We were taught atWest Point the laws of war. Civilians were to beprotected. Perhaps he was a civilian, I thought. MyCatholic beliefs as well weighed on my decision.

I told the pilot to land the helicopter. The chopperleft me in the paddy and took off to hover overheadfor safety. I walked up to the man holding my pistol.He clearly had on an enemy uniform. Yet the uniformdid not display any insignia. So, theoretically, he wasjust a poor young man who had on military clothing. Ialso saw that he was about my age and utterly terrified.

He spoke no English. I asked him, “Are you a VietCong?”

He said, “me no VC.”

2 THE WAR AND THE WALL

I motioned for the helicopter to land. I told the youngman that he was free to go. It was clear to me that hewas most likely a North Vietnamese soldier andcapturing him would have resulted in an uncertain fateas a Prisoner of War.

I have had a most successful career since my militaryservice ended. I am now a federal judge. Perhaps thatyoung man survived the war as well. If so, he probablylives in a rural village, perhaps near Hanoi.

From time to time he tells an interesting story of aU.S. soldier who gave him a chance to live. Andperhaps he, too, showed mercy to another young manon a battlefield.

Forever Remembering Thoseon The WallTom Brokaw

Tom Brokaw serves as managing editor of the “NBC NightlyNews.” He joined NBC News in 1966 and has been the sole anchorof the evening news program since 1983.

Sometime in late 1967 I was enroute from Los Angelesto San Francisco to cover a major disturbance in poor,mostly black neighborhoods. At the airport I noticeda squad of soldiers with combat packs, carrying theirweapons, preparing to board a charter airliner forVietnam. They were saying passionate good-byes togirlfriends, wives and families. It was late at night in aremote corner of the terminal and I remember thinking,“The two Americas—rioting in the streets of a greatcity and a little noticed departure for a far off war.”

It was just a moment but it was so emblematic ofthat divisive, confusing and costly time. It has stayedwith me in part because it represented the two parts ofmy life as well. I was a rising young reporter withNBC, just 27, with one child and another on the way.My draft classification was 1-Y, a secondary statusassigned five years earlier when first Navy OCSdoctors and then Army examiners decided my flat feetwere not warrior material. Besides, Vietnam had notheated up and there was no manpower shortage.

But as the war began to take its toll and more youngAmericans were rushed into uniform, flat feet and otherdeficiencies were set aside. My youngest brother


enlisted in the Marines and made it all the way toVietnam despite a profound hearing loss. Once there,however, it was wisely decided he should stay off thefront lines where all the senses have to be at their peak.Nonetheless, he went while many of his contem-poraries did not because they were protected by collegedeferments, a fact not lost on our working class father.He was proud of my college education and his role asa major underwriter but when it came to service forone’s country, especially in a combat zone, he rightlyfailed to see why college boys could stay in schoolwhile the working class was vulnerable.

Dad’s anger was sharpened during the 1968 Demo-cratic convention in Chicago, that riotous clashbetween the party establishment and anti war forces. Ireturned from covering it fully expecting his populistinstincts and beliefs to make him sympathetic to thestreet people. Wrong. We had a long night of raisedvoices over protests, long hair, the most effective wayto criticize the war and the place of traditional valuesin the Sixties.

I was torn. I hated the war because I had come tobelieve almost nothing its promoters in Washingtonwere promising. Yet I had not given up on America. Iwas offended by the witless acts of street theaterdenigrating the rule of the law, common decency,personal responsibility, all in the name of protest.

I was most impressed by the courage and theconviction of those who were willing to pay theconsequences of resisting the draft or who spent timeas conscientious objectors. I was also moved by thecourage of my friends who, despite my counsel,enlisted or returned for a second tour.

TOM BROKAW 5

In the political arena I will always remember theboldness of Senator Gene McCarthy who led the wayagainst President Johnson in the primary elections.McCarthy, a cold and distant man up close andpersonal, nonetheless brought a new kind of intel-lectual passion to the debate the country needed tohave.

No politician, however, was more effective in theanti war effort than the late Robert Kennedy. He couldspeak eloquently against the war to a college campusand then stun the audience with a lecture on how itwas inappropriate for them to hide behind extendedsemesters while young men from the ghetto took theirplace in the killing fields.

Now, looking back, I cannot fathom how it all lastedso long. Two presidential elections, night after nightof combat footage, body bags and demonstrations,POWs, military rites in small town cemeteries, JohnWayne movies for and Jane Fonda movies against.

All the lessons are now painfully obvious. Wars haveto have clear objectives and the backing of not just theelders in Washington but also the young. It cannot bea class warfare with one privileged group able to seeksanctuary while another group takes a bullet. Themilitary should run a war, but the role of the electedofficials and yes, the press is critical to the effort.

World War II was a much different kind of war thanVietnam. The perils to America if we had done nothingwere obvious to all. Indeed, the hubris that came withour victory in World War II no doubt contributed tothe plunge into Vietnam. Nonetheless, we can takefrom World War II now a lesson, and still apply it to


Vietnam. Honor those who served and especially thosewho did not return.

My friend Gene Kimmel was one who did not comeback. He was a Marine fighter pilot, a daring,iconoclastic and brilliant young man from the SouthDakota prairie. After his initial tour we sat in his familyquarters at Camp Pendleton and talked about his owndoubts about the war, his frustration with the rules,the deceits. But he was going back. He was selectedfor a new squadron to fly a hot forward observer plane.I spent a long alcoholic night trying to dissuade him,to no avail.

A few months later I flew to South Dakota for hisburial, my inner rage collapsing into tears when themissing man formation flew over his gravesite. Later,in the church basement where a noon dinner wasserved, I was preparing to return to California whenhis father, a gnarled mechanic with only a rudimentaryeducation, took my hand in his and said, quietly,“Whatever he done, he done good, didn’t he?”

I hated the war that took my friend but I loved himfor his sense of service and, yes, whatever he done, hedone good.

Why We FoughtLionel Chetwynd

Lionel Chetwynd was the screenwriter and director for “To Heala Nation,” the story about Jan Scruggs’ efforts to build The Wall.He also wrote and directed “The Hanoi Hilton.”

The War in Vietnam was not the comprehensive failureso many experts and self-appointed pundits would haveus believe. It was brutal and often brutalizing, no doubt;but it must be understood in the context of its times.

Just as those who experienced The Hundred YearsWar did not call it that, we who lived through the fiftyyears of what John Kennedy described as the “twilightstruggle” against totalitarian Soviet Communism hadno sense of how long it would last nor what price wouldbe exacted for eventual victory. But if you wonderwhether the cost was justified, ask the now-liberatedcitizens of Eastern Europe—or indeed, the millionsacross the globe where proxy “wars of liberation” areslowly but surely being replaced with democraticinstitution building and agonizingly slow but certaineconomic growth. For as surely as Czechs and Polesnow elect their leaders, so too is South Africanapartheid a forgotten thing because, in largest measure,the pressures of the Cold War that permitted an evilregime to avoid international censure is now only abitter memory. And the signs of economic progressand budding democracy are no less evident in Vietnamitself.

In some circles it’s become fashionable to explainaway the destruction of the Soviet Union as an


inevitable certainty, a predictable collapse brought onby dimly understood economic flaws within theCommunist system. Some go so far as to suggest thatwe in the West were merely audience to an internaldeterioration that would have run its course no matterwhat we did. That is simply untrue. The Cold War waswon at a terrible cost of blood and treasure by freedom-loving peoples whose governments—led unfailinglyand determinedly by the United States of America, attimes virtually alone—ensured that not only our ownchildren but also those of distant strangers would knowliberty and not oppression as the context for their lives.It was why free people organized the Berlin Airlift,supported Taiwan, sacrificed in Korea, and neverwavered even as Americans came under fire andpersecution from Lebanon to Tehran and across theworld.

And it was why 3.2 million Americans served inSoutheast Asia of whom 58,229 made the supremesacrifice. When we guaranteed the provisions of theGeneva Peace Accords of 1954, we undertook to standup for the liberty of people in a land ravaged by aFrench Colonial war that Paris could no longermaintain. The Communists claimed to be the onlylegitimate voice for the newly decolonializedIndochina. But for the millions who fled the North forthe South, particularly persecuted Christians andBuddhists, the issue of who would rule them andwhether there would be free elections was not anacademic question. And whether a revolutionaryCommunist regime safely ensconced in all of Vietnamcould be trusted not to spread its tyranny to all its

LIONEL CHETWYND 9

neighbors was not a theoretical debate. Not to us, norto the Australians who, in the direct line of fire, sentits own fighting men and women to serve alongsideour own in aiding the Southern forces. Those alliesshould also never be forgotten. Those like myself, whodid not serve in that agony should look upon thosewho did with an awesome respect for their sense ofduty, no matter what their—or our—political viewsare or were.

And we must not be confused as to what the realissue was; that requires understanding that our politicalleaders were not always the equal of those whom theysent off to that distant war. Indeed the lessons of failedpolitical will and the consequences of the refusal byelected leaders to tell the truth of the realities on theground created political pathologies that still eat awayat parts of our nation. We are in many ways still thepoorer and sadder for that. But we are wiser. And recentevents have shown that honest and vigorous leadershipwill still rally the American people to the cause ofliberty for yet unborn generations. And surely that isbecause we understand that America is more than thoseblessed to call ourselves her citizens at this moment.This nation is an idea kept alive by a solemn pactbetween ourselves with those who are no longer withus as well as those who are yet to be. And that is whyall Americans, from the beginning of the Republic tothe end of time, will be indebted to the men and womenwho traveled eight thousand miles to defend thefreedom of those whom they knew little about.

Their service and sacrifice was not in vain. It was inthe greatest tradition of this great nation.


Let us resolve to be worthy of them as we continueto go about their unfinished task of building “a shiningcity on the hill” here at home and a free and peacefulworld for all peoples and all nations.

And may God grant our heroes peace and bless theirmemory.

In honoring those who answered the call of duty, wedo not honor war. But we honor the peace they sought,the freedoms that they fought to preserve, and the hopethat they held out to a world that’s still struggling tolearn how to settle differences among people andamong nations without resorting to violence.

President Jimmy CarterExcerpted from his speech in the White House Rose

Garden Ceremony on July 1, 1980 enacting legislation thatprovided federal land for the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.

Applying the Good and the BadMaj. Gen. David L. Grange, USA (Ret.)

Maj. Gen. David L. Grange began serving as executive vicepresident and chief operating officer of the Robert R. McCormickTribune Foundation in November 1999. Prior to joining thefoundation, he served 30 years in the U.S. Army with assignmentsin Vietnam and the Gulf War.

The United States of America lost the war in Vietnambut it prepared many of us who continued to serve infuture conflicts. Taking what worked in that war, andassuring mistakes made were not repeated, I appliedthese lessons written in blood for the next 25 years ofservice.

Vietnam was sustained combat, day in and day out,24 hours a day; relentless, demanding, and unforgivingof any mistakes. Soldiers died when mistakes weremade due to officer incompetence or a lack of trainingin units. You learned quickly in this kind of war,continually applying those experiences in sustainedcombat.

After Vietnam I accepted a duty to train soldiersunder my care with what was learned in that war. Iowed those fallen comrades something—recog-nition—for their service and sacrifice, a responsibilityto train new soldiers with what was learned in combat,and as a leader, set the example for officer competence.

The Vietnam experience, and what I learned in thatwar, shaped my intense training regimen in allcommand positions through division commander.

I inherited a responsibility for combat readiness that


was non-negotiable. It was a duty commitment to everysoldier’s mom and dad, wife and husband, son anddaughter. It became a way of life for me and mycommand. This commitment provided the drive thataccomplished missions and saved lives throughout therange of conflict—from peace support operations tocounter terrorism, from contingency raids to desertwar.

My father and I, who served together in Vietnam,both feel the sorrow for our fallen comrades and a warlost, but also a sense of pride and thanks from whatwe have learned in that war which benefited manysoldiers in our care.

During visits to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Ifeel very proud as I whisper with tears in my eyes tothe names on The Wall—“Thanks, you that have fallenmade a difference then and now.”

DUTY FIRST.

Vietnam, Fighting and HealingSenator John Kerry (D-MA)

Senator Kerry served in the Mekong Delta with the Navy andearned several medals, including the Purple Heart. TheDemocratic Senator is presently serving his third termrepresenting Massachusetts.

April in Washington, D.C. has always meant cherryblossoms, spring and tourists on the Mall. Thirty-oneyears ago, it meant court battles, demonstrators andwarriors in wheelchairs on the Mall.

In 1971, I was among thousands of Vietnam veteranswho gathered in our nation’s capital to try and helpend a war that our common experience on thebattlefield told us had become a fight to protect thereputations of politicians in Washington rather thanthe lives of young people fighting in a far-away place.

We were eclectic in race, creed, length of hair andstyle of dress, but our souls had been soldered togetherby the shared experience of firefights and booby traps,lies and blood. We had experienced with visceralintensity what most of our countrymen could barelyimagine; and it had ripped from us our innocence, ourpatience, our beliefs and, in some cases, our limbs.

Our service had given us an unfiltered vantage pointfrom which to view an unendurable tragedy. And thewitness we bore was a challenge to every officialpretension about the war, including Vietnameseattitudes, U.S. methods, the morale of our troops, andthe prospects for victory.


I’d volunteered for Vietnam but had been drafted bymy conscience to speak out against the war upon myreturn.

I was invited to testify before the Senate ForeignRelations Committee. The Committee provided thebest platform we had to share the memories of madnesswith which we lived. The truths we had to tell wouldbe unwelcome to most Americans. But if we did notspeak, our fellow citizens would never understand; andif they did not understand, the war would drag on andmany more Americans would die.

That spring morning, I drew strength from theveterans who joined me in the Committee room, andfrom the knowledge of support from other vets aroundthe city and across America. Many of my colleagueshad been exposed to fiercer fighting than I for longerperiods; many bore deeper scars and more enduringwounds. My task was to tell their story, our story, withthe honesty it demanded, and the brevity—never easyfor me—that circumstances required.

I spoke of the anger we felt toward leaders inWashington who glorified body counts, inflatedmeaningless battles into extravaganzas, and put theircareers above the lives of our soldiers.

I spoke of the unfairness of sending to the killingfields of this war troops that were disproportionatelypoor and disproportionately black.

I asked how we could ask anyone to be the last manto die in Vietnam; the last man to die for what had bythen become a mistake. And so I spoke of the wintersoldiers’ determination to undertake one last mission“to search out and destroy the last vestige of this

SENATOR JOHN KERRY (D-MA) 15

barbaric war . . . so when thirty years from now ourbrothers go down the street without a leg, without anarm, or a face, and small boys ask why, we will beable to say ‘Vietnam’ and mean not a desert, not afilthy obscene memory, but mean instead whereAmerica finally turned and soldiers like us helped itin the turning.”

The “turning” of which I spoke in 1971 has been acollective enterprise, not a solo flight.

As I sweated in front of television lights, JohnMcCain sweated as a prisoner of war in Hanoi. It wouldbe more than two years before he and other prisonerswould return to our shores bearing with them theirown truths. North Vietnam’s cruelty before and aftervictory re-validated America’s honorable intentions,though not our criminally-flawed tactics and strategy.

In the years that followed, our nation struggled toconfront the war’s surplus of sad legacies—AgentOrange, Amer-Asian orphans, abandoned allies, exiledand imprisoned draft dodgers, doubts about whetherall our POWs had come home, and the anguish of tensof thousands of veterans who returned from thebattlefield to be greeted not by bands and balloons,but rather indifference and neglect.

The fissures created by Vietnam were stubbornlyresistant to closure. Each step was its own drama asactivists battled government secrecy and publiccomplacency, struggling to overcome the willfulamnesia of a society that did not want to remember.Led by veterans and family members from all parts ofthe political spectrum, advocates fought the forgettingand pushed America finally to begin healing what was


healable, and recognizing and mourning what was not.Overseas, the journey from dropping bombs to

shaking hands with Vietnam was at least as rocky, onboth sides. No one played a more important role thanJohn McCain, now Senator, and other ex-POWs suchas Pete Peterson, now U.S. Ambassador to Hanoi.Their willingness to focus on next steps, rather thanre-live old horrors—coupled with Vietnam’s improvedcooperation on POW-MIAs—made normalizationpossible.

Reconciliation does not require forgiving or paperingover wounds. It does require letting go of anger;understanding that there is more of life to be lived;and realizing that it is possible to take concrete stepsto build a future better than the past.

If we could not do this, we would never progress.We would find ourselves trapped in the kind of bitternostalgia that has long plagued the Balkans and MiddleEast. We would live among ghosts, not people, andendlessly re-fight old wars.

Remembering Vietnam and its aftermath is not justan exercise in ancient history. Because the lessons welearned have value today.

Thousands of visitors come to The Wall to trace withtheir fingers the names inscribed in black granite. Someleave behind gifts such as a photo or a Bible, andconjure in their minds the image of a son, father orfriend who never grew old.

A curious child might see there a fifty-somethingyear old man, missing perhaps an arm or a leg, andask: “Why?” That man will be able to say “Vietnam,”and not mean a desert, but instead a long-fallow field,

SENATOR JOHN KERRY (D-MA) 17

bearing within much sorrow and blood, but readiednow through hard labor and long sacrifice to nourishlife anew.

I have suffered a lot from the physical and emotionalpain. Sometimes I thought I could not live, but Godsaved my life and gave me faith and hope. Even if Icould talk face to face with the pilot who dropped thebombs, I would tell him we cannot change history, butwe should try to do good things for the present andfor the future to promote peace.

Kim PhucExcerpted from her speech at The Wall on Veterans Day, 1996.She is the young girl in Nick Ut’s 1972 Pulitzer Prize winning

photo of civilians fleeing a village destroyed by napalm.

Vietnam: Then, Now and the FutureLt. Gen. Harold G. Moore, USA (Ret.)

Lt. Gen. “Hal” Moore is retired after a successful career as amilitary officer and businessman. He co-authored We WereSoldiers Once and Young, a national bestseller about the Battleof the Ia Drang Valley in 1965.

Sadness, anger and pride hit me when I visit the paradeof the dead on that long black wall in Washington,D.C.

Sadness: Each death a tragic story, a family shatteredwith grief. Anger: Each name a life lost in a noble butfutile cause, doomed from the beginning. Pride: Eachname a person who followed orders and went 12,000miles to serve America in a war which did not havestrong popular support among its citizens or VICTORYas the national objective.

Many years ago Joe Galloway and I shook hands towrite the story of the great American soldiers whofought a savage battle in the Ia Drang Valley inNovember 1965; the first major battle of the AmericanWar in Vietnam. We hoped our book, We Were SoldiersOnce and Young, would help bring honor and respectfor all Americans who served in that tragic war. And itmay have. Now, decades after that last helicopter liftedoff the U.S. Embassy in Saigon, a different attitudetoward the Vietnam veteran has emerged. Where oncethey were disdainfully scorned and ignored, it has nowbecome prestigious to be a Vietnam veteran.

Also a different Vietnam has emerged. Althoughcorruption and Communism exist countrywide and the

LT. GEN. HAROLD G. MOORE, USA (RET.) 19

admin/logistics infrastructure is choked with red tapeand potholes for foreign business, a crude, early formof capitalism has taken firm hold. Five star hotels andhigh-rise office buildings, golf courses, auto dealer-ships in Saigon, Nha Trang, Hanoi, Da Nang havemultiplied. Sidewalk stands and road vendors andshops abound. Hanoi has let the entrepreneurial “genieout of the bottle.” Speculation is rife that when the“old warriors” fade away, there will be more radicalchanges. Indeed Communism in Vietnam may wellbe defeated without another shot being fired.

Teaching the Lessons of VietnamLindy G. Poling

Lindy G. Poling teaches U.S. History and the Lessons of Vietnamelective at Millbrook High School in Raleigh, North Carolina.She was recently recognized as the 2002 Veterans of Foreign WarsNational Citizenship Education Teacher of the Year.

Since I was a child, I have loved the study of history,but as a young teacher I quickly discovered that notall of my students shared my passion. So I beganexperimenting with different methods to make thelearning of history more inviting. One of the mostsuccessful methods has proven to be inviting guestspeakers into the classroom. During the past twelvesemesters, I have been using this instructional approachwhich I call the Community-in-the-Classroom to teacha popular high school elective called the Lessons ofVietnam (LOV). I invite as many as twenty well-informed visitors into our classroom to help studentsinvestigate and better understand what was happening,both at home and abroad, during the Vietnam Era.

Not surprisingly, students are less interested ininstructional strategies that rely on lecture and teacher-directed thinking which often emphasize coverage atthe expense of understanding. Instead of making anunbroken march through the textbook version of whathappened in Vietnam, my students and I delve intothe important ideas and lessons of this historical periodwith a team of volunteer “guest teachers” who workto support the LOV class both inside and outside theclassroom. There is really so much we can learn from

LINDY G. POLING 21

the legacy of this war, and students will learn it betterif we expose them directly to Vietnam veterans, theirspouses, South Vietnamese, war correspondents,people who were active in the U.S peace movementin the 1960’s and 1970’s, authors, clergy, refugees andothers who have an important personal history andassociation with this controversial era.

Whenever people ask me to explain why it is soimportant to have “all these guest speakers” come intothe classroom, I am apt to respond by saying that it issimilar to the strategy of an art history teacher whotakes her students to a museum or art gallery. The mostwell organized lecture on early Italian Renaissancepainters cannot compete with actually seeing themasterpieces of Titian and Leonardo. Like an originalwork of art, guest speakers and their personal storiescan have a similarly captivating, visceral effect onstudents. Students who view history as boring will bedisarmed by the experience of having a Vietnamveteran, like Carl Bimbo, share pictures with the classof his lost buddies. These special visitors will interactwith students, field their questions, challenge theirsuppositions, and sometimes they will even “try outnew ideas.” For example, Brig. Gen. George B. Pricepaused near the end of his presentation to our LOVclass last spring, looked at every student in the roomand said, “Your challenge as Americans is to find theprofits of peace.” Some of the real lessons of Vietnamare lifelong lessons in character development, such asthe courage it took for many returning veterans toovercome an indifferent, if not hostile, Americanpublic.


I also try to identify “learning opportunities” forstudents that go beyond the classroom, such asparticipating in a spring field trip to Washington, D.C.;organizing special dinners for veterans, parents andcommunity leaders; or working on our nationallyrecognized newsletter, Bridges. Students respondenthusiastically to special activities like a newsletter,because they are encouraged to use a variety ofresources, interpret their findings, and write about thelessons they have learned regarding the Vietnamexperience.

I have found that high school students are capableof great initiative, creativity, and amazingly high levelsof “performance” when they are challenged to “thinkoutside the box.” I do not swamp my pupils with amyriad of facts and information about the Vietnam War.And, I do not lecture them on how many Americanswere killed and wounded in Vietnam. Instead, veteranCarl Bimbo tells them at point-blank range in ourclassroom that he lost his best buddy there. Later inthe semester, Carl will accompany us on our LOV classfield trip to Washington, D.C. And there at The Wall,he will hoist a student up on his shoulders to rub thename of his lost buddy. In this way, students come toappreciate that every one of the 58,229 names on thisWall has individual significance . . . And, they want toknow, as do surviving friends and family members,“What for?”

Vietnam: A Journey through the YearsJack Smith

Jack Smith was an ABC News correspondent for 26 years. He isa decorated Vietnam combat veteran, having earned the BronzeStar and Purple Heart. Today, he works for Burson-Marstellerand runs his own media consultancy, the Jack Smith Media Group,in Mill Valley, California.

I fought in the bloodiest battle of the Vietnam War,the Battle of the Ia Drang Valley. On the 17th ofNovember, 1965, a day that is burned into my memory,my battalion (about 500 men) was walking away froma place called “Landing Zone X-Ray” in SouthVietnam’s Central Highlands, a few miles from theCambodian border. Along with other units of the 1stAir Cav Division, we had just fought in a major 3-daybattle there and had decisively defeated 2 regimentsof the North Vietnamese Army.

As we slipped through the jungle into anotherclearing called L-Z Albany, we were jumped by aNorth Vietnamese formation. Like us, about 500-strongand made up mostly of boys 18 or 19 years old. Butthey had been in-country for a year, and so they weregreatly more skilled at fighting and killing. Hearingus coming, they quietly tied themselves up into thetrees, uncoiled bandoleers of ammunition and snuckclose in the chest-high razor grass.

Minutes after the guns opened up, we 500 wereoverwhelmed and fighting for our lives. At one pointin that awful afternoon as my battalion was being cutto pieces, a small group of enemy came upon me, and


thinking I had been killed (I was covered in otherpeople’s blood), proceeded to use me as a sandbag fortheir machine gun. I closed my eyes and pretended tobe dead. I remember the gunner had bony knees thatpressed against my sides. He didn’t discover I wasalive because he was trembling more than I was. Hewas, like me, just a teenager. The gunner began firinginto the remnants of my company. My buddies beganfiring back with rifle grenades. I remember thinking,Oh, my God, if I stand up, the North Vietnamese willkill me, and if I stay lying down my buddies will getme . . . Before I went completely mad, a volley ofgrenades exploded all around and on top of me, killingthe enemy boy and injuring me.

It went on like this all day and much of the night. Iwas wounded twice and thought myself dead. Mycompany suffered 93% casualties. I watched all thefriends I had in the world die. It is not the sort of thingyou forget. The battlefield was covered with blood andit reeked of gunpowder.

This sort of experience leaves scars. I had night-mares, and for years afterwards I was sour on life, byturns angry, cynical and alienated.

Then one day I woke up and saw the world as Ibelieve it really is, a bright and warm place. I lookedafresh at my scars and marveled, not at the frailty ofhuman flesh, my flesh, but at the indomitable strengthof the human spirit. In spite of bullets, in spite of hotmetal fragments, the spirit lives on. This is the miracleof life. Like other Vietnam veterans, I began to put mypersonal hurt behind me and started to examine thewar itself.

JACK SMITH 25

*****When I went back to Vietnam a few years ago I met

Gen. Vo Nguyen Giap, the man who engineered thedefeat of the French at Dien Bien Phu and thencommanded North Vietnamese forces in the war withSouth Vietnam—and us. He conceded that because ofthe Ia Drang his plans to cut Vietnam in half and takethe capital had been delayed ten years. But then, hechuckled, it didn’t make a difference, did it?

We won every battle, but the North Vietnamese inthe end took Saigon. What on earth had we been doingthere? Was all that pain and suffering worth it, or wasit just a terrible waste? This is why Vietnam veteransdon’t really let go, why many can’t get on with theirlives, what sets them apart from veterans of other wars.

In the Gulf War we took 6 months to put half amillion troops into the war zone. In Vietnam, morethan 6 years. We were too timid to carry the fight tothe enemy until the end, and we tried to keep the warcontained to South Vietnam.

The result was that our enemy, a small countrywaging total war—that is, using all its resources—saw a super-power fighting a limited war, andconcluded that if it could just sustain the 10-to-1casualties we were inflicting for a while—after all,North Vietnam produced babies faster than we couldkill its soldiers—then we would tire and leave, and itwould win. Of course, Ho Chi Minh was right. Afterthe Tet Offensive in 1968 we quit and began the longestand bloodiest retreat in U.S. history. Dean Rusk, thethen-Secretary of State, many years later ruefully toldme, “They outlasted us.”


*****Then 8 years ago, came an event that changed me.

An opportunity to go back to Vietnam for ABC. Withten other Ia Drang veterans, I traveled back to thejungle in the Central Highlands and walked the IaDrang battlefield for several days in the company ofsome of the same North Vietnamese we had foughtagainst nearly 30 years earlier. Did I find the answerto my question about the futility of the war? No, Idon’t know if what I and the rest of us did in the warultimately was worth it.

But what I did find surprised me.North Vietnam may have conquered the South, but

it is losing the peace. A country that two decades agohad the 4th strongest army in the world, has squanderedits wealth on quarreling with, and fighting wars against,most of its neighbors and is poor and bankrupt as aresult. In Vietnam today, communism is dying.Unfortunately very slowly. But it is dying. You look atVietnam today with its eager entrepreneurs and itsaging party bosses, and you wonder why they foughtthe war.

More importantly, Vietnam is a country profoundlyat peace. Because the North Vietnamese feel they won,they are not haunted by the same ghosts as we. Thememorials and cemeteries that dot the Vietnamesecountryside, to most people we met, were just artifactsfrom another time. And people could not understandwhat our little group of gray-haired, middle-agedAmericans was doing there, what demons we weretrying to exorcise, because they did not have thosedemons.

JACK SMITH 27

What struck me was the overwhelming peacefulnessof the place, even in the clearing where I had fought. Ibroke down several times. I wanted to bring back someshrapnel, or shell casings, some physical manifestationof the battle to lay at The Wall in Washington . . . underthe black granite of panel number three, where all myarmy buddies’ names are carved, more than 200 ofthem. But, do you know, search as I did, I could notfind any battle debris. The forces of nature had simplyerased it. And where once the grass had been slipperywith blood, there were flowers blooming in that placeof death. It was beautiful and still, and so I pressedsome flowers and brought them back to lay at the footof panel three. That is all that I could find in that jungleclearing that once held terror, and now held beauty.

*****What I discovered with time may seem obvious, but

it had really escaped me all those years on my journeyhome from Vietnam: The war is over. It certainly isfor Vietnam and the Vietnamese. As I said on aNightline broadcast when I came back, “This land isat peace, and so should we be, so should we.” For me,Vietnam has become a place again, not a war, and Ihave begun letting go.

A Memorial of CourageGovernor Jesse Ventura

Governor Ventura served with the U.S Navy as a SEAL for sixyears before being honorably discharged in 1973. A formerprofessional wrestler and actor, he is currently serving his firstterm as the Governor of Minnesota.

The Vietnam Veterans Memorial represents thegreatest thing about this country: freedom. And I’mnot just talking about the political freedom we werefighting for in Southeast Asia. I’m talking about thefreedom to have an opinion and the freedom to expressit.

The Vietnam War was not popular at home in theUnited States, nor was it popular in my home inMinneapolis. My father mistrusted the leaders whogot us into the war, and who kept us in it. My dad hada lot of common sense, a family philosophy I think Ihave proudly carried on. But I believed, and stillbelieve, in standing behind your country and neverholding soldiers responsible for decisions made bypoliticians. So I enlisted in the U.S. Navy. As RayBoehm, the first Navy SEAL, put it when he metPresident John F. Kennedy, “I didn’t vote for you, Mr.President, but I’ll die for you, Mr. President.”

To me, the Memorial in Washington, D.C. standsfor the courage of all the men and women who foughtfor what they believed in—their country. It says thatno matter how you felt about our involvement, thepeople who served, and died, will not be forgotten.

One of my heroes is Muhammad Ali, a man who

GOVERNOR JESSE VENTURA (I-MN) 29

opposed the war but had the courage to stand up forhis own principles. The fact that he is now revered asa true leader says a lot about what this country is about.It’s about the freedom to disagree, to express yourselfand to move on.

That’s what we have done with the Vietnam War.We’ve moved on, but we haven’t forgotten and wenever will. And if you think there’s a chance you’llforget, just stop by The Wall and spend a few minutesthinking about the people who gave their lives becausetheir country asked them to.

Freedom, War and PatriotismCongressman J.C. Watts, Jr. (R-OK)

A 1981 graduate of the University of Oklahoma, CongressmanWatts was quarterback for the Sooners, leading them to twoconsecutive Big Twelve Championships and Orange Bowlvictories. He is currently serving his fourth term representing thefourth district of Oklahoma and second term as the chairman ofthe House Republican Conference.

The images that come to mind when Americans thinkof the Vietnam War are haunting, yet powerful: bombsexploding in the middle of a faraway jungle asAmericans fought an enemy they could not see; bravesoldiers giving their lives for freedom as otherAmericans lined the streets of Washington to protest awar they did not support; presidents struggling andlawmakers making tough decisions that would foreverchange America and the world. Whatever imagesAmericans recall from the 1960s and 1970s, Vietnamis permanently stamped in the minds of a generationand in the history of our nation.

As visitors to the Vietnam Memorial reflect on the58,229 silent names that stare back at them from theblack granite, they are reminded that America willalways step forward for the cause of liberty. Americatook a stand for freedom in Vietnam, and were it notfor that stand, Communism may well have continuedits advances around the world. Instead, we seeCommunism in retreat and liberty’s reach extendedthroughout Eastern Europe and into the former Soviet

CONGRESSMAN J. C. WATTS, JR. (R-OK) 31

Union—and soon we hope to China and Vietnam aswell.

The Cold War—along with its hot spots in Vietnam,Korea and elsewhere—was a fierce competitionbetween two opposing views of the world: one basedon freedom and one based on oppression. In SoutheastAsia, Communist and democratic states were situatedlike a checkerboard with countries opposite in ideologyneighboring one other. For the United States,Communism meant a limit to freedom that allAmericans cherish. If America were to sit back andallow Communism to spread throughout theseSoutheast Asian countries, the world would probablybe a much different place than it is today.

It holds true that more than three million Americansserved in Vietnam, most of whom were young menfighting for their country and the ideals of freedomand patriotism. It is also true that thousands of theseyoung Americans were killed in action—and manymore were injured. The sacrifices of these bravesoldiers will never be forgotten.

Even through all of the controversy, 87 percent ofthe American people hold Vietnam veterans in highesteem. The reverence veterans are given is due to thefact that they were willing to die for our freedom. Theyloved their country and were patriots in the truest senseof the word. The same can be seen in the war onterrorism following the attacks of September 11th,2001. Any country or regime that is a threat to freedomis a threat to the world. This is what we learned fromVietnam.


As I see the names lining the Vietnam VeteransMemorial down the street from the Capitol building, Icannot help but think of the many Americans who gavetheir lives to defend our country and our ideals. I sayto all who fought for freedom in the world: thank you.We are forever indebted to your patriotism andcourage.

A nation’s memory includes both victory and defeat,glory and shame, those events that went right and thosethat went wrong. Sometimes, the memory of an eventremains controversial, inconclusive, a question markon the nation’s mind, a rebuke to the sin of excessivepride.

Vietnam was one of those events.Gen. Alexander M. Haig, Jr.

Excerpted from his Memorial Day speech at The Wallon May 31, 1999.

Those Who Served

I Can’t Remember His NameJ. Craig Venter, Ph.D.

Dr. Venter served in the Navy Medical Corps in DaNang, Vietnamin 1967-1968. In May 1998, he formed Celera GenomicsCorporation. Two years later, the company announced that it hadassembled the entire human genome. Dr. Venter currently servesas Chairman of the not-for-profit The Institute for GenomicResearch.

In 1982 while on a trip to Washington I decided tovisit the newly completed Vietnam Veterans Memorial.It was a visit that so completely overpowered me withdeep emotions that even today I can clearly rememberthe feelings I had standing there that day.

The sheer magnitude of seeing the tens of thousandsof names on that stark, black wall and all that Iassociated with the Vietnam War, from my owninvolvement as corpsman in Da Nang from 1967-1968,to the tragedy it represented for us as a nation, reducedme to uncontrollable tears.

As I searched the names I had a range of emotions.There was happiness of not finding the names ofwartime friends that I had lost contact with when mytour was complete in August 1968 or those that I hadheard had been killed in Vietnam.

I had wonderful thoughts of “How fantastic, Benmust be alive.” At the same time I was overwhelmedby sadness from the flood of memories of seeing thenames of men I had treated as a corpsman and thosethat had died in my presence. Their situations, theextent of their wounds, and in some cases their last


moments came rushing through my brain in anemotional torrent. I searched for other names with thehope that they would spark a faded memory. Oneparticular young man’s death has followed me and hada significant influence on my life since Vietnam.Ironically he is one of the names that I cannot recalleven though I desperately want to so as to add to thedignity of my thoughts of him. If I knew his name Iwould write to his family and let them know the impacttheir son had on me.

It was during the first half of my tour while I wasone of the senior corpsman running the intensive careward at the Navy field hospital just outside Da Nang.The ward was a Quonset hut with about 20 strikerframe beds, the large circular frame beds for turningpatients with spinal injuries.

It was during a typhoon and the floor was completelyflooded so we walked between the beds on planks tostay out of the water as much as possible. Late thatnight a patient was brought over from surgery. He wasa young black man in his late teens or early twentiesand had suffered massive abdominal wounds. Thesurgeon said they did all they could, that it was amazingthat he was even alive, but that he would be dead bymorning so to make him as comfortable as possible.He was coming out of the anesthesia and as heawakened I talked with him for the rest of the night.He was angry that he had been shot and was worriedabout the fate of his fellow soldiers from the attack.

While my memory is somewhat vague after 35 years,I remember that he was from Philadelphia and wantedto live so he could go home and play basketball. I was

DR. J. CRAIG VENTER 37

very impressed with his incredibly strong will and hisengaging personality. I talked all night with him,changed his bandages frequently as he was stillbleeding, and gave him blood and pain medication.

When I went off duty at 7 a.m. he was in stablecondition and sleeping. However, I did not think that Iwould see him alive again. To my amazement andeveryone else’s in the unit he was alive and alert whenI went back on duty at 7 p.m. that evening.

He soon became our favorite patient and we all felta mission to do whatever we could so that he could gohome and play basketball. We could not understandhow he was still living. It was clearly by sheer will.

He was taken back to surgery several times to try tostop the bleeding with only limited success, yet hewould not give up. We all began to believe that hereally might make it by his willpower and desire tolive.

Discussions shifted from a short-term deathwatchto the possibility of a medevac to a better-equippedhospital. He needed to gain some strength to survivethe flight to the Philippines and was with us for over aweek.

To see his strength and positive spirit in anenvironment infused with death and misery on a dailybasis was an inspiration to us all. He flew out a weeklater with a special team from the hospital, but thebleeding never stopped and he died a week later.

After Vietnam I went on to a career in science andmedicine, eventually leading the team who sequencedthe human genome. As a result of this path I am oftenasked to explain the nature of our genetic code and its


meaning for life. It is then that I remember that youngblack soldier whose will overcame his own biology atleast for a brief important period of time and taughtme the true strength of the human spirit.

We stand at the threshold of a new world.With the light hearts of youth, with the

joy of righteousStruggle, we shall plunge into the intangible wilds,Resolving that courage, eagerness and intelligenceThe heritage from a pioneer past shall continue the

Progressive civilization of our America.Admiral Elmo Russell Zumwalt, Jr.

Written when he was 17 years old.He and his two sons served in Vietnam.

Patriotism’s CallCongressman David E. Bonior (D-MI)

Congressman Bonior served 4 years in the Air Force. Hechronicled veterans’ difficult return home by co-authoring a 1984book titled Vietnam Veterans: A History of Neglect. He hasrepresented the tenth district of Michigan since 1977.

Like many Americans of my generation, I grew uplistening to my father tell stories of his service duringWorld War II, of the bonds he formed with his fellowsoldiers and of the challenges he faced as a medicduring the Invasion of Normandy.

By the time I graduated college in 1968, my fatherhad instilled in me a deep understanding of the valueof public service and the honor of fighting for one’scountry. For me, volunteering for military serviceseemed like a natural step to take. I joined the U.S.Air Force and was sent to California to begin myenlistment.

At the time that I joined the Air Force, there werefew men my age who were not serving in the militaryin some way—by choice or by draft. The Vietnam Warwas sending service members overseas by the tens ofthousands. And these men and women were receivinglittle thanks from the American people for the sacrificesthey were making on behalf of their nation. It was adifficult time for our soldiers. They left loved onesbehind, traveled to another world and felt forgottenby their fellow Americans.

I never lost respect for those men and women thatserved in Vietnam. Before my enlistment ended in


1972, I decided that I wanted to continue serving mycountry—and I wanted to fight for better treatmentfor my fellow service members coming home fromthe war. I returned home to Michigan and ran for theState House of Representatives. After serving fouryears there, I was elected to the U.S. House ofRepresentatives in 1976.

Throughout my years in public service, I have cometo value my military service more and more. In theAir Force, we learned the necessity of teamwork, theimportance of discipline and the value of “givingback.” I have returned to these lessons throughout mycareer in Congress. Joining the Air Force is one of thebest decisions I’ve ever made.

I believe that America’s young people should learnthe value of public service—not just by reading aboutthe heroes of the past, but by doing. Our children needto understand that there is honor in public service andthat serving our community is the responsibility ofeach one of us. Through programs like AmeriCorpsand the Peace Corps, through military service, or byvolunteering in their own communities, young peoplecan learn the true meaning of giving back.

The tragic attacks of September 11, 2001—muchlike the attack on Pearl Harbor sixty years earlier—have ushered in a new era for our nation. While thesetragic events will be a lasting memory for our children,our young people are fortunate to grow up in an ageof patriotic strength and national unity.

Since September 11, America has a developed arenewed appreciation for her public servants—ourfirefighters, police officers, elected officials, clergy,

CONGRESSMAN DAVID E. BONIOR (D-MI) 41

teachers and others. We are reminded of the sacrificesthey make to keep us safe, protect our freedom andbetter our lives. And we see in them the gifts of thehuman spirit and the true meaning of courage. It ismy hope that our young people will be inspired bythem and will hear the call to service.

Fortunately, our soldiers who are fighting today’swar on terrorism will know that their nation is proudof them and is praying for their safety. Unlike theirpredecessors who fought during the darkest days ofthe Vietnam War, they will be welcomed home withopen arms by a grateful nation.

I was too young to witness the patriotism of WorldWar II or the parades that welcomed my father home.But I am proud to see my country unite again aroundthe American values of freedom and justice. And I hopeour renewed commitment to volunteerism and servicewill not fade with the coming years, but will endurewith the spirit of our youngest generation. For thebattles for democracy, freedom, and human rights thatare not won on our watch will be their inheritance.For them, we cannot afford to let the call to servicefade.

Rick Rescorla, American HeroJohn Dibble

John Dibble currently practices law in Washington, D.C. wherehe specializes in matters related to national security and foreignpolicy. He served with the U.S. Navy in Vietnam.

I never met Rick Rescorla. The only thing we had incommon was being Vietnam veterans, albeit separatedin our time there by five years. I had read about him inthe book We Were Soldiers Once . . . and Young, butdidn’t remember his name until late October 2001when The Washington Post carried an article about himthat featured his picture as it appeared on the cover ofthe book.

That picture is hard to forget: It shows Rescorla witha heavy beard, days short of a decent night’s sleep,bayonet fixed and a look of absolute, yet calm,determination. In short, it shows the kind of guy youwant around in a really bad situation.

The Post article recounted that Rescorla had diedon September 11 in the collapse of the World TradeCenter, but not before leading 2,700 employees of thebrokerage house Morgan, Stanley, Dean, Witter & Co.to safety. He had gone back into the building to makesure everyone was out just before it collapsed, killinghim.

Upon reading the article, my first reactions were ofsadness and anger. Here was a fellow veteran who,after enduring intense combat in Vietnam, had beenkilled by a senseless act of terrorism. I wanted hiskillers to know that they were cowards and that, had

JOHN DIBBLE 43

they faced him in combat, the outcome would surelyhave been different. Although my thoughts werefocused on the death of this one man, I now know thatI was also feeling the collective rage and frustrationof Vietnam veterans in the aftermath of September 11.

In the weeks that followed the Post article, I talkedto people who had known Rescorla in Vietnam. I re-read We Were Soldiers Once . . . and Young and wasgiven an article about Rescorla that appeared in theFebruary 2002 issue of The New Yorker magazine. Witheach person I talked to and each word I read, my initialfeelings began to change. While still angered by theterrorist attacks and saddened by Rescorla’s death, Ibegan to realize that he epitomized the many selfless,and often unappreciated, contributions of Vietnamveterans to a country that had shunned them when theyreturned from an unpopular war. With that, I becamevery proud of Rick Rescorla.

Rescorla never talked about his time in Vietnam, noteven to his family. He kept his medals in a little box,locked up and out of view. He had never even read thebook that bore his picture on its cover, a book thatrecounted his heroism as a platoon leader in the 2nd

Battalion, 7th Calvary during the seminal battle in theIa Drang Valley.

Even though Rescorla might have wanted to leavehis Vietnam experience behind, there were some thingsnot so easily shed. As Vice President for CorporateSecurity at Morgan Stanley, Rescorla’s instincts, honedby combat, told him that the World Trade Towers werea vulnerable place to house offices. In 1990, he andhis long-time friend Dan Hill, also a Vietnam veteran,


surveyed the buildings and determined that theunguarded underground garage was a logical targetfor a terrorist truck bomb. When Rescorla went to theowners of the Towers and warned them of the threat,they told him it wasn’t his concern and to just worryabout the space occupied by the brokerage firm.Instincts like Rescorla’s aren’t understood orappreciated by people who have never been in harm’sway.

On February 26, 1993, a truck bomb was explodedin the World Trade Center’s underground garage. Ashe would do later, Rescorla oversaw the evacuation ofthe Morgan Stanley offices and went back to makesure everyone had escaped.

Rick Rescorla went to his employers and told themthat the corporate offices should be moved immedi-ately. He and his friend Hill thought the next terroristattack would be with an airplane. Once again, instinctslost out to those who required verifiable facts beforeacting, and the corporate offices remained in the WorldTrade Towers.

Rescorla didn’t leave. Instead, he worked out anevacuation plan for the people at Morgan Stanley andput them through the drill of walking down 44 flightsof stairs, in double rows, several times a year. I amsure that many of those people thought he was over-reacting and perhaps a little over the edge. That’sbecause they didn’t know, couldn’t know, the legacyof his Vietnam experience.

Those who knew Rescorla in Vietnam say that hewas always cool under fire and that remained true onSeptember 11 as he led the employees of Morgan

JOHN DIBBLE 45

Stanley to safety. He sang songs to keep them calm,as he had for his platoon in the Ia Drang Valley, andtold them to be proud that they were Americans. Thenhe went back to make sure no one had been leftbehind . . . the tradition of the 7th Calvary.

Those 2,700 people whose lives were saved didn’tknow at the time just how lucky they were to have aVietnam veteran like Rick Rescorla to lead them tosafety on September 11. They didn’t know that he wasthe kind of guy you want around in a really badsituation.

The Real Badge of CourageLt. Col. Richard J. Gallant, USA (Ret.)

Richard Gallant is Executive Director of the Purple HeartFoundation. He served with the U.S. Army in both the Koreanand Vietnam Wars.

The men and women veterans who are recipients ofthe Purple Heart Medal have given greatly of their lifeto this nation. They have shed blood, lost limbs,eyesight, hearing, and for some, been confined to theinterminable prison of psychological trauma. Theygave their youth, and a quality of their life to an extentthat those who have not been in combat can never fullyrealize. This reflects the “real Red Badge of Courage.”

One individual who recognized this and the heroismthat soldiers perform above and beyond the call of dutywas Gen. George Washington, Commanding Generalof the Colonial Army that fought Great Britain duringthe Revolutionary War and who later became the firstpresident of the United States of America.

During the Revolutionary War the General, wantingto recognize those soldiers who distinguishedthemselves through great fidelity to duty, to the causeof freedom, and liberty, created the Badge of MilitaryMerit. This Badge, in the figure of a heart, was madeof purple cloth and edged with narrow lace or binding.It was to be worn on the left breast of the uniform.The recipients of the Badge of Military Merit were tohave their names recorded in the Book of MilitaryMerit; and the Decoration was to be a permanent one.This according to Gen. Washington’s Memorable

LT. COL. RICHARD J. GALLANT, USA (RET.) 47

General Orders of August 7, 1792. In those GeneralOrders he also stated that . . . . “The road to glory in apatriot army and a free country is thus open to all.”Today, existing records reflect the names of threesoldiers who were presented with this distinctive honor.It is believed that other records were destroyed whenthe British, during the War of 1812, burned andransacked Washington D.C. This Badge of MilitaryMerit became the first Medal of Honor in the world tobe presented to the common soldier and is, today, theoldest medal in the world still awarded.

In 1932, the Purple Heart Medal that we have todaywas created to replicate the honor associated with theoriginal Badge of Merit. It is presented to those whoare wounded or killed in combat against an armedenemy of the United States of America. The PurpleHeart therefore carries in its lineage the history of ourcountry and all of the greatness that is America.

The Purple Heart is the singular military award thatonly an armed enemy of the United States, in combat,causes to be awarded. It requires no written narrativeby anyone to justify the award.

You may be talking to a veteran and never knowthat he or she has been decorated by our governmentwith the Purple Heart because most very seldom talkabout it. They may speak freely about all other aspectsof their service; but if asked, veterans may briefly tellyou that they were wounded.

Still they may not acknowledge that they wereawarded the Purple Heart—the Real Red Badge ofCourage.

Payback TimeJoseph L. Galloway

Joe Galloway spent 22 years as a foreign and war correspondentand bureau chief for United Press International, and nearly 20years as a senior editor and senior writer for U.S. News & WorldReport magazine. He co-authored We Were Soldiers Once andYoung about the Battle of the Ia Drang Valley in 1965 which hasbeen made into a motion picture starring Mel Gibson.

Twenty years gone and still those black polishedgranite slabs with that army of 58,229 names have thepower to move me more than any other work of art ormemorial I have ever seen.

The Vietnam Veterans Memorial has assumed solarge a place in our lives and our hearts that it is hardto remember when it wasn’t there. Because I live inthe Washington, D.C. area, I go there every VeteransDay and Memorial Day, and lots of other days eachyear to pay my respects and talk to old friends whosenames are engraved on the stone.

My wife Karen and I sometimes stop on our wayhome, late at night, and walk down to Panel 3 Eastwhen there is no one around. Even in the darkness wecan find the name of her father, Capt. Thomas C.Metsker, nestled among the 304 other names of menwho died in November, 1965, in the Ia Drang Valley.

We have, over the years, left at Panel 3 East lettersand drawings from our children to their grandfather; acopy of our book, We Were Soldiers Once and Youngwhich tells the stories of the men who fought and diedin the Ia Drang; family photos; once a sprinkling of

JOE GALLOWAY 49

dirt collected from that long-ago battlefield. Alwayswe leave tears for our friends and brothers who areforever young. This is hallowed ground.

Once I thought that time would dim both thememories and the pain that came home from Vietnamwith us. Now I know better. With each passing yearthe pain only grows. When we went to war we wereyoung, some only 18 or 19, and we didn’t fear deathbecause we knew so little about what life had to offer.Now we know what our friends never had the chanceto know—the joy of having children and seeing themgrow, the large and small pleasures of each of the daysof all these years, and the satisfaction of being able togive something back for all we have received.

Now we know the true worth of life, the true cost ofwar and the terrible price paid by those whose namesare on The Wall. It doesn’t make it easier that theseyears have passed; it makes it harder.

Now I understand better the occasional silences ofmy father and ten of my uncles who wore the uniformin World War II, and why they didn’t want to talk aboutwhat they had seen and done. All but one of them aregone now, just as the last of their old comrades arecrossing the river, day by day.

So what do we do about this? We cherish the memoryof our comrades, we grieve for them, and especiallynow in this time of a new threat and a new war wecelebrate everything they stood and died for. My oldfriend Capt. B. T. Collins came home from Nam minusan arm and a leg. B. T.’s gone now but his prescriptionstill rings loud in my ears:


“No whining! No complaining! We are the fortunateones. We survived when so many better men all aroundus gave their precious lives. We owe it to them to liveevery day to its fullest potential and do everything inour power to make this a better world for our havinglived and their having died.”

B.T. was right, and his words are a challenge to allof us to give something back in memory of our friends.It’s payback time!

The Ultimate Roll CallGovernor Tony Knowles

Governor Knowles served three years in the U.S. Army, includingthe 82nd Airborne from 1963–1964, and volunteered for a tour inVietnam from 1964–1965. He is presently serving his second termas Governor of Alaska.

Last summer, I was privileged to address a crowd ofdevoted Alaskans who came to view an extraordinarymemorial. Charged with emotion, the moment wasuplifting because so much healing and reconciling tookplace.

Whether viewing the virtual, traveling or actualMemorial in Washington, D.C., who cannot feel thegreat weight of The Wall with a seemingly countlessnumber of names of the departed etched upon it?

During reflective moments—and on days likeMemorial or Veterans Day—all veterans wonder whywere we spared death or injury and our buddies not?Many died heroically in ground action, on the rivers,and in the air. Some by a sniper’s bullet or a boobytrap, others sedated in a hospital cot or alone on a crustybedroll in a prison camp.

War exacts a terrible price, charged to the dead—and the living who witnessed it—and to their families.No refunds, no credits, no exchanges.

The ones who died are the ones we honor today,and must always remember. Although a young andsparsely populated state at the time, 57 names on TheWall belong to Alaskan men. Two are listed as Missingin Action: Thomas Anderson and Howard Koslosky.


Anderson was in the service around the time I was,and while searching for his name, I, too, felt the powerof The Wall, the strong draw it exerts.

Every person who touches it feels the couragedisplayed by the more than 58,000 young men andwomen whose names appear on it. We must neverforget the departed, nor the living and the families ofboth. They, too, made sacrifices and struggled.

Envision the long list of the names on The Wall asthe ultimate roll call. I imagine that these great soldiers,airmen, sailors, and nurses will answer the call forever.

The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is an enduringreminder of the sacrifices our Armed Forces membersmade to protect our freedom—a sign of respect.

Respect is a curative that allows veterans to returnhome and heal the inner wounds of war—their owninjuries, the anguish of our nation, and the sufferingof their families. Twenty-five plus years after the lastsoldier left Vietnam, there is still reconciling to bedone.

Any Vietnam veteran will tell you this: enduring thehardship of war overseas, and then fighting foracceptance and respect back home, has made it muchmore difficult to put the war behind us. None of uswere able to pick up our lives where we left off.

It has been said, “We honor the dead through theliving.”

The next time you attend a patriotic or veterans event,look at the crowd. There is probably a Vietnam veteransitting or standing not 10 or 15 feet from you. Likelyhe or she is a veteran who helps others who served.

GOVERNOR TONY KNOWLES (D-AK) 53

Their efforts make a difference and so can yours.Take a moment to thank them for fulfilling their

obligation, especially the combat veterans. It’s nevertoo late to say “Welcome home.” Thank all veteransfor carrying out their duty and remember the sacrificesmade by their families.

The Wall has tremendously affected our people andour nation in a number of different ways. It has givento those who lost in Vietnam a beloved son, daughter,or intimate friend, a holy place to pay solemn tributeor to express heartfelt, tearful sorrow.

President Gerald FordExcerpted from Writings on The Wall, 1994.

Grief Denied—A Vietnam Widow’s Story

Pauline Laurent

Pauline Laurent’s husband, Howard E. Querry, is rememberedon Panel 58E, Row 13 of The Wall. The following is the prologueto her book, Grief Denied: A Vietnam Widow’s Story.

It’s a beautiful Sunday afternoon in May—Mother’sDay, 1968. Spring in the Midwest is sprouting withlife and possibility. The peonies are shooting stalksthrough the rich, black soil in the flowerbed. Aftermorning mass at St. Joseph’s, I am sitting in the shadeof the big sycamore in Mom’s backyard.

My husband, Howard, has been in Vietnam sinceMarch. He thought it would be best for me to staywith my parents while he was gone. Princess, our blackGerman shepherd, is my constant companion. She liesat my feet as I glance through the Sunday paper. Inotice wedding announcements, department storesales, ads for restaurants, and upcoming movies.

Nestled in the back pages of a remote section of thepaper, I spot an article about a battle in Vietnam. Iavoid reading about the war, but this article found me.The action described in the article involves Howard’sunit—3rd Battalion, 39th Regiment, 9th InfantryDivision:

War Refugees Are Flooding into Saigon . . . The Command Post is in a Buddhist Pagoda, 20

yards from a tiny Catholic Church, which serves asthe medical aide station. “They hit us hard all last

PAULINE LAURENT 55

night with mortars and rockets,” said Maj. Booras.“Two soldiers from Alpha Company held out during athree-hour attack on a little bridge across a feedercanal. I don’t even know their names but they are upfor the Silver Star. We’ve been lucky so far—only fourkilled and 14 wounded in the battalion.”

Howard is dead. I know it. I don’t know how I know,I just know. I can’t breathe. Tears are coming. I’mtrembling inside and out. Mom comes out into the yardand asks, “What’s wrong?”

I show her the article and whisper, “Howard is dead.”

Three days later—May 15, 1968The potatoes fry in their usual pool of lard, lard

rendered from the hogs my uncles and brothersslaughter every January. Mom stands over the stove,stirring the potatoes and turning the blood sausagefrying in an adjacent skillet.

Princess greets me after I return from my job at ScottAir Force base. My father sits in his favorite chair,watching the evening news and waiting for dinner tobe served.

Something draws me to the front windows. An uglygreen sedan with the words, “U.S. Army” printed onthe side of the door is parked in front of the house.Two men in uniform sit inside the car, looking downat paperwork on their laps.

The room starts spinning, my hearing becomesmuffled, and reality is slipping away from me. Princessbarks as Mom walks to the front window to see what’scausing the commotion.


“They’re coming to tell me he is dead.”“Please God, let him be wounded, not dead,” I say.The men continue to sit in the car. Hours seem to

pass before they get out, straighten their uniforms, andhead toward my door. I put Princess in the basement—she doesn’t welcome strangers. I come back to openthe door and see two men standing before me with thesame terror in their eyes that I’m feeling inside of me.

“Good evening,” they say, as they remove their hats.“We’re looking for Pauline Querry.”

“That’s me.”They look at my protruding abdomen, which holds

my unborn child, and then look at each other in silencethat lingers too long.

“Was he wounded or killed? How bad is it?”More silence. Finally they begin.“We regret to inform you that your husband, Sgt.

Howard E. Querry, was fatally wounded on theafternoon of May 10 by a penetrating missile woundto his right shoulder.”

I’m dizzy. I can’t think straight.“Dead? Is he dead?”They don’t answer me. They just reread their script

as if practicing their lines for a performance they’llgive some day.

“We regret to inform you . . .”The room is spinning. I can’t think, I can’t hear

anything. I’m going to faint. Alone . . . I must be aloneto sort this out. Leave me alone.

Instead, I sit politely as they inform me of all thedetails . . . funeral . . . remains . . . escort . . . militarycemetery . . . medals.

PAULINE LAURENT 57

Finally they gather their papers and leave. I politelyshow them to the door. My parents are hysterical. Mydad weeps, my mom trembles. No sound is comingout—her whole body is shaking in upheaval.

After retrieving my dog, I stagger to my room andshut the door. I throw myself on the bed, gasping forair. My heart races and pounds. My unborn baby startskicking and squirming. I hold my dog with one hand,my baby with the other, and I sob. I’m shattered, blownto pieces. It can’t be true.

No medics come; no helicopters fly me away to anemergency room. I struggle to save myself but I cannot.I die.

Half an hour later, a ghost of my former self gets upoff the bed and begins planning Howard’s funeral.

Mom calls relatives. People come over to consoleme. I just want to be alone. I just want to be alone.

Brown EyesLt. Col. Janis Nark, USAR (Ret.)

Lt. Col. Nark served as a registered nurse with the U.S. Army,including tours in Vietnam and Desert Storm. She is a motivationalspeaker and president of her own apparel company, JJ Snow,Ltd.

One of the most difficult things that I had to do inVietnam was to send someone back into battle. Theseyoung men had seen the face of war, heard thedeafening noise, tasted the fear, had their buddiesblown away, and been wounded. Wounded but not badenough to get their ticket home, and now had to goback to the field.

They always seemed to know when it was coming.As well as I felt I knew my patients, I could neverknow for sure just how they would respond. Somewould just sit there and nod their heads as their eyeslost focus to some distant place in time. Some wouldcry and beg us not to send them back. Some wentAWOL.

He was in his twenties. I have a picture of him, still.He looks like he could be forty. He wasn’t the average1970 GI. He was a soldier, and he took his jobseriously. There was something very strong and quietlypowerful about him. He moved with the grace andstealth of a panther, all of his senses keen, alert, ready,waiting, every muscle in control.

Unlike the “mother” role I took with most of mypatients, I felt very much like a woman with him. Heunearthed in me all the feelings that very early in my

LT. COL. JANIS NARK, USAR (RET.) 59

tour I had learned to suppress. I felt very small andaware of myself. We would talk for hours, sometimesabout the war, but also about so many other things. Ifelt like he knew everything. When he looked at me Ifelt naked, and he was always looking at me.Sometimes I could make him laugh and his brown eyeswould dance. But most times when I looked into hiseyes, it seemed they were bottomless with pain.

I don’t know when the war ended for him. I won’tlook to see if his name is etched in the black granite ofour Wall. I want to believe he lived to earn lots of stripeson his sleeves and lots of ribbons and medals to wearwith his quiet dignity on his chest. I want to believehe’s retired now, fishing somewhere, proud of hisservice to his country. I want to believe that he isphysically healthy and mentally at peace.

I do believe that, even if I hadn’t sent him back, hewould have gone anyway.

Vietnam + 36Brig. Gen. Wilma L. Vaught, USAF (Ret.)

Brig. Gen. Vaught is president of the foundation that maintainsand operates the Women In Military Service For AmericaMemorial, a memorial and education center honoring AmericanServicewomen in Arlington, Virginia. During her Vietnam tour,she was stationed at the Headquarters for Military AssistanceCommand in Saigon.

My first direct involvement with the Vietnam Warwas in 1966 when the bomb wing I was assigned tostarted preparing to deploy to Guam for six months tofly Operation Arc Light missions. I worked with theplanners in setting up schedules for the deploymentof planes, equipment and people.

As the day of deployment approached, my wingcommander asked me to go. I was slated to enter schoolfor my master’s degree but he was so persuasive that Igot my school entry date delayed until the followingyear. In September 1966, I climbed aboard a KC-135tanker for the long flight from Florida to Guam. I wasthe first military woman to ever deploy with a StrategicAir Command bombardment wing on an operationaldeployment.

For six months, it was work seven days a week. Inever knew when I went to work in the morning howmany hours later it would be before I could go home.It was worth it all to go to the flight line and see thebomb-heavy B-52s take off for their 12 hour flightand to see the maintenance personnel and flight crews

BRIG. GEN. WILMA L. VAUGHT, USA (RET.) 61

giving their all, with total dedication, to meet the ever-increasing mission demands.

At the time of my deployment, by law, the numberof women could not exceed two percent of the totalnumber of personnel in the Armed Forces. Womencould not be generals or admirals, fly aircraft or beassigned to ships. On November 8, 1967, the ranklimitations were removed as well as the two percentceiling. In Vietnam at this time, only a handful of non-nurse military women were serving, all hand picked.Despite many seeking to volunteer to go, for militarywomen, it was basically a nurses’ war.

I spent the next 15 months in school as significantchanges were taking place with respect to women.More were being recruited and many of the restrictionswere being removed on the assignment of women toVietnam. As a line officer, I had first-hand knowledgeof this; I graduated with orders in my hand to beassigned to Military Assistance Command, Vietnam(MACV).

The next 12 months were memorable. I was one offour military women assigned to MACV. I wasquartered in a room in a hotel in downtown Saigonnear the Presidential Palace and the central market, afrequent target for terrorist attacks. Again, it was a6-1/2 to 7 day work week, normally from 7 a.m. to 7p.m. Almost every night, we could hear the rumble ofB-52 strikes off in the distance.

As the war came to an end in the early 1970s andthe all-volunteer force concept was implemented,opportunities for women expanded in many ways.Non-traditional fields, such as aircraft maintenance,


were opened to women. Women were in ROTC classesand then at the military academies. By Supreme Courtdecision, benefits and privileges previously availableonly to the spouses of male members were applicableto those of women as well. The first women werepromoted to general officer and flag rank. Women weresoon more routinely considered for positions ofauthority—and responsibility, such as base com-mander. We were permitted to fly non-combat aircraftand assigned to certain combat ships.

Then came Operation Desert Storm and moreprogress. For the first time, our personnel serving inthe theater were routinely referred to as the “men andwomen” serving rather than the “men” or our “boys.”Further, for the first time, as the deployment started,the women were there. They were on the first planesand a few were the pilots of those planes. Women wereon some of the ships, and they were on the grounddoing their jobs as part of their units.

After Desert Storm, two significant legal changeswere made. In 1991, the restriction on assignment ofwomen to aircraft engaged in combat was removedand in 1993, that for combat ships was removed.

Today, we find few restrictions on the assignmentof women with the exception of ground combat unitssuch as infantry, artillery and armor, along withsubmarines and special forces units. We’ve had fourwomen reach the three-star rank and more will comeover time. We’ve come far, very far, in the last 36 years.Nonetheless, much remains to be achieved.

What does the future hold? What factors will affectprogress? First, progress, and sometimes even

BRIG. GEN. WILMA L. VAUGHT, USA (RET.) 63

maintaining the status quo, is very dependent uponthe attitude of those in senior leadership positions, fromthe commander-in-chief down the chain of command.The leadership must be supportive of policies andpractices that give women the opportunity to performwherever they can meet the requirements of theposition or mission. And, as importantly, the womenmust be willing to accept the inherent challenges thatthe tough jobs bring, whether it be the actual demandsof the position or the challenge of meeting family needswhile giving what’s needed in time and energy to thejob. Third, what policy changes are we willing tosupport that will permit couples and single memberparents to contribute to the fullest yet meet familyneeds? And, can we better accommodate conditionsthat impact dual military couples?

As I look to the future, I know that the question ofwomen being accepted as a permanent and valued partof our armed forces has been answered repeatedly.They are a part. Questions and issues continue to beposed as to the rightness of assignment to certain typesof jobs under certain types of conditions, mostcommonly with reference to the combat arena. It hasbeen my experience and observation that emotionrather than fact more often than not is the basis forthese questions and issues. It would be better for thenation if response and resolution also were based onfact.

I remain convinced, however, that, regardless of theissue, reason ultimately will prevail. Where womenshould serve, by virtue of national needs, they willserve just as any citizen should when properly qualified


and trained. The last 36 years have been phenomenal.May the next decades be just as exciting and filledwith as many steps forward.

The Wall is barely visible from the upper floors ofthe State Department, yet it can never be far from thegaze of our diplomats. As Secretary of State, itreminded me that the American people are willing tosacrifice, but their government has the duty to weighits choices carefully and consider the consequencesbefore risking American lives. This is, and must be,the firm conviction of every post-Vietnam Wargeneration.

Former Secretary of State James A. Baker IIIExcerpted from Writings on The Wall, 1994.

What Makes a SEAL—My Perspective

Rear Adm. George R. Worthington, USN (Ret.)

Rear Adm. Worthington, a graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy,is now a businessman consulting in San Diego and followingcurrent naval affairs regarding the War on Terrorism.

U.S. Navy SEAL—”Sea, Air, Land,” the environ-ments they operate in—Teams are descendants of theNavy’s World War II Combat Demolition Units, latercalled Underwater Demolition Teams or “UDTs.”These men were and remain all volunteers forhazardous duty which involves long distance surfaceswimming, free diving to load demolitions on beachobstacles, SCUBA diving with a variety of equipmentand parachuting techniques to insert target areas.

The SEALs become qualified in free fall (“sky-diving”) parachuting. In addition to mobility skills,SEALs learn basic and advanced demolitions andbecome proficient in a variety of small arms weaponsof U.S. and foreign manufacture. They are trained inforeign languages as required by a specific assignment.And, finally, they are trained as “school teachers” sothey may impart their skills to others, normally foreignmilitary personnel.

The crux of an operational SEAL member is hispassing the basic SEAL training in Coronado,California, called BUDS for “Basic UnderwaterDemolition/SEAL” training, a six-month, gruelingcourse often termed the hardest in the U.S. military.


Dedication to completing his mission, whether it’sgetting through BUDS or operating in the field, is thehallmark of the individual SEAL operator. A SEALTeam member will never let down a teammate. Hewill never abandon his “swim buddy,” no matter whatthe consequences. He is a patriot, he is dedicated tothe precepts and principles of the United States, andhe is possessed of a singleness of purpose unique inthe service—often replicated but seldom achieved. TheNavy SEAL will look forward to giving his very bestunder any circumstances. He will accomplish hismission under the most arduous conditions, often atthe cost of his own life. This may be said of otherservices, as well, and many men have receivedposthumous awards for spectacular sacrifice above andbeyond the call of duty. The Navy SEAL seeks toperform “above and beyond the call of duty” on everymission and operation.

A faith in the correctness of his country, thelegitimacy of his superiors, and the faith of theAmerican people come together to produce one of themost dedicated servicemen our country can produce.The old adage “Many are called but few are chosen”rings true in the case of Navy SEALs. The men whosucceed are, truly, “Liberty’s Warriors.” Let FreedomRing!

Descending from the Underwater Demolition Teamsof World War II and Korea, the U.S. Navy SEALs wereestablished in January 1962 by President John F.Kennedy in response to Communist insurgencieswhich were springing up around the world. The SEALTeams participated in the Vietnam Conflict where they

RADM GEORGE R. WORTHINGTON, USN (RET.) 67

operated mainly at platoon and squad strengththroughout the South Vietnam Delta region, south ofSaigon. Operating in the extensive riverine networkof the Delta, SEALs conducted patrol and interdictionoperations against Viet Cong infrastructure andmainline forces. They operated from combatant craftand helicopters, day and night from 1966 to 1971. Inaddition, SEALs carried out an advisory effort thatextended from 1963 to the fall of Saigon in 1975.Throughout the entire conflict, SEAL Teams per-formed at the highest levels expected of them, winningthree Congressional Medals of Honor in addition tonumerous other combat awards.

Several fallen SEALs have their names inscribed onThe Wall in Washington, D.C. Their ultimate sacrificesare a tribute to their love of country and loyalty to theprinciples of freedom. Following Vietnam, SEALTeams have participated in every engagement theUnited States has undertaken, from Grenada, thePanama Canal, the Persian Gulf War, Bosnia, and aretoday involved in Afghanistan. They came of age inthe jungles and swamps of Vietnam and continue toperform Special Operations missions for the countryaround the world, today.

The Wall

We Are All ConnectedSenator Chuck Hagel (R-NE)

Senator Hagel served in Vietnam with his brother Tom in 1968,serving side by side as infantry squad leaders with the U.S. Army’s9th Infantry Division. He was elected U.S. Senator from Nebraskain November 1996 and has served as Deputy Whip for theRepublican Party since that election.

The Vietnam War was a defining moment in Americanhistory. It was a divisive and controversial war on anunconventional battlefield.

Its legacy carries on even today as America continuesto grow and learn from the lessons of Vietnam. Historyholds no clear road map for the future but the VietnamVeterans Memorial helps us better understand thesignificance of the Vietnam War through a tangibleand relevant educational experience. The dark granitepanels covered with more than 58,000 names of thequiet heroes of freedom serve as a symbol of theVietnam War and a reminder that there is a high pricefor liberty.

The American cause in Vietnam was just, althoughthe cost was high. The Vietnam War tested theconfidence of the American people. The Americanpublic and the media questioned the credibility of theAmerican government and military after realizing thegovernment was not accurately portraying Americanperformance in Vietnam.

By the end of the war Americans did not believethat fighting in Vietnam was vital to our nationalsecurity interests. No reason could satisfy the concern


for the high number of American casualties. TheVietnam War continues to serve as one of the lensesthrough which the American public views politics,foreign policy, military engagement, global economics,and social and cultural change. The Vietnam Warhelped Americans realize that we must closely examineour geopolitical position in the world and alwaysconsider the delicate relationships that evolve andchange with each global situation.

Just as The Wall connects its visitors to thecomplexities of the Vietnam War, America continuesto realize the importance and complexities of aninterconnected world. Before the Vietnam War,American policies were often made in a political andgovernmental vacuum. We rarely connected our mostvital policies—national security, trade, energy,economic, diplomatic, health, environment, educa-tion—not only to each other, but to our role andrelationship in our interdependent world. Each nationhas its own intricately woven fabric of history—createdby imperfect threads of politics, geopoliticalplacement, religious and ethnic mixtures, multiplepressures and other variables. Strong, sovereignnations compose a portion of the world’s larger fabricof history. The fabric will only be as strong as thethreads of history intertwined by each nation. Thisrequires accepting the reality that the world is, hasbeen, and increases to be interconnected in every way.All six billion people living on the face of the earthare linked through and by telecommunications, worldinstitutions, markets, energy, food, health, immi-gration, education and the environment. The Vietnam

SENATOR CHUCK HAGEL (R-NE) 73

War made it clear that global conflict involves manyinternational stakeholders. We carry this lesson withus today in the War on Terrorism. Our political,diplomatic, military, economic and national securitystrategies now realize the necessity for multilateralparticipation. Our nation’s strength depends on amutual and positive relationship with the rest of theworld.

Like the veterans honored there, The Wall servesour country well. It continues to serve as a dynamicway of educating those who did not experienceVietnam. It also comforts those with personalconnections to the war. Most of the visitors to theVietnam Veterans Memorial are younger than The Wallitself. Future generations of Americans need to knowthe meaning of patriotic service and the importanceof global cooperation. I am proud to have led the effortto create an education center at The Wall. Theeducation center will help provide a richer under-standing of the greater context of the Vietnam Warand the relevance of The Wall. It is important for allAmericans to understand that, as The Wall grows olderand the Vietnam War creeps into the annals of history,the granite wall of names stands still in time to serveas a reminder that freedom is not free. We must bearthe deep scars of war and understand its lesson to moveforward in confidence that the American spirit ofliberty will remain strong and resolute under anycircumstance.

The Wall and ILt. Col. Frank L. Bosch, USAF (Ret.)

Lt. Col. Bosch flew combat missions in WWII, Korea and Vietnam.He has volunteered at The Wall since February 1983. His cousin,Michael O’Keefe is remembered on Panel 18E, Line 115 of theMemorial.

It seems like yesterday that I first saw the Memorial.It was a rainy day two days before the officialdedication. I was urged to go visit the Memorial thenbecause I was leaving the area to visit my eldestdaughter who was up in Maine at the time.

My wife, Mardy, kept insisting that I make the visitbecause she knew that I had several reservations aboutThe Wall (i.e. not liking the color of the stone, TheWall being below ground level and the listing of thenames). It was a case of just being ornery. She finallyforced me to make the very short trip to the Mall andtake a look at this memorial that I did not care for. Iapproached The Wall from the east and saw a younglady with a large book in her hands which I soondiscovered was a directory.

She asked me if I knew anyone on The Wall and Igave her the name of one of my close friends who wasshot down on Mother’s Day 1968. To our amazementwe were standing right in front of his name.

A change took place and I took time to look up someothers and all of my not too friendly feelings aboutthe Memorial disappeared. As I went from name toname it became obvious to me that the placement ofthe names was better than any other method. The

FRANK BOSCH 75

chronological listing gave each of them their ownindividual space in time. It eliminated the possibilityof locating the wrong person when there are likenames.

I watched the dedication ceremonies from NewEngland and saw something else that bothered me. Somany of those who were in attendance were shaggybearded types and very unkempt looking individuals.Granted we all were rather raunchy looking while outin the field. But when we returned to the “world” ourpride prevented us from looking like the people I sawrepresenting me. So, once again Mardy jumped in andgot me into the act. Her comments were very simple.“Go become a volunteer and show the visitors that allVietnam vets are not shaggy and unkempt.” The restis history; I am working on my 20th year as a volunteer.

My selected day to serve is Wednesday 0800 to Noonbecause I meet more people on an individual basisand can give each visitor more time. That time alsoaffords me time for personal and uninterruptedreflection on my friends and one relative on The Wall.As a retired USAF Officer who served 34 years andflew during three wars, I have a mixture of peoplewhom I know. They are all different and some I knewvery closely and others were members of my squadron.Some I knew as children who went to school with mychildren. A good mixture.

The Wednesday mornings are sometimes void of allpeople. No visitors, workers, joggers and volunteers(except for myself). This affords me an opportunity tobe with those on The Wall without any interruptions. Itake full advantage of these rare moments to say


“Hello” and offer a silent prayer. These moments donot last long because they are interrupted by passingairliners or the onset of groups of tourists, but they areprecious moments while they last.

As millions of Americans come to Washington eachyear to tour the Nation’s Capital, I am pleased thatthe Vietnam Veterans Memorial has become anessential stop for most visitors. It is a moving sight, amoving tribute and a moving force behind America’snewfound respect and admiration for every single manand woman who served so honorably in SoutheastAsia.

Senator Bob DoleExcerpted from Writings on The Wall, 1994.

Sons and Daughters In TouchTony Cordero

Tony Cordero serves as president of Sons and Daughters In Touch,an organization which provides support to sons and daughters ofthose who died or remain missing as a result of the Vietnam War.His father, Maj. William E. Cordero, is remembered on Panel 2E,Row 15 of The Wall.

From end to end, the Vietnam Veterans Memorialstretches its arms to embrace visitors and veterans whocome to pay tribute, remember fallen friends and tolearn about the legacy of war. For 20 years it has stoodas a testament to duty, honor, sacrifice . . . andfatherhood.

In 1990, it was my privilege to be cast as theunwitting founder of Sons and Daughters In Touch(SDIT)—an organization created to locate, unite andprovide support to those who lost their fathers in theVietnam War. Unprecedented in history, never beforehad there been an organization through which thechildren of American servicemen lost in war couldgather, speak from the heart, and be truly understood.

There was no database to reference or public recordsthat would tell just how many of ‘us’ there actuallywere. Instead, SDIT relied on grass roots efforts, helpfrom veterans, the media and word of mouth to findmore than 3,000 of these ‘sons and daughters’.

Though our formal organization was in its infancystages, we had a central rallying point. That unifyingsymbol and hallowed ground that would give meaningto us all was, and is the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.


On a hot Sunday in June 1992, SDIT brought itsmembers together to celebrate a most unique Father’sDay. Ending years of waiting, many were finally ableto see their dad’s name inscribed on The Wall and tomeet others who shared the same loss and understoodthe pain of this experience.

During the last decade, this national Father’s Daycelebration was repeated on three other occasions. Indoing so, SDIT helped launch a long-overdue healingprocess that is buoyed by the resilient power of thehuman spirit. A symbol of that resilient power willcome with our 2003 trip to Vietnam—the land whereour fathers fought and died.

Now, in late-night solitude or by washing The Wallon an early Saturday morning; whether alone or witha group of other ‘sons and daughters’—a visit to theVietnam Veterans Memorial has become akin to leafingthrough the pages of our family tree.

From end to end, on every panel I see their names . . .“I know that man’s sons—all of them.”“Over here—he just became a grandfather.”“There, on that panel—his daughter—the one he

hardly knew—was just married. ““And sadly, up near the top of 2E . . . his son has

gone to heaven to be with him again.”

*****The legacy of SDIT is found in the answer to the

visitors’ question as they slowly shuffle past theVietnam Veterans Memorial: “Who were all thesemen?”

“They were our fathers.”

A Visit to The WallCharlie Harootunian

Charlie Harootunian has been volunteering at The Wall since1986. He was a lieutenant in the Army Engineers and served inVietnam from March 1967 through March 1968 based out ofPleiku.

Every day spent volunteering at The Wall has providedspecial moments with either “first time” Vietnamveterans or with family members of those on The Wall.

One which I will never forget occurred a few yearsago in early May. I happened to be at The Wall alonewith no other volunteers or National Park Servicerangers. I was answering questions for a group ofvisitors when I noticed a group of two elderly menand three women waiting patiently for my attention. Iapproached them and asked if I could be of assistance.They said that they wanted to find someone on TheWall.

I looked through the directory and then took themto the panel and pointed to the person’s location. As Idid, one of the women became quite upset and thetwo men each held an arm supporting her. I steppedback and said to the two gentlemen, “That’s her son,isn’t it.”

They said yes. They had driven to D.C. from Floridajust so she could see her son’s name on The Wall. Shehad never been there and probably would never havethe chance to return.

I went on and helped others but kept the “Mom” inmy sight. I felt that since this was her one and only


trip to The Wall, there had to be something I could sayto her. After visiting her son, the five visitors wentand sat on the benches at the west end of The Wallsince it was quite a warm day. I approached the “Mom”and said something innocuous about the warm weather.Then I started to tell her that in all the years I had beena volunteer, I had witnessed veterans by the thousandswho constantly come to The Wall to visit their buddieswho they served with. That those on The Wall are notforgotten and we remember them often even whenwe’re not at The Wall.

She stood up and hugged me, crying and saying,“Thank you, thank you” after every statement I made.I told her that even though her son had died over 25years ago, he was not forgotten by the men with whomhe had served. I also told her that we other Vietnamveterans could never replace her son but we were heradopted sons and to never forget that.

We hugged for awhile as I looked at the twogentlemen who were wiping their eyes. I thanked themfor being such good friends for bringing her to D.C.to visit her son. We spoke a while longer and then Iwished her and her friends a safe journey back toFlorida.

As I returned to The Wall, I thanked God for givingme that time with her. I hope it helped her. She meanta lot to me.

Healing in Lost AlamosHeather Hull

Heather is a student at the University of Colorado. She receivedthe Girl Scout’s highest award, the Gold Award, for bringing TheWall That Heals traveling replica and museum to her hometown.

In September 2000, as a senior in high school, Irealized a dream: earning my Gold Award, the highesthonor given in Girl Scouts, by bringing The Wall ThatHeals, the half-scale traveling exhibit of the VietnamVeterans Memorial, to my hometown of Los Alamos,New Mexico.

Even after three years of planning, 29 publicspeaking engagements, and countless committeemeetings, I still could never have imagined the extentof the rewarding and humbling experiences that laybefore me.

No one could ever have known, either, that just threemonths before the Memorial arrived, our smallcommunity would suffer the devastating effects of theCerro Grande fire, losing 400 homes to the unstoppableblaze and 43,000 acres of forest land. It would be atime of desperate need for healing losses of so manykinds.

As more than 14,000 visitors, including 2,500 schoolchildren, paid tribute to the veterans of the VietnamWar during the memorial’s stay, many veteransexpressed their feelings to me in person and by mail.In one particularly moving encounter, a man inmotorcycle gear with a weathered face, ponytail andbandanna, knelt at my feet, kissed my hand and


whispered, “I’m a Vietnam veteran, too.” Anotheroffered, “I didn’t cry when my house burned down,but I wept when I saw The Wall.”

Among the letters I received, one veteran wrote,“There were three really big men wearing Armysurplus clothing . . . really big, tough guys andsounding like it. Just past midway [along The Wall], Ipassed those three guys standing together softlyweeping . . . . Your generation probably hasn’t heardmuch about Vietnam from the men who went there.War is not something to talk about much. You have toget it from watching those three big, tough menstanding by The Wall softly weeping 25 to 30 yearsafter they were there.”

A veteran who served five combat tours of duty inVietnam wrote, “Several of my friends were killed inaction . . . . I am confident that they are aware of whatyou have accomplished. Even though they are unableto personally thank you for your efforts on their behalf,the honor of thanking you remains the privilege ofthose who survived.”

Another veteran wrote, “I felt as though The Walland activities surrounding its arrival were my welcomehome parade. It is great to finally feel appreciated andto see that people recognize the efforts and sacrificesmade during that period of time by soldiers whobelieved that they were doing the right thing andanswering their call to duty . . . . Thanks for theparade.”

A very moving letter was sent to me anonymously.It reads, “When I first heard that a miniature replicawould be displayed here, I was overcome by familiar

HEATHER HULL 83

feelings that I have been living with for more than 30years—feelings of deep regret, anger, and at times,complete despair when confronted by yet anotheroccasion calling for the remembrance of Vietnam. Ifelt that I had spent enough sleepless nights trying todeal with myriad emotions stirred by memories ofthose terrible times.

When The Wall arrived, I was unable to bring myselfto confront the enormity of the numbers of namesinscribed on the panels. Over a period of several days,I ventured to the field late at night, but couldn’t forcemyself into their presence. Finally after standing onthe sidewalk outside the enclosure again late one night,I was able on my third attempt to push past my owndemons and stand before the names.

I stood there in the darkened field, finally acknowl-edging the dead of my generation and wept . . . .Perhaps some day in the future I can find the courageto walk along each panel, read the names and finallyput Vietnam to rest.

I cannot begin to tell you how cathartic thatexperience was for me and how deeply grateful I amto you . . . . I shall remain yours, a brother in arms.”

Finally, a fifth-grader from a local elementary wroteto me following his visit to The Wall That Heals. Hiswords best describe my own feelings. He wrote, “Ididn’t know anybody who died in Vietnam, but I don’twant to. It must be hard going through all the nameslooking for someone you love. When I was there, Iwas looking at all the names, saying to myself, ‘That’stoo many. How can so many people die?’”

And so, as it has done in more than 100 other


communities, The Wall That Heals brought its messageof healing, both powerful and tender, to the remotemesas of northern New Mexico, reminding us onceagain of the significance the Vietnam War continuesto hold in the hearts of the American people.

Those who fought in Vietnam are part of us, part ofour history. They reflected the best in us. No numberof wreaths, no amount of music and memorializingwill ever do them justice. But it is good for us that wehonor them and their sacrifice. And it’s good that wedo it in the reflected glow of the enduring symbols ofour Republic.

President Ronald ReaganExcerpted from his speech at the Vietnam Veterans

Memorial Conveyance Ceremony on November 11, 1984.

The War, The Wall andan Elusive Dream

Stanley Karnow

Stanley Karnow covered the Vietnam War from 1959 until itsconclusion in 1975 for Time, the London Observer, NBC-TV,the Saturday Evening Post, the New Republic and The WashingtonPost. He is the author of Vietnam: A History and winner of thePulitzer Prize in History in 1990.

By chance I was in Saigon in July 1959 as acorrespondent for Time when I heard that two U.S.military advisers had been killed at Bien Hoa, a SouthVietnamese army camp about 25 miles north of thecity. I quickly drove to the base through the torridtropical heat, gathered the details and wrote a reportof the incident. It earned only a couple of paragraphsin the magazine—all the minor event deserved.

But, looking back, it was far more significant than Iimagined it then. I had witnessed the opening shot ofa war that would drag on for the next 14 years—thelongest in our history and our only defeat. Nor did Ienvision that the names of the slain men, Maj. DaleBuis and MSgt. Chester Ovnand, would ultimatelyhead the roster of more than 58,000 others engravedon the poignant Memorial Wall in Washington.

Perhaps those heroes would be forgotten if The Wallhad not been built. The struggle, the most divisive sincethe Civil War, ripped the country apart. Returningveterans were often castigated by supporters of theconflict for its failures, or vilified by its critics ofcommitting atrocities. The accusations were despic-


able. The troops who fought and died in Vietnam werenot responsible for the involvement in Southeast Asia.The architects of the venture were politicians andsenior officials, some of whom have conceded that itwas a mistake.

The Wall has dramatically changed public opinion.Since its construction, Americans of widely divergentviews have come to the realization that the servicemenwere fulfilling their duty. This reassessment is mirroredin the fact that the monument is the most visited in thenation’s capital. So it stands as a vivid symbol of bothunity and redemption. Vietnam is behind us, but itreminds us of one of the most tragic experiences inour country’s history.

To their credit, its founders and patrons are nowengaged in several ambitious projects that reachbeyond the monument itself. One of the most importantis the effort to educate young Americans on the war.Teachers have been provided with curriculums andother materials that will enable them to instruct theirstudents, either directly or through the Internet. Theresponse to the program has been overwhelminglypositive, and I am proud of the role I played in itsformulation.

Still another endeavor designed to heal the woundsof the war has been to assist Vietnam to recover fromthe conflagration. Jan Scruggs, the veteran whoconceived The Wall, has gone back there on numerousoccasions to deal with the problem of landmines,which continue to claim the lives of many Vietnamese.

In April 2000, showing the same spirit of recon-ciliation, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial’s Corporate

STANLEY KARNOW 87

Council visited Vietnam to present computers to itsschools. I accompanied the group, and we wereeffusively welcomed—an indication that the Viet-namese are seeking to improve their relationship withthe United States. This is especially true of youngVietnamese.

A number of veterans in the past revisited theirbattlefields and met with their former adversaries. Theencounters between old soldiers were cordial, evenemotional—another sign that the war has receded intothe past.

I delivered a lecture on the war to a class of studentsat the University of Hanoi, and found that I had chosenthe wrong subject. They were extremely polite, but Isensed that they would have preferred to hear me talkabout topics like American pop culture, high tech, theeconomy and how they might obtain scholarships tothe United States. Thus they also want to put theconflict behind them.

The Wall was originally intended to commemoratethe dead, and has succeeded admirably. But it iscurrently transcending that function to become aninstrument of goodwill and that elusive dream—peaceon earth.

Memorial in Silence at The WallSenator Edward M. Kennedy (D-MA)

Senator Kennedy has represented Massachusetts in the U.S. Senatefor 37 years. He was elected in 1962 to finish the term of hisbrother, President John F. Kennedy. Since then, he has been re-elected to six full terms and is now the third most senior memberof the Senate.

Each time I walk past The Wall the silence isdeafening. Names remind me of men and women whoserved their nation with pride, honor and withoutquestion. Thoughts of innocence and lives lost entermy mind and linger there. The visions of our brothersand sisters who have fallen pass my mind’s eye. Thedepth of their devotion and conviction to this nation isas etched in history as their names are in this stone.

There is something about The Wall that holds speechat bay, even children fall silent as they walk past TheWall with older relatives. It seems only those who knewsomeone remembered here can find the words to utter,although more often the words come in the form oftears or a touch to the cold stone that now serves as areminder of the sacrifice of thousands.

Personal items are left by the loved ones of thosewho didn’t return, at the base of The Wall as aremembrance. On any given day you may find flowersfor a husband who is gone, a picture of a daughterwho can no longer be held, or a letter for a friend whocannot be called. These mementos left behind offer asense of mourning and healing for those who knewthem and those who honor them.

SENATOR TED KENNEDY (D-MA) 89

Visiting The Wall is an experience that cannot beadequately conveyed through words. It is a memorialthat must be visited. The sheer volume of names etchedinto that granite serves as an everlasting reminder ofthe lessons and sacrifices that came at too great a price.

The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is a physical symbolof freedom, an educational experience for futuregenerations and a poignant tribute to the men andwomen who sacrificed their lives for us.

Walking into the grassy site contained by the wallsof this memorial, we can barely make out the carvednames upon the memorial’s walls. These names,seemingly infinite in number, convey the sense ofoverwhelming numbers, while unifying these individ-uals into a whole. For this memorial is meant not as amonument to the individual, but rather is a memorialto the men and women who died during this war, as awhole.

Maya Ying LinExcerpted from her statement that was submitted with

her entry for the Memorial’s design competition.She was a 21-year-old architecture student at the time.

The Wall: A National ShrineMary Matalin

Mary Matalin currently serves as an advisor on political andpublic affairs issues. Her husband James Carville, also a well-known political consultant, is a Vietnam-era veteran.

A nation reveals its character by those it chooses tohonor. Twenty years ago, America made a statementabout its future by honoring those who made adifference in our past—the veterans of the VietnamWar.

For too long, these heroes who fought to stop thespread of communism were denied their rightful placeof honor. These were the men and women who worethe uniform, bore the burden, and paid the price. Yetthe stories of their acts of courage were seldom heard;the pages in their chapter of the story of freedom werenever read.

And then came The Wall.No longer would Washington look the other way.

No more would the stories of Vietnam veterans gountold, unheard, or unnoticed. Now and forever,Americans can see for themselves the sacrifice . . . andthe service; the commitment . . . and the courage; thepurpose . . . and the patriotism that was the Vietnamveteran.

No trip to the Washington Mall is complete withoutpaying a visit to The Wall. And no visit to The Wallcan be made without realizing how precious freedomis. We can’t forget. We won’t forget. The Wall won’tlet us.

MARY MATALIN 91

We see their names . . . and we think of their stories.We look for those we might have known . . . andwonder about those they left behind.

The Wall has become a national shrine where we goto offer thanks. The tears, the flowers, the notes . . .these are all symbols of a grateful nation; a communionof the living and the dead, between those of us whohave been blessed and those who have blessed us.

And so the patriotism of the Vietnam veterans willnever be forgotten. In the fields and jungles ofSoutheast Asia, many Americans were lost. But theirimpact will never be lost on us. For they did not die invain. Freedom is winning its worldwide struggle withoppression and tyranny. And the Vietnam veteranswere Freedom’s leaders and heroes. We will neverforget them . . . as long as there is The Wall . . . aslong as there is freedom. May God bless their memory.And may God bless America now and forever.

The Wall: An Educational ExperienceJames Percoco

James Percoco teaches history at West Springfield High Schoolin Springfield, Virginia. He was selected for the first USA TodayAll-USA Teacher Team in 1998 and named Outstanding SocialStudies Teacher of the Year at the 1993 Walt Disney CompanyAmerican Teacher Awards. He is the author of A Passion for thePast and Divided We Stand.

The Vietnam Veterans Memorial has often struck meon rainy days. On these days it appears as if the nameson The Wall are weeping as water runs over the surfaceof the black granite. There is a kind of power in thisunique memorial on the Mall.

At their best, public monuments and memorialsshould instruct. They should hearken to us to pauseand reflect about the person or event that theycommemorate and honor. In this vein I have found theVietnam Veterans Memorial as a strong ally in helpingstudents of today understand the Vietnam War and itscomplexity and to place that event within the contextof 20th century American history. While The Wall issimple, the story of America’s role in Vietnam is not.

When I first started teaching in 1980, I could askmy students to raise their hands and tell me how manyof their fathers saw duty in Vietnam. Many handswould go up. Now when I raise the question theresponse returns more often than not, “My grandfatherserved in Vietnam.” To the students in my classes todayVietnam is “ancient history.” Yet to those of us whowere alive during the war it seems as if it was just

JAMES PERCOCO 93

yesterday. Given the chasm of time between theVietnam War and the present I have discovered thatteaching about the Vietnam War and the Memorialraised on the Mall in 1982 provides a solid historicalperspective to the war itself and public memory ingeneral.

In utilizing The Wall as a device for instruction Ihave had students choose a name from The Wall,complete a rubbing of that name, and then by virtueof thevirtualwall.org have had these students researchthese individuals. Students have reported that focusingon a name provided a more personal learningexperience. The vast majority of students saysomething akin to, “Having researched my personmade the war seem very real. Instead of looking at allthose names and getting lost I could touch somebody’slife.”

By putting a personal face on an event which hadfar too many impersonal sides, students are able torecognize the impact this war had on families and lovedones. In a way they become spiritually connected tothat person and thereby can tap into an aspect of recenthistory that no textbook, lecture, or Hollywood moviecan provide.

In studying the story behind the creation of The Walland all that that tale involved, students are able torecognize the power of monumental architecture andhow public memory is retained and shaped by allmanner of forces. Students come to recognize thatconsensus is often a commodity not easily achieved,particularly in a democracy. While debate andcontroversy rage, what is important is that we have


the debate. Without the debate, the sacrifices so manyAmericans have made in the history of our Republicwould be for naught. Some may feel uncomfortablewith controversy and all that controversy brings to theforefront, but it is, I believe, better to have a publicdiscussion and discourse, no matter how rancorous orsensitive, than to let something as important as theVietnam Veterans Memorial or any memorial to ourwar dead be decided unilaterally. In this context,students learn the awesome power of voice and whythat voice is important to defend.

How The Wall Helped America HealThe Honorable Anthony J. Principi

Secretary Principi was nominated to be Secretary of VeteransAffairs by President George W. Bush on December 29, 2000. Hegraduated from the U.S. Naval Academy in 1967 and commandeda River Patrol Unit in the Mekong Delta during the Vietnam War.

On July 20, 1969, the day Neil Armstrong set foot onthe moon in the name of all mankind, I was standingdrenched in the blood of my brothers-in-arms in theMekong Delta. A firefight earlier that day had left manyAmericans dead, dying or wounded, and as I helpedlift their bodies onto evacuation helicopters, I felt thefrustration, anguish and sorrow of the terrible loss oflife. The blood of my comrades flowed like a crimsonriver of honor, and not one of us who experienced suchmoments in Vietnam can ever forget those men, norcan we ignore the effects their sacrifices had on ourlives.

For combatants, fighting a war is all about themoment and surviving moment-to-moment. There isno time to philosophize, there is no time to ponder thesignificance of politics or social commentary half aworld away; there is no time to dwell on the unintendedconsequences of orders or actions. In Vietnam, Ilearned quickly that duty in the heat of battle is noteven a matter of do or die—it is all too often both.

As soldiers, sailors, Marines, airmen and Coast-guardsmen immersed in the heart of the war, there wasno way we could predict, much less deflect, the mostsignificant unintended consequence of Vietnam: the


wounding of American society as pro- or anti-warfactions battled literally and figuratively in our streets,schools, halls of government, and homes.

The wounds of war cut across those who are sent tofight and the nations that send them. The cuts ofVietnam were deep across America; each of America’s58,229 deaths tore through the fabric of our society,not only rending to tatters the trust between govern-ment and the people, but also scoring divisions amongfriends and neighbors and severing the ties betweenparents and children.

How does a society heal the pain of such traumaticand self-inflicted wounds? For many people, theVietnam Veterans Memorial—The Wall—offers a verypowerful description.

Descending along The Wall’s path, we are swept intothe heart of a chorus of 58,229 men and women whosecollective voices overwhelm us with their sacrifices.Composed before us on a staff of polished stone, oneby one, then in twos and threes, then in tens and thenin the hundreds, the names—like notes—wash overus, resonate within us, and, ultimately, heal us.

It is a painful process, this healing. Faced with thethousands of names of citizen-soldiers we will neverknow, we are struck silent by the sheer numbers ofour dead. Our wounds are opened and we weep forthose who will not walk with us again. When a nameon The Wall is familiar—or when a name on The Wallis our own family—the ache is almost unbearable.

To touch the mirrored surface of black stone is totouch not only the names, but ourselves, as well, inthe reflection. In that instant, we and they are joined

THE HONORABLE ANTHONY J. PRINCIPI 97

on The Wall, connected to a past we cannot reclaim,from a future they cannot gain. For many Americanswho visit The Wall, this moment of touching . . . thisconnection across time . . . draws out the pain of lossand instills a commitment to redeem the sacrifices ofthose who gave their lives in Vietnam.

In the touching, we are given a healing mission tomake real the dreams of 58,229 Americans who wantednothing more than to live in peace.

The ascent from the center of The Wall takes ustoward those dreams, lifts us beyond our daily toils,and inspires us to honor our fallen heroes’ last requests.When we meet their expectations—when we arrive ata world where war is no more, where tyranny and terrorcannot even be found in dictionaries, then the healingwill be complete.

Juan’s QuestRon Worstell

Ron Worstell has been a volunteer at the Vietnam VeteransMemorial since 2000. He served as a Light Weapons Infantrymanand RTO from September 1968 through May 1969 with the 1stBn./ 18th Infantry 1st Infantry Division in Vietnam. He has beenemployed 25 years by Fujitsu Transactions Solutions, Inc.

I have been a visitor to the Vietnam Veterans Memorialmany times over the past 20 years, but only within thepast couple of years have I become a volunteer. Eachtime I volunteer at the Memorial I have an experiencewith a visitor that makes all of my time and effort verymeaningful for me. I would like to share one of theseexperiences with you.

It was Sunday evening, about 07:00 PM, ofMemorial Day weekend 2000. I was returning to theMemorial from the Park Service Kiosk with freshsupplies of rubbing papers and brochures. As Iapproached the flagpole, I overheard a teacher tellinghis group of 20 middle school students, “This isMemorial Day weekend and you will see a lot ofveterans here today paying respect to their fallenbrothers. You will recognize them by their hats andpins. I want you to go up to them—Shake their hand—Tell them THANK YOU—and Welcome home.” Thestudents immediately took off in all directions.

As I approached the entrance walkway to theMemorial, a young boy of 14 came up to me and askedme if I was a veteran. I replied that I was. He lookedme in the eye, shook my hand, told me thank you, and

RON WORSTELL 99

welcome home. I smiled at the young man and saidthank you. The young man then proceeded to give mea hug and began to sob on my shoulder. I just huggedhim and choked back my own tears for what seemedlike a long time.

A few moments had passed and the boy’s teachercame up to us and said to his student. “Juan, look athis hat. He is a volunteer. I bet he can help you withyour mission.” Juan told me how his middle school,from California, had planned this trip to Washington,D.C. and they were to visit the Vietnam VeteransMemorial.

Juan told his parents about the trip and his fathergave him an assignment. “You have 5 uncles andcousins whose names are on that Memorial. We havenever been to Washington to see it. You must make arubbing of each of their names for your family.” Juanshowed me a slip of paper with 5 names, all with thelast name of Zamora.

Juan and I spent the next hour looking for the namesand making rubbings of each one. When we finishedwith the last name, Juan shook my hand again—saidThank You—gave me a hug and sobbed on myshoulder once more.

The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is a special place—a healing place. I have been truly blessed and privilegedto be a part of it.

VIETNAM VETERANSMEMORIAL FUND

Established in 1979, the Vietnam Veterans MemorialFund is the non-profit organization authorized byCongress to build the Vietnam Veterans Memorial inWashington, D.C. Today, it works to preserve thelegacy of The Wall, to promote healing and to educateabout the impact of the Vietnam War through thefollowing programs:

Ceremonies at The Wall are held each year onMemorial Day and Veterans Day to remember andto honor those Americans who served in the ArmedForces. The Memorial Fund also holds ceremoniesto honor veterans and their families on Mother’s Day,Father’s Day and during the winter holidays.

In Memory honors those who served in Vietnam anddied prematurely, but whose deaths do not fit theparameters for inclusion on The Wall. A specialceremony is held on the third Monday of April eachyear.

The Wall That Heals brings the healing power ofThe Wall to cities and hometowns across America.The traveling half-scale replica of The Wall isaccompanied by a traveling museum about theVietnam War era and The Wall.

Echoes From The Wall is a curriculum kit sent freeof charge to every middle and high school inAmerica. It provides students not only with historicalinformation about the Vietnam War, but also withan understanding of leadership, citizenship,patriotism and character.

Echoes From The Mall is a field trip guide intendedto help teachers interpret the Vietnam VeteransMemorial for their students. A wide variety ofsuggested on-site and classroom activities offereducators a framework for exploring all elementsof the Memorial.

The Legacy of The Wall is a traveling storyboardthat addresses several different aspects of theVietnam War and the Memorial, including U.S.involvement in Vietnam, events on the homefront,the history of The Wall and how America honorsveterans.

Teach Vietnam Teachers’ Network compriseseducators throughout the U.S. who serve as liaisonsbetween the Memorial Fund, their community andstate and local school systems. The Memorial Fundprovides members with free educational materialsand professional development opportunities.

Volunteers provide assistance to the Memorial’s 4.4million annual visitors—helping to locate names onThe Wall, providing history lessons and aiding withname rubbings. The Memorial Fund furnishes the

volunteers with the necessary supplies to continuetheir useful work.

Name Rubbings are provided free. Each weekMemorial Fund volunteers bring paper and pencilto The Wall and begin the work to keep alive thememories of American heroes who made theultimate sacrifice decades ago.

Memorial Preservation is a cooperative effortbetween the Memorial Fund and the National ParkService. The Memorial Fund pays for catastrophicinsurance for the Memorial as well as for annualname additions and status changes. It also has hiredengineering firms to conduct extensive studies onThe Wall. The Memorial Fund also supplies copiesof the Directory of Names for use at the Memorialand provides for other items, including light bulbs,graphite pencils, name rubbing paper and volunteeruniforms. The Memorial Fund keeps granite panelsin storage in case of damage to The Wall.

The Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund is a 501(c)(3)nonprofit organization and its funding comes fromgrants and gifts from the general public.

If you would like more information on our programsor are interested in supporting the Memorial Fund,please contact us at the following address:

VIETNAM VETERANS MEMORIAL FUND1023 15th Street, NW, Second Floor

Washington, DC 20005202-393-0090 phone

202-393-0029 [email protected]

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