MESSAGES FROM THE WALL |
Your name is on a black wall in D.C., but I'm sorry to say that it's a little below ground, kind of like how Charlie was! You overlook a nice green, a place like where we used to play football back home. A lot of people walk by all day. You can tell which are the vets. We are the ones who don't have to ask about the size or type of material used to make the wall. We just stand and look, not caring who sees us cry, just like no one cared who died. |
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I never cried. My chest becomes unbearably painful and my throat tightens so I can't even croak, but I haven't cried. I wanted to, just couldn't. I think I can today. Damn, I'm crying now. Bye Smitty. Get some rest. |
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We did what we could but it was not enough because I found you here. You are not just a name on this wall. You are alive. You are blood on my hands. You are screams in my ears. You are eyes in my soul. I told you you'd be alright, but I lied, and please forgive me. I see your face in my son, I can't bear the thought. You told me about your wife, your kids, your girl, your mother. And then you died. Your pain is mine. I'll never forget your face. I can't. You are still alive. |
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This marks the second year I have come to the Wall. I have seen the names of those I know, and yes, I have cried. My problem is I don't know the names of those I tried to help only to have them die in my arms.... In Vietnam, at age 20, I was put in charge of a riverboat. Now everytime I get on a boat, I only see the red blood running over the deck and into the water. I try to take my two sons fishing, but we never stay out long. The fish don't seem to bite when I take them out like they do when they go out with someone else's father. They are too young to understand that their father does not like the reflections he sees in the water. For these reasons I write to say I'm sorry.....I did the best I could. To all you mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, wives and lovers of those men, I am sorry. "I could do no more" I wish I knew your names so I could touch your names in the black stone. But I don't and I'm sorry. "So Sorry" Attatched to this letter are my service medals. These belong to you and your family, and your friends. I don't need them to show I was there. I have your faces to remind me in my sleep..... Rest well, my brothers, may the wind be to your backs and the sun in your faces. On the day we meet again please do one thing. "Tell me your name". |
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Dad, It's nearly impossible to write what I feel today. I may never know why things happened the way they did. I wish to hell I did. Someday you may come home and I'll know then the truth. I wish you could reach me and tell me what happened. You have grandchildren now. They know of you and they love you. Someday we'll be together again and maybe then we can do all those things we never could before. I love you and miss you, Gary |
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I shut my eyes and wouldn't listen when they came with morning and told me that you had slipped away. I closed my mind against my thoughts, not wanting to believe you'd gone. Not dragged off, captured in the bright day's savage madness, not overwhelmed by the dark blind angers of the night, but here, within the sight and sound and smell and feel of the sea, of salty spray on gentle winds so near. |
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How angry I was to find you here, though I knew that you would be. I've wished so hard that I could have saved you. I would give my life if somehow it would bring you all back. It is only now on my second trip to this monument that I can admit that you, my friends, are gone forever, that I can say your names and speak of your deaths. I've carried the anguish of your deaths for so long, but I think I can stop looking for you now. I think I can start living without letting you die. |
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Actual messages left at The Wall |
Midi Compliments of MIDIMIGHT |
FOR MY BROTHER JOHN, WHO WALKED THE WALK. |
