*THE MEMORIAL WALL*
The following is a post written by one of my nurse friends from California & posted on our nursing message board:
When I was 19 years old, and in nursing school, there was a group that sent packages to the troops. You see, they were the same age as me. My mom and I would go shopping for the things on the list, Gum, nonperishable candy, it was too hot there for chocolate, cookies, they loved home made cookies. The list goes on, but you get the idea.
I became pen pals with a young Marine, a Sergeant and the leader of his group of men, he was from Texas and 24 years old. After that, I began sending the packages directly to him and his men. It became fun to pick things out that they really needed. Socks were very important to them.
I wrote to him and he wrote to me every few weeks. I saved the letters he wrote. He had been to San Diego, so he knew the area. So we had a little something in common.
He would tell me about his men and how hard it was to write the parents of those who didn't make it.
One thing that he wrote me one time, was that, all of his men wrote Cindy on the inside of their helmets. They felt it was good luck to put my name there. I was so flattered.
Then, I didn't get a letter for a long time. I was so worried. Then finally, a letter came. He had been wounded and was in Hawaii. He said he was going to get better and when he did, he was going to go home.
I never heard from him again. I didn't know if he lived or died.
I went to the Wall 5 years ago. I had saved every letter he wrote me. All these years I kept them save in my dresser. I would take them out every once in a while to read them. They were very special to me. I took them with me when I went to the Wall.
I went here to look for his name. It wasn't there. I was so relieved. But I wanted to leave the letters there. A park ranger told me there is a huge room some where in DC and they take every thing that people leave there to the room for storage and some day, there will be a museum, and they will fill it with the memories that people leave there.
I asked the ranger if my letters would be safe if I left them there, she said yes, that every night they take all the memories to the storage area and every day, the new memories start.
I put the letters in a plastic zip bag and set them by the Wall. Then I cried and cried and cried some more. Just as I sit here right now crying at the thought that 53,000 brave men and women dying in that horrible place called Viet Nam.
How could we as a country allow something like that happen? For what? And how could we allow it to happen again? Where will the next Wall be? The Mall in Washington DC is almost full of war memorials. There isn't too much space left for any more.
Yes, I am a liberal democrat and proud of it. That doesn't make me, or any other liberal less a patriot than anybody else. I believe there just has to be a reason to allow so many people to die, and I don't believe this war is the right reason and nobody will convince me other wise.
The following is a post written by one of my nurse friends from California & posted on our nursing message board:
When I was 19 years old, and in nursing school, there was a group that sent packages to the troops. You see, they were the same age as me. My mom and I would go shopping for the things on the list, Gum, nonperishable candy, it was too hot there for chocolate, cookies, they loved home made cookies. The list goes on, but you get the idea.
I became pen pals with a young Marine, a Sergeant and the leader of his group of men, he was from Texas and 24 years old. After that, I began sending the packages directly to him and his men. It became fun to pick things out that they really needed. Socks were very important to them.
I wrote to him and he wrote to me every few weeks. I saved the letters he wrote. He had been to San Diego, so he knew the area. So we had a little something in common.
He would tell me about his men and how hard it was to write the parents of those who didn't make it.
One thing that he wrote me one time, was that, all of his men wrote Cindy on the inside of their helmets. They felt it was good luck to put my name there. I was so flattered.
Then, I didn't get a letter for a long time. I was so worried. Then finally, a letter came. He had been wounded and was in Hawaii. He said he was going to get better and when he did, he was going to go home.
I never heard from him again. I didn't know if he lived or died.
I went to the Wall 5 years ago. I had saved every letter he wrote me. All these years I kept them save in my dresser. I would take them out every once in a while to read them. They were very special to me. I took them with me when I went to the Wall.
I went here to look for his name. It wasn't there. I was so relieved. But I wanted to leave the letters there. A park ranger told me there is a huge room some where in DC and they take every thing that people leave there to the room for storage and some day, there will be a museum, and they will fill it with the memories that people leave there.
I asked the ranger if my letters would be safe if I left them there, she said yes, that every night they take all the memories to the storage area and every day, the new memories start.
I put the letters in a plastic zip bag and set them by the Wall. Then I cried and cried and cried some more. Just as I sit here right now crying at the thought that 53,000 brave men and women dying in that horrible place called Viet Nam.
How could we as a country allow something like that happen? For what? And how could we allow it to happen again? Where will the next Wall be? The Mall in Washington DC is almost full of war memorials. There isn't too much space left for any more.
Yes, I am a liberal democrat and proud of it. That doesn't make me, or any other liberal less a patriot than anybody else. I believe there just has to be a reason to allow so many people to die, and I don't believe this war is the right reason and nobody will convince me other wise.
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