The Power of the Moving Wall...

I wrote this while I was Kerry's Veterans Affairs Adviser
in the state of Delaware. It was based on my own reaction having been
an Adviser in Asia up to and including the beginning of the War...

Let me know what you think....

Les



The Power of the Moving Wall...

By Les Aaron

For years, I’ve been going back and forth between Washington and Delaware to see my daughter and my grand=children. In all of that time, I had promised to visit the Vietnam memorial. But as much as I wanted to pay my respects, I was always concerned that I would find some dear friend’s name on the list…so that colored my intentions and gave me a reason, a faulty one at that, for putting it off. The last thing I wanted to do was to come across the name of one of my near and dear fellow-adviser’s at the beginning of the Wall.

Today, when the Veterans group I belong to said that they would meet at the Moving Wall display, which had come to Seaford, a little town in South-western Delaware, I decided to finally make the move. Now, I was going to confront my demons.

Truly, I had some apprehension about going. Rainy weather and converging plans caused me to miss my meeting with the Veterans so I wound up finding my way there by myself. By the time, I arrived I had driven over one hundred miles and the rain was so thick, I could barely see out the windows with the defroster working overtime.. The site was soggy and only a few folks there with umbrellas and a handful of Veterans sitting by in field tents with all of their battlefield gear.

I walked over to the display and an aide came over to ask me if there was anybody in particular I wanted to look up.. I told him, no. I was not looking for anybody in particular. And he looked at me somewhat blankly. I hadn’t intended to explain but circumstances seemed to dictate that I didn’t leave him hanging. And since there was virtually no one there he stayed by my side...

I explained that when President Kennedy had asked for volunteers back in 1960, I was already an adviser in the Asian theatre with I Corps which included the Seventh Division and the First Cav which would later be transformed into the First Air Cav. At the time, I was working with Warrant officers who were required to upgrade their qualifications. Shortly after being elected, President Kennedy sent a request to my unit seeking volunteers to go to Vietnam.

Remember, things had not heated up yet and for some of us, the idea of going to a warmer climate with real beaches seemed perhaps like a welcome change of pace after freezing temperatures and sullen Monsoons. Therefore, it didn’t take much encouragement for me to sign up. By the following week, I had gotten my allowance, bought all new civilian clothes, packed all of my uniforms in my foot and wall lockers and put them in storage. I was all set for my trip down to Saigon when I received an urgent message from S-3 informing me that I was “too short,” meaning that I didn’t have enough time to complete a full tour in Southeast Asia.. In order to get on the next flight out, I would have to re-enlist. At that point, I had already been extended because of the Berlin crisis and I had been away from home for three Christmases. Dad and mom were both getting on in years and they had kept asking me when I was coming home again. I finally decided against going. But at the same time, many of my friends from Headquarters Company, I Corps had volunteered.

After they left, my tour ended and we became separated. I never knew what happened to my buddies who decided to volunteer for Vietnam duty. I always wondered whether they all made it back. Did a friend of mine end his life in some tragic way far, far from home? I didn’t know. It was a question I could not answer. So, today’s trip to the Moving Wall became a particularly moving experience for me—especially when I learned that the Wall began in 1959 and counted out by date and year to include the more than 58,000 names enshrined on this wall forever…All the men who had served in the 59-60 period would be down near the center of the wall where it folded like two black wings of a giant bird.

I couldn’t believe how many names were on the first part of the Wall meaning that early advisers had died in overwhelming numbers. I started reading name after name and none sounded familiar.. And the water kept drenching me but I didn’t even notice. I was almost mesmerized and then I got to a point where I could read no further because the magnitude of all those names suddenly forced me to back away and think about all of those boys and girls, each with a story and a life to live and having it cut short before it was realized. One thing gave me a little solace, I did not see the names of my friends on the wall although I had not read the entire 59 or 60 casualty list. One name was starting to run into another…and I couldn’t read them anymore.

I stood back from the Wall to try to absorb the significance of sixty thousand names. One of the guides appeared behind me. I whispered to him in a choking voice and said the first thing that I could think of which was something like, “Is this just more than any one person can bear…”
And he shook his head. And then I continued to say what was on my mind: “And it doesn’t even reflect all of those who will never be the same again.” And he acknowledged that, too. Then I said added without intending to do so, “I would have hoped we would have learned our lesson by now… That we would not send troops into harms way unless we had a plan and an exit strategy.” I’m not sure but now the three guides were listening and I could swear their eyes started to mist up as did mine.

I then looked around again at the enormity of all those names staring me in the face, names that I could no longer read without choking up, saluted the guides and walked silently away, the rain drops landing on my umbrella. I didn’t see anyone I knew who had come to take in the memorial but tomorrow would be another day. And the sky looked very threatening with storm clouds everywhere. In my mind, it seemed that the weather was perfectly suited to the occasion. It was the most moving of times and perhaps it was the kind of time you have to spend alone with your thoughts… I was glad I had decided to come, to make the moment my own..

As I started to retrace my steps, I kept thinking about that movie Going Home where Jon Voight comes home wounded and confined to a wheel chair and feels he must tell the youth of this country what war is really all about. And then my thoughts drifted to the book “A Bright Shining Lie,” that formed my views of Vietnam and retold the story of one of America’s best and brightest and his experience in two tours and how his views had changed. I hoped upon hope that Iraq was not going to be a repeat of the past. As I walked away through the rain-soaked field, I felt that this Moving Wall was a memorial to each of those men and women inscribed there; it was sixty thousand memorials. And more than that, the Wall was many things. In it, I saw a sign-post to guide us in the future and almost a lesson to future generations to caution us against the enormity of fighting a distant war without a just cause and the full commitment of our government.. Yes, we would probably go to war again, if America required it. But at that moment I prayed that there would never be a need for another wall emblazoned with American names.

Les Aaron