By Gene Marx


Panel 2 West,

It’s been awhile, my old friend.  Nearly five years now since I last stood like a phantom in the shadows of Constitution Gardens, my reflection on glossy black granite welcoming me back.  You knew I’d be back then and are probably expecting me this month when peace veterans converge on Washington, DC.   
 

It’s now been over forty years since I was eligible for my own etching on your façade, and since the week of the dedication of The Wall I’ve visited only you, panel 2 West, always looking forward to our private, late night musings with my best friend Captain Richard Halpin, memorialized on line 122.  Our shared ruminations have always run the gamut from guilty rationalizations to fond reminiscences, and each provided much-needed solace.
 
You’ve no doubt noticed that I’ve never shed a tear.  Like many Vietnam veterans, I have long felt that the misguided, sometimes fake reverence I’ve observed from visitors, in the glare of daylight and ceremony, is unbefitting your arguably sacred ground status.  Don’t expect to see me on Memorial Day.  Like most of our war memorials, you have become an appeasement to unbloodied patriots or, worse yet, a recruitment tool for endless wars.  So why would I cry?  Anger is a better fit.        
 
Respectfully, my stoic friend, no country that flaunts its militarism at home and abroad is worth dying for.  Dick and I never admitted that.  We were used.  We should have known better, but we were used and never served any causes but family legacy and youthful, immortal egos.  And sadly, if every town common in the United States had similar polished gabbro walls embossed instead with the countless civilian casualties of US interventionist wars, instead of used service men and women, our imperial wars for profit would still be waged, for generations.          
 
So I’ll see you soon, near the apex, in the dark.  I’ll come alone.
 
Gene Marx


The author of this post is Gene Marx from Bellingham, Washington. Gene is a Vietnam veteran and former Naval Flight Officer with VAQ-135 aboard the USS Coral Sea in 1971-72. Past Secretary of the VFP National Board of Directors, Gene is currently a member of VFP-111.

Letters to The Wall is a project of VFP's Vietnam Full Disclosure campaign.

By Bill Distler


Willie, I think about you and have thought about you every day since the mine went off that killed you.  I think about your family and I hope they have peace.

Even though we were arguing on the day you died, I think your family should know that you were so loved by everyone in our unit, that men were crying when the word came back to us that you had died in the field hospital.

My purpose in writing this is not to stir up painful memories for your family, but to hope that these words will comfort them.  I also hope that Bo, who was standing behind you when the mine went off, is doing okay.  I think about him, too.

Willie and Bo, two brave and honorable men. I hope you are in peace.

Willie, every day for 44 years, as if you were an angel, I saw your face behind my left shoulder, watching over me in a helpful way.  It seemed like you were always asking me: What are you going to do to make this right?

Willie, because of your presence in my life, I ask for God's help every day , to try to understand and to try to live a worthwhile life and to do the right thing.

Thank you, my friend.  I hope you are satisfied with what I've tried to do.
Peace to you and your family.


The author of this post is Bill Distler from Bellingham, Washington. Bill is a Vietnam veteran and former squad leader in the 101st Airborne Division in Vietnam from December 1967 to September 1968. He is a member of the Jonathan J. Santos Memorial Chapter of Veterans For Peace VFP-111.

Letters to The Wall is a project of VFP's Vietnam Full Disclosure campaign.

By Bill Distler

When King Herod heard rumors that a newborn Messiah might someday take his place, he ordered the killing of all newborn male children.  An angel came to Joseph in a dream and told him to take the Holy Family and flee into Egypt, where they found sanctuary.  If the Holy Family arrived at the U.S. border today would they be treated as undocumented aliens?  Someone in Egypt must have taken pity on them. Thank God that Donald Trump was not in charge of Egyptian border security in those days.

How does the story of Jesus have meaning in our lives today?  How many holy families (and under God, they are all holy), fleeing violence in Central America or the Middle East, has Donald Trump sent back to be killed? 

How did this cruel, sadistic man become president?  Every day he discovers new ways to disgrace our country.

Donald Trump needs to be impeached because, with his Muslim bans, he has violated the most important direction to the president that is written into the Constitution, "...he shall take care that the laws be faithfully executed".

If, as Doctor Martin Luther King Jr. said, we want to save the soul of America, we must, as faithful citizens, resist Donald Trump's usurpations.


The author of this post is Bill Distler from Bellingham, Washington. Bill is a Vietnam veteran and former squad leader in the 101st Airborne Division in Vietnam from December 1967 to September 1968. He is a member of the Jonathan J. Santos Memorial Chapter of Veterans For Peace VFP-111.