I remember the biting cold as I stepped from my car. I looked toward the National Vietnam Veterans Memorial, and walked with the growing crowd. I saw people clustered from one end to the other of the Memorial . . . The Wall.

A mother called out, "Look honey, here he is . . . over here." Wives, sons, daughters, loved ones, and veterans searching for that someone who had touched their life's.

As I approached the black granite Wall, I felt a lump in my throat as the stamina left my legs. I stopped a few feet from the chiseled names and waited as a soldier completed his time with his friend's name and their memories.

With the passing of time memories fade, although some are as clear as my cousins' names this day. Some are too fragile though three decades have passed.

There is another name I search for, glimpsing at the panel number repeatedly though I know it by heart. Panel Number 17-W, Line 40. Nearly four years later, and thousands of names, I found: Gary Steven Poss. KIA at age 20, after only two and a half months in country, on 10/05/69.

A bridge of memories span the many panels between their names. I had touched their names, and it was if they in turned had touched me and proved to soften my heart for the rest of my life. A feeling that a link still existed between us, as warriors of that war.

I sensed the calling of a Heavy Heart from within The Wall . . .

We, who were returned to this side came home with the Nation's Flag draped over us. Our Nation and Family put us to rest with a Twenty-one Gun Salute. Our heart went out to all of you. When we saw the hurt that you endure when even as you stepped off the plane. Your welcome home, was seeing the Nation's Flag burning. If you felt a longing to return, that feeling was us standing by your side. . .and even when you felt unworthy and confuse about your country.

We were there when our great Nation turned it's back on you. We watched as they put a crown of hate upon your head.

We were there felt the scars take their toll, as anti-war demonstrations flared. We saw the look in your eyes, when you felt that serving your country was meanness and somehow not honorable. We were there, when as your brothers and sisters tried to talk to someone about how your life had changed. . .and when no one cared or would listen.

We felt your anger at acts of treason by Jane Fonda, and the hurt, and harm that cast upon you.

You kept a Roll on your side. . .and we on ours. Every warrior who fell is named by us. Every warrior killed in Vietnam, did not die in Vietnam. Names are still called out to this day as new casualties are found.

But, the hardest name to say for us is when one of our own falls to drugs, alcohol . . . or just drop out of life. But we are there, even then . . . though tears . . . we were there.

Those of you who pick up that crown can bear it with pride. We watch as you raise from scars to become our Police Officer's, Doctor's, Lawyer's, Teacher's, and Blue Collar worker's. Most of all, parents of our future generations of children. Knowing we left our nation in your hands is a comfort to us. We have never forgotten you, as you have not forgotten us. We will be with until you are with us.

Larry G. Poss,
US Army