The Vietnam War Memorial stands against the stark contrast of its surroundings, its black granite sparkling with pride for the names inscribed into its skin. The black, not just a symbol of death but of remembrance, emphasizes the names and the memories behind it. The Vietnam Veteran’s War Memorial is “a symbol of American’s honor and recognition of the men and women who served and sacrificed their lives during the Vietnam War” (Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund). There are over 58,000 names on that wall. 58,000 men and women who went overseas for the longest war in U.S history, and never came home. In their honor, we now have this beautiful wall to remember their courage, sacrifice, and devotion to us all.
After the war, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund, Inc. wanted to have a tangible symbol of the sacrifices that so many of our people made. After introducing legislation and raising more than eight million dollars for the project, Congress set up a site on July 1, 1980, of three acres near the Lincoln Memorial for the project. In October of that year, the charity created a design competition which eventually became the largest ever held in the United States (2,573 registrants). By March, all final design entries (1,421 of them) were judged by an anonymous jury until the design of the memorial wall we know today (designed by Maya Lin of Athens, Ohio) was chosen and approved. Ground was officially broken on March 26, 1982, and the project was completed the following October with a dedication on Veteran’s Day in November.
Since then, few changes have been made to the memorial wall. There was, however, a women’s memorial statue added in dedication to the heroism of the women who fought in the war, as well as a memory plaque of all those who served but whom died after the war was officially over. Altogether, the memorial stands tall and proud, and millions visit it every year. It is quite possibly one of the most influential memorials of American History.
The thing is, though, that over the years its importance has started to fade. As the daughter, sister, and niece of veterans, this breaks my heart. I come from a family full of veterans, and although I’m one of the lucky ones in the sense that I’ve never lost one of them to war, I do know what it’s like to send one off to the other side of the world, to a country surrounded with tension and conflict. I do know what it’s like to think about the possibility of him never coming home. I know what it’s like to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas worrying more about whether he’s safe than whether the turkey is cooked just right or if I’ve got enough gifts for people under the Christmas tree. I know what it’s like to worry about him receiving his care packages on time and whether he has someone, anyone, to share them with. I worried about him every day until he stepped foot back into this country. And I worry about the possibility of him ever having to go back. I wish that on no one.
Being a part of a family of veterans is unlike anything imaginable. So for me, thanking them and remembering the ones we’ve lost is no difficulty at all. Every Veteran’s Day I call my parents up and thank them for their service. I thank them for their sacrifices, without which they never would have met and I never would have been born. I call my brother and tell him I love him and miss him. And my aunt and uncles, my cousin, I make sure they all know I’m thinking about them too. They deserve it. They deserve to be recognized. And so do the men and women on that black granite wall.
A man only identifiable by the name of Mike A. wrote a piece titled “The Torment of a Distant War” about his fight to find peace with his survival’s guilt as well as the death of so many of his fallen comrades. In his piece, he describes the day he and so many others landed in Vietnam and the fact that all he could think about as he stared into the eyes of the others crammed into the landing boat with him was that “we all knew what the other was thinking. Some of us would be going home in body bags” (Mike A.). He remembers looking around and reading the expressions on everyone’s faces, practically hearing the question, “Who would be the unlucky one”? More importantly, however, was the fact that Mike was worried about himself. Being a field corpsman, he had a target on his back and the stats were against him. Against amazing odds, however, he made it home, but so many others he served with did not. Mike states that “Of the eight corpsmen who sailed over on the General Gordon with me in 1967, half didn’t make it back” (Mike A.). Because of this realization, he has been fighting with severe survival’s guilt and PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) ever since he returned. He can’t seem to wrap his head around it all. He doesn’t feel deserving or heroic. He can’t find it in himself to be compared the men who gave it all while he got to come home. He holds himself accountable for each and every one of them, and he still fights that guilt constantly.
So many others are just like Mike. So many others fight the pain constantly, unable to accept the thanks they receive for their service as they remember the ones that didn’t make it back. He, and so many others, doesn’t feel deserving of the gratitude like the men and women written on that black wall. But they do deserve it. They are just as deserving as those who didn’t make it back. They deserve to be remembered too, right alongside all of those on the memorial.
Reading all of these stories about Vietnam makes it easier to see that the wall is about more than remembering the war. In fact, it has nothing to do with remembering the war. No one could care less about it. The wall is about all 58,000 names that are inscribed into it and the countless others who live to this day with the terrible memories of that endless battle. Each name on the wall has a story, a family. Each one of them means something to someone, in the same way the veterans in my family mean something to me. So no, it’s not about that worthless war. It’s about them. Every day people visit that memorial and read name after name, but do they actually understand the gravity that stands behind them? Do they read that name and remember the young eighteen year old boy who was drafted out of high school? He had a whole life ahead of him. Or what about the young man who left behind a wife and children? They needed him to come home, and he didn’t. Those kids had to grow up with nothing but a name on a wall to remember him by. Do they read those names and think of the ones who couldn’t handle the pain, and ended their suffering, either through self-mutilation or suicide? Or do they remember the men and women who are still with us today, dealing with their pain without any recognition? Do those visitors, do you, understand the gravity behind that?
There is more to the memorial wall than most people can even begin to fathom. It’s not about death in the sense that everyone immediately seems to believe. It is, but it’s also about life. It’s about remembrance. It’s about looking at those names and recognizing that they were here, and they were just like us. It’s about remembering who they and their fellow comrades were, who their families are, and their importance. Without them, and without that memorial, this country would not be where it is today. If you ever get a chance to go in person, please don’t forget that. Don’t forget that someone, somewhere, has a name on that wall. Someone, somewhere has a lifetime of memories inscribed into that black granite. Be mindful of them, think of them often, and most of all, be thankful.
“22 U.S. Veterans are committing suicide every day. And that’s just the official number. We believe the number is 24-25 Veterans a day. That's more than 9,000 former service members each year lost to suicide. The National Veterans Foundation is dedicated to eliminating veteran suicides through vet-to-vet crisis counseling and other assistance to successfully reintegrate back to civilian life” (National Veterans Foundation).
Works Cited
A., Mike. “The Torment of a Distant War”. Anothersource.org/torment. N.p. , n.d. Web. 2 November 2015 http://www.anothersource.org/torment_1.html
National Veterans Foundation: The Lifeline for Veterans. Ranking Edge and Happy Joe Veterans. Web. 26 October 2015. http://nvf.org/
Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund: Founders of the Wall. Corporate Zen. Web. 26 October, 2015. http://www.vvmf.org/the-memorial-history
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