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Letter to the Wall

By Jim Wohlgemuth

Dear So Many,

There are more than 58,000 of you on this Wall, So Many. I remember the first thoughts of building a memorial to Vietnam Vets and I am so grateful for Jan Scruggs and the many others who made it possible. I contributed cash but they made it happen, so that future generations could see the names of So Many. It has been nearly 44 years since I first saw the hills around DaNang, since I saw the jungle at Chu Lai and the mud of the Mekong Delta. I was in the Navy, on the Westchester County LST 1167. To my knowledge I was a replacement for one of the crew who was killed by a sapper's mine the previous November 1, 1968. I didn't want to be there. I never wanted to be there, but I was so grateful to my Mother for making sure I was wearing Navy blue versus Army green, like so many of you.

My service was not yours. I was rarely in harm's way, sitting at the mouth of the Mekong River Delta providing support for huey gun ships and PBRs. I was close enough to hear the roar of the fighter jets, the endless rhythm of those damn helicopters and the gut wrenching thud of some far away bombing run. I was close enough to see the tracers, the sparkling trail of VC rockets, and the eerie motionlessness of flares. I was close enough to be a spectator but you all were there. So Many of you were there. And that haunts me everyday.

I left the Navy after three years, nine months and eleven days, a number I will never forget. I went to college, got a job, got married and had children. I had a good life working in offices in and around Washington DC. Every Veteran's Day after The Wall was built, I would visit you all, look at the names of So Many who I did not know personally but who I would cry out for and ask why. Why were you now just a name etched on a stone black wall, while I lived on? So Many, 58,000 etchings that seemed to go on and on and on. Why was I the lucky one to be left off the wall. Why was I the one who would continue to go to ball games, enjoy a beer, drive a little too fast with the radio turned way up, make love, be a dad and a husband and now a grandfather. You the So Many would never hear the call of G-PA from a child of your child.

I tried in my own way to honor your life. When the second Bush administration chose to go to war with Iraq, I marched, I wore "no war" buttons. After years of war, I helped organize a vigil in Asheville to remember those young people who were now joining you, the So Many. When I became a teacher, I would show the students my picture of the Wall with So Many names. I would try to bring it home to them by showing them the list of you from North Carolina. I would bring it down to two of you, Ricky Propst and Ricky Lowder who had learned in classrooms where they now learned, walked the halls where they now walked, played on the fields where they now played, lived in the community where they now were growing up and died before their time. There were always two or three of my students who would notice that Ricky Propst died on his birthday. They would also notice my voice cracking and a tear trailing down my cheek.

I tried, I still try to help get your message out that you were real, that you were young, that you had futures, that you were So Many left behind. I worry now that the wall is becoming a memorial to the Vietnam War and not you all who are on it. I worry now that as we, the people who remember, age out, the people left behind, the people rewriting history, will think or promote Vietnam as an honorable endeavor. I worry now that people will misconstrue your honorable, brave service and your forever sacrifice with an honorable cause.

So I am now asking you, So Many, to come haunt the hearts and minds of the young today to stand up and say no. Say no to a life ended too soon; say no to So Many with PTSD or TBI; say no to fighting an "enemy" more misunderstood than threatening; say no to their war profiteers. If we don't go they cannot war. So I am praying to you So Many. Please come change the course of this country so that this time we can choose NOT to go, not to war.

With that just remember You So Many are never far from my mind and you are always in my heart. May God Bless You and Keep You.

Jim Wohlgemuth is a member of VVAW who lives in Nashville, Tennessee.