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Old 11-11-2004, 11:31 AM  
codymc12
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Join Date: May 2003
Posts: 719
To Andrew.

My mother's best friend in High School. He was from a wealthy family, but his friends were not. In 1967, he volunteered to go to Vietnam against his father's wishes (his Dad could have gotten him out of it). He did not agree with the war, but he was watching his friends get drafted, and refused to let his privelege excuse him.

He died outside of Saigon in 1968, the year I was born.

We went to the wall in DC, and my mother wept when she saw his name.

To Tom.

A veteran of the Gulf War, career gunnery sargeant, and good friend. He agreed with that war, but was never able to talk about the losses of his friends there, as it affected him too deeply and he wasn't the kind of guy to let his emotions get the best of him.

He survived that war, and not long after coming back was being promoted to embassy duty - a hard job to get. He was a week away from his assignment when he got into a car accident as a passenger, and permanently disabled his arm, causing his discharge from the military. He still laughs about it - he survived Iraq only to be taken down by a driver on the I 5.

To Jim.

I met him when I was 16, as he worked as a Carpenter for my father, and I was making some extra cash as a helper that summer. He had been in Vietnam, and made the remark that he never felt more alive than he did while he was under fire. He killed himself 2 years later, when I was 18.

To my Grandfather.

Career military, an airforce Colonel, and veteran of the Korean war. A hard man, in his mid 40's, he frothed at the mouth any time the Vietnam war came up in the negative. In his late 40's, a good friend of his died. I was visiting them that Summer, and I saw him crying. He told me that his friend had a son who had died in Vietnam, and because that friend had been a buddy in Korea, he felt it was dishonorable to say anything bad about that war. Now that his friend had died, he told me that he was always secretly thankful that HIS sons had never gone there, and always secretly shamed for feeling that way.

My grandfather died at 55 of emphysema, and we went to his funeral. It was impressive and sad - 21 gun salute, missing pilot formation, and folded flag.

To my mother's father.

He died in WW 2, a month after my mother was born. She never knew him.

And finally, to Jim Jr, son of our friend Jim. He's over there now, and his father worries about him, every day.

The veterans are everywhere, and they touch all of our lives, and deserve to be remembered.
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