It has taken a while,
but I finally went to see you.
Not physically, that’s
impossible, but in spirit, as
I look at your name on
that Black Marbled Wall. I was told
that you died over
there. They didn’t tell me till a year or so
after I returned for fear of how I would take
it.
I didn’t take it well. And when I went to our 25th
High School Reunion
and saw your name on
the program under posthumous, I didn’t
take that well,either.
Have never gone to another one since.
I found Al that day on
the wall while I was there.
You didn’t know Al.
He and I were bunker buddies
in Khe Sanh. We used
to sneak up to the supply depot at night,
stopping by the Med Unit
first to grab a stretcher, and grab
boxes of supplies,
never knowing what we had till
we got back to our
bunker and opened them up. Everyone
would come by and we
would share our bounty with them.
Al didn’t make it.
He died on some
forgotten hill. I have to tell you,
I’m still afraid to
look for any guys I left behind. I guess in my mind
I’d rather think that
they got back to the World like I did,
got married, raised a
family and are looking to retire soon,
move to Florida and
spend their days fishing. I know you would
have had plans much
the same. I tell you what brother,
when I get there I promise
I will put a rod out for you and Al
and open a beer or
two.
