March 29, 1973. A day of both relief and grief in America. It marks the day the last American troops left Vietnam, thus ending what many would consider the most controversial, confusing, and divisive war in modern American history.
You might remember films and photos from atop the U.S. embassy of panicked people seeking escape via helicopters or images of the aircraft carriers as helicopters that had landed being pushed into the water after unloading those making it safely out.
So 44 years later, on March 29, 2017, 44 years too late, we began recognizing those who served in Vietnam by the creation of Vietnam War Veterans Day. Those of us who came of age watching the first war to be carried, often live, on our televisions while we ate dinner and watched our friends or family members battling in a land far away for purposes we found difficult to either understand much less embrace. But love for the boots on the ground was in most of our hearts even as we saw turmoil in our own streets.
Males of a certain age had ‘Nam affect a significant part of our lives. Some of us were just young enough and just lucky enough to have a ridiculous lottery determine our immediate paths. Others, a little bit older or losers in that stupid decision tool, went to a place far away, with an unclear purpose and a waffling national will. I had close friends go, some never coming home, many coming home changed for life, some carrying physical and mental scars, and all survivors having experienced something they never planned for and never wanted. If you were a male 18 or older between 65 and 73 a ghost in your mind about a small land far away was always there. It was like a fog that had a part of your future indeterminate.
I have friends now who have had health issues their entire lives and some who have had their senior retirement years hampered by chemical exposures in a jungle from long ago. I’ve lost friends over these decades whose happiness was always a bit clouded by memories they never should have had. I’m one of the lucky high number ones so my life went on unabated while friends’ lives did not. Their sadness was my sadness too. You carry the darkness of those you love, but the weight they always carry was a burden they never should have had.
I pray for those who went. I pray for the families also affected greatly, some far more than others. Bless them all for giving a part or all of their lives. They were good boys all who came home as men. Nam still saddens me to this date. I’m glad they get remembered by a formal day. It doesn’t make up for the losses, nothing much ever fully will, but we have shared their lives and our love so some of what they carry can be lightened.
I had a dear friend, at a point in time in our lives, my best friend. He served there in 1968 at 18, was awarded two Purple Hearts, a Bronze Star and an Air Infantry Combat Award. He is no longer with us but when I think of him I still hear his voice loudly in my mind. His wonderful brother posted a memory of him on this day of remembrance that brought tears to my eyes. Their mother was an award-winning writer for our hometown newspaper. She wrote about my friend coming home. Hundreds of thousands came home the same way and these words apply to them as well. Let’s pray for them and for their families too
Here is what she wrote when he limped home on a cane on Christmas Eve. My eyes are still watering. “It was Christmas at home for an Army private, who left a boy and came back old and saddened by man’s eternal inhumanity to man.” Rest in peace, my great friend.
Dr. Ed Moore served for many years as the president of the Independent Colleges and Universities of Florida (ICUF) and has served in both the legislative and executive branches of Florida government. Prior to ICUF, Dr. Moore was staff director for policy, for Worker’s Compensation, for Medical Liability and for Public Safety and Security in the Florida House of Representatives. He also worked in the private sector for 21 years.
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