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Here We Are

By Horace Coleman

To have existed, worked and struggled so long and so well for 40 years is no accident or miracle. People labored hard, sweated, persevered.

I salute you brothers and sisters, civilians, relatives, Nam vets, Vietnam era vets or veterans of other wars. Meeting legendary VVAWers was great. Seeing folk I hadn't seen in years was a treat. Meeting new members and those I'd only exchanged e-mails or phone calls with was good.

The National Vietnam Veterans Art Museum was rewarding. You could have just stood in the Museum's foyer. Above your head was what first looked like a metallic chandelier without lights. Then you heard the soft tickling of metal touching metal, saw the small chains and recognized dog tags. Thousands of them, representing Nam KIAs.

To your right was a mural of a heart monitor reading. At one end were the words "All gave some." At the mural's other end was a flat line and "Some gave all."

On the opposite wall was a poem attributed to Deng-Ming Dao, a Taoist monk who lived centuries before Christ:

If you hold a real weapon in your hand,
you will feel its character strongly.
It begs to be used. It is fearsome.
Its only purpose is death,
and its power is not just in the material
from which it is made,
but also from the intention of its maker.
It is regrettable that weapons must be used,
but occasionally, survival demands it.
The wise go forth with weapons
only as a last resort.
They never rejoice in the skill of weapons,
nor do they glorify war.
When death, pain and destruction are visited
upon what you hold to be most sacred,
the spiritual price is devastating.
What hurts more than one's own suffering
is bearing witness to the suffering of others.
The regret of seeing
human beings at their worst
and sheer pain of not
being able to help the victims
can never be redeemed.
If you go personally to war,
you cross the line yourself.
You sacrifice ideals for survival
and fury of killing.
That alters you forever.
That is why no one rushes to be a soldier.
Think before you want to change
so unalterably
The stakes are not merely one's life,
but one's very own humanity.

To have existed, worked and struggled so long and so well for 40 years is no accident or miracle. People labored hard, sweated, persevered.

I salute you brothers and sisters, civilians, relatives, Nam vets, Vietnam era vets or veterans of other wars. Meeting legendary VVAWers was great. Seeing folk I hadn't seen in years was a treat. Meeting new members and those I'd only exchanged e-mails or phone calls with was good.

The National Vietnam Veterans Art Museum was rewarding. You could have just stood in the Museum's foyer. Above your head was what first looked like a metallic chandelier without lights. Then you heard the soft tickling of metal touching metal, saw the small chains and recognized dog tags. Thousands of them, representing Nam KIAs.

To your right was a mural of a heart monitor reading. At one end were the words "All gave some." At the mural's other end was a flat line and "Some gave all."

On the opposite wall was a poem attributed to Deng-Ming Dao, a Taoist monk who lived centuries before Christ:

What more did you need to see? There were good things inside too, like photographs of troops in Iraq taken by troops.

This may be the land of the (relatively) free but it's the home of the mostly not too brave. Honor, and aid, the warrior—not the war wimps who waste lives, bodies and minds in wars that aren't worth a draft. How people who cry for victory would cry if they were sent to a combat zone?

The same ol' beat goes on for today's warriors. PTSD still troubles vets; another generation faces the VA/military runaround. Never before have so many taken so much from so few.

The eulogies and remembrances Barry Romo and others uttered put flesh on bones. Biographies, deeds done and recollections made the VVAW departed breathe again. Maude DeVictor, among others, was there in spirit. She was a VA benefits counselor who connected Agent Orange exposure to veterans' cancers and to birth defects in their children. The VA forced her into resigning after she had submitted papers documenting her findings.

Jan Barry wrote the opening essay in the VVAW 40th anniversary book. "How VVAW Began"—"I was mad as hell and nobody would listen." Barry edited Peace Is Our Profession. At the time it appeared, almost every thing about Vietnam was written by a member of "the literary establishment." Barry and W.D. Ehrhart co-edited the book Demilitarized Zones. Author of several books of poetry and memoirs, Ehrhart also edited the anthology Carrying the Darkness.

Romo's essay, "A Struggle Continues: VVAW Turns 40," begins "An empire makes a wasteland and calls it peace...and the struggle continues."

My son, a veteran of Uncle Sam's Middle Eastern adventure, wrote this while deployed:

When you see the writing on the wall and you choose to forget what you have read,
Dark days are ahead.
When the world around you becomes unpleasant and you just turn your head,
Dark days are ahead.
When you know what must be done but do nothing instead,
Dark days are ahead.
When there is no denying the harsh truth and you must face what you fear,
Dark days are here.

A luta continua (the struggle continues). And a good time was had by all.