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A Tribute to My Brother

By Kristin Elise Lindley

A tribute to my Vietnam Veteran brother Capt. Forrest Berry Lindley.
From his little sister Kristin Elise Lindley.
Charlotte Hall Veterans Home Maryland—Veterans Day 2019.

To my Brother Rusty in his world of Vietnam Veterans
A wounded warrior waging battles in his nightmares
And delusions in his daydreams of no redemption
This madness, this anguish, this cry for help
One of many Old Soldiers who survived or did they
Living out their days of disillusion and demise
From the wreckage of war and its eternal aftermath
I remember a brother who was highly intelligent,
A gentle soul, a curious mind, a subtle humor
Until the years of unspeakable and unforgettable war
The abandonment and deception and horror
That invade the psyche and never let go –
Even in one's wildest moments of denial
I have seen brilliance dissolve into a dying ember
Decimated like a bomb imploded to self-destruct
While I was not watching, not being aware, not caring
I have seen creativity and splendor and genius
Give way to trembling nightmares and hollow hauntings
Creeping like a soldier armed to fight and bare witness
To death, to the enemy, to the antithesis of love and joy
The defeat which war unravels and tramples to the ground
Soldier of Vietnam, too young, too innocent, too raw
To the atrocities, the madness, the destruction
That war inflicts upon the body, mind and soul. . .

Angels of Charlotte Hall Veterans Home
Rock me in your care, and roll me in my chair
O Mamas – In the bosom of Abraham
Nurses, aides, doctors – nurture, compassion and humor
Caretakers of broken dreams and bodies rolling by
Of those who walk and those who wheel
And those who remember too much
And those who are better off having forgotten
Black and white and in between Veterans
World War II, Korea, Vietnam, Afghanistan, Iraq
Caring for sorrow and frailty and disease
And madness and decay and death
From wars that only soldiers have seen
Caring for memories and nightmares
That linger forever and seldom are wrong
After war has ended in the politicians' minds
Yet for the Soldier it is never over, never gone

At Charlotte Hall I weave my way through a sea of old soldiers,
Wheeling and motoring themselves down the wide corridors
Adorned with warriors' memorabilia and honor to thy country
And the slumped–over soldiers wearily wearing caps
Emblazoned with the name of their specific war
Of that one unforgotten moment in warrior's time
That sent them to the nursing home for Old Soldiers
In baggy pants with briefs beneath, tethered to oxygen tanks,
With missing limbs, and missing minds and missing a woman
And some soldiers who never leave the bed at all
And don't know if and what they are missing.

I remember fondly Nurse Toya from Alabama—her black face the sweet kindness of infinite compassion, her hands a gentle touch and a Mother's embrace—reaching out to Veterans of every color to feed and comfort those in need. Toya like the song of a Gospel prayer and the understanding that it is the Lord's duty to care for the sick and dying. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.

I cry for the children of Vietnam Veterans who bear the physical and mental suffering of their parents plus the diseases that they have inherited from them—the cancer, the spina bifida, the infertility, etc. Soldiers bring home not only the wounds of war and the memories of horror, but also the bacteria, viruses and diseases that they carry within their bodies—in blood, sperm, sweat and tears. To pass down unto the next generation. And the next. In a war of repercussions that never ends. Blessed be the children for they shall inherit the earth.

Soldiers of Charlotte Hall—upon this Veterans Day we salute you. Did your sacrifice make the world a better place—or merely someone else richer and the powerful even more so? Were you lauded with praise, healthcare, a home and an education upon your return? Or were you forgotten in a series of forgotten wars that only remain in the minds of the soldiers and their families? Were you then placed in a nursing home high on a hill where the Angel Nurses care for you? I am your sister; I am your family—I care for you. I promise I won't let the world forget.

Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.

And I cry out never more, never more!!! End the wars, end the wars!!! An ancient ritual with new technology. Imagine all the people living life in Peace. Like an eternal echo that resonates in people's souls until they covet no more. Until the world sees the destruction of war and the soldier's aftermath and all nations stop the wars. Imagine. Then there would be no more Veterans and their children, no more Old Soldiers, and no more Wounded Warriors.