Tag Archives: Memorial Day

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Praying for the souls we have lost

My wife and I are going to spend part of Memorial Day doing what all Americans ought to do.

I don’t mean to hold us up as paragons of patriotism, but our plans for the day include a visit to the Texas Panhandle War Memorial, next to the Randall County Courthouse Annex at Georgia Street and Interstate 27 in Amarillo. Yes, we’re going to grill some burgers later in the day … but first things first.

There will be a ceremony at 11 a.m. honoring those who have fallen in defense of the nation we all love so dearly.

I’ve been blessed in countless ways, all beyond measure. One of those blessings includes a sparse number of friends, acquaintances and loved ones who have perished while serving in time of war. I haven’t lost any of my buddies from my childhood who went to war in Vietnam.

But I’ll remember a particular fellow I did lose one day in June 1969. I’ve introduced you to him already on his blog. His name was Jose De La Torre. He was from Fullerton, Calif. We served in the same U.S. Army aviation battalion in Da Nang. I was assigned to a fixed-wing unit. De La Torre served on a Huey helicopter crew and manned an M-60 machine gun when the ship flew.

He took off one day on a “routine” troop lift. However, the landing zone was hot, full of enemy forces who opened fire on the ships delivering troops to the battlefield.

De La Torre was one of those killed in action.

I’ll remember him and will pay tribute and honor to all who have died in service to our country.

The Panhandle War Memorial pays tremendous honor to those Panhandle residents who gave their last full measure of devotion. I was honored to have had a hand in producing the exhibit. I was awarded the task of writing narratives about many of the conflicts that are profiled there, dating back to the Spanish-American War of 1898.

This blog post, however, is about the individuals whose names are inscribed on the stone tablets. They answered their nation’s call.

There’s an inscription at the memorial that tells us that “All gave some, some gave all.” These proud Americans gave all they had.

They are heroes — every one of them — in the truest sense of that overused word.

May they all rest in peace.

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Gratified at honor being paid

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I am gratified at the nation’s coming of age as it relates to our veterans.

We thank them constantly. We offer thanks for their service to the country when we people who know to be vets. We shake the hands of our military personnel when we see them in uniform.

Memorial Day is about to dawn over the nation and once again we’re going to honor those who paid the ultimate price for the freedom we enjoy.

Communities from coast to coast to coast will honor those who paid that price. Amarillo will do just that Monday morning when the city’s mayor, Paul Harpole, a Vietnam War combat veteran, will deliver remarks at the Texas Panhandle War Memorial.

OK, I told you of my gratification at the nation’s coming of age in this regard.

It wasn’t like this just a few decades ago. I had the honor of wearing my country’s uniform for a couple of years from 1968 to 1970. The Army snatched me up and sent me to Vietnam. I came home, resumed my life, got married and have lived a good life with my family.

There was little of the community love being tossed at us when we returned home. No, I didn’t get spit on, or cursed at. But those who died on those distant battlefields weren’t honored the way they are today.

Do not misconstrue these thoughts. I mention them not to express any bitterness. I have none. I mention it to remind us all that sometimes a nation doesn’t always do the right thing by those who serve it.

It’s all changed. For the better. We’ve learned our lesson as a nation. It warms my heart.

The change occurred at the end of the Persian Gulf War in early 1991. You’ll remember it, right? Communities had parades for the returning warriors. We cheered them. We honored those who died.

What’s not always recognized about that resurgence of respect and pride in our military is that those who led those cheers were Vietnam War veterans who had felt a nation’s scorn simply because they did what their country ordered them to do.

I feel only gratitude today when I see the love poured out to those who return and I am moved often to near tears when I see honors given in memory of those who gave their last full measure of devotion in defense of our great nation.

Let’s enjoy the time with our friends and family. While we’re doing so, let’s also honor the memory of those who gave all they had so we could celebrate today.

 

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‘Every politician … needs to come here’

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Not too many years after moving to the Texas Panhandle, my wife and I ventured west into New Mexico and discovered something in the resort community of Angel Fire that moved us both profoundly.

It’s the Vietnam Veterans National Memorial.

It was conceived and developed by a man whose son, David, was among the 58,000 Americans who died during the Vietnam War.

Mere words cannot begin to describe the power and pathos contained inside this memorial. It features the words of those who died. It tells the story — through letters written to loved ones back home and in diaries — of their fear, their apprehension, of their pride in the service to their country and of their love for each other as brothers in arms.

The late Victor Westphall’s memorial to his son comes to my mind today as the nation celebrates Memorial Day. President Obama laid a wreath today at the Tomb of the Unknown. Other memorials today will be visited by those who cherish the memories of those who have died in defense of the nation. We’ll pay appropriate tribute to those who gave their “last full measure of devotion.”

My wife and I took our time walking through this memorial. We tried to read every word that was written by the young warriors — and about them.

We emerged from the chapel. My wife’s eyes were moist. So were mine.

“Every politician who ever sends young men to war,” she said, “needs to come here and see this place.”

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R.I.P., young soldier

I posted this blog essay two years ago to commemorate Memorial Day. I want to share it again today as the nation prepares to honor the memories of those who have fallen in battle.

I don’t dwell too much on these kinds of things, but I’m thinking today of a young man I knew briefly many years ago.

His name was Jose DeLaTorre. We served in the same U.S. Army aviation battalion at Marble Mountain, a heavily fortified outpost just south of Da Nang in what used to be called South Vietnam. He served in a different company than I did; he worked on a UH-1 Huey helicopter crew while I was assigned to a fixed-wing outfit, the 245th Aviation Company, which flew OV-1 Mohawk reconnaissance aircraft.

One day in June 1969, Jose came bursting into our work area full of enthusiasm. He was going home in just a few days. I recall he’d extended his tour in ‘Nam several times. I think he had served something like 32 months in-country. I recall he usually was full of it – even on his quiet days. But on this day, Jose was pretty much out of control with excitement.

Later that day, his Huey company scrambled on a troop-lift mission. DeLaTorre did what he usually did when his company got the call to lift off: He strapped himself into an M-60 machine gun and flew as a door gunner on the mission.

It was supposed to be a “routine” drop at a landing zone. It wasn’t. The LZ was “hot,” meaning the ships were greeted by heavy enemy fire when they arrived.

You know how this tale turns out.

DeLaTorre was killed in action that day.

I didn’t know him well. Indeed, it took me 21 years – when I visited the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in D.C. in 1990 with my wife and sons – to learn he hailed from Fullerton, Calif. I saw his name carved into The Wall. I paid my respects and, yes, choked back the lump in my throat.

Today I’m thinking of that effervescent young man and the 58,000-plus other names on that monument, as well all those who have fallen in battle since the beginning of this great republic.

May they all rest in peace.

Thank you for your sacrifice.