38 lines
1.9 KiB
Plaintext
38 lines
1.9 KiB
Plaintext
THE WALL
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by Karl L. Sandwell-Weiss
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I felt a chill wind blow through the pieces of my soul last night. No
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matter what the weather is like, I always feel cold when I go out to the
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Wall. I went out at 0100, or 1 AM this time, and looked at the names again.
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Early morning is a good time to go. You can be alone, because the
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others there feel like you do. I walked down the incline, slowing as I
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approached panel 4E. While I knelt and felt line 118, the chill was at its
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worst. I ran my fingers along the names, remembering. A vet in a wheel-
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chair was beside me, just rolling his chair an inch forward, an inch back,
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looking at the names. Two men walked down the pathway toward us. We saw
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each other, and knew that we shared each other's grief. No words were said,
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but we were brothers and shared what few others have.
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I stood up, and looked at the flowers, dog tags, beer cans, boots,
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hats, medals, and all the other symbols of a time gone by, remembering, and
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wondered, just a little, what each one meant. Some, I could guess at.
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Others I knew. Most were mysteries. Seems they were left by those trying to
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appease a ghost, or get back what was lost.
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There were others there. Funny - in the military we were all a bunch
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of nonconformists who hated wearing a uniform. Now, we all dress alike -
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faded field jackets, combat boots. Some wore boonie hats, others had their
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medals on their clothes. Lots of Purple Hearts. Some Distinguished Service
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Crosses, Bronze Stars, a few Silver Stars. The faces - some sad, some with
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tears, some filled with hate for what the war had done.
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Like the others, I had left a piece of myself in that war. No matter
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what the weather, I still feel cold when I visit the memories of my friends
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there.
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May we all find peace at last.
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