There is a sadness that oozes
through my bones on this Memorial day.
As I look back, teary eyed, to my first day in Viet Nam, I
remember the letter I wrote to my then 17 year old brother, telling him that on
that night in July 1972, the Vietnamese mothers of the boys we killed would be crying.
On days like
today, we remember the soldiers who gave their lives, and we need to remember
also, the mothers and fathers who
suffer deeply because their children are dead.
War is not healthy for children
and other living things.
I'm glad I was able to call in the courage I needed
to file for a discharge as a conscientious objector. I served two tours in Viet Nam. For as horrible as they were, those tours
contributed to my becoming the blessing that I am today.
