Letters from Vietnam

Last weekend my daughter Madison and I were sorting through mounds of pictures I have of my family. My two older children will be graduating next May, and we needed pictures for their yearbook. As I pulled down one of the many boxes from my bedroom closet, I noticed a stack of letters I didn't recognize, held in a quart-sized ziploc bag. There must have been about 50 or so. Glancing at the address and postmarked date on the front of the first letter, I realized that these were letters my grandmother had received from my father while he was on his first and second tours in Vietnam with the Army.

I have no idea how I have these letters. I don't remember my grandmother giving them to me before she died, and I've never read them before. I don't have hardly anything from my dad. He passed away when I was 16 years old. Needless to say, I held the stack of treasures to my heart and absolutely wept.

This morning I spent the first two hours sitting in bed reading slowly through every word he wrote. There are things in these letters I never knew about my dad...like he planned to be a Minister of Music one day. He loved taking pictures, and would send my grandmother slides of all the places he would go. How I wish I had those slides! And at one point, he was finally forced to engage the enemy. He must have received a medal for this experience, and these were his thoughts on the matter:

"Mom, about the medals and all that riff-raff. For my own part, I don't want any. All they are good for is to wear on your dress uniform and have some yo-yo come up and ask what they are and how you got them. I know what I have done and I hope someday to forget. I'm sure not proud of what is done in order to get a piece of tin for your chest. Most people at home don't understand what war is all about. They don't know how it is to be made into a human "god" with power over life and death. Or to sometimes see a helicopter with friends of yours start taking rounds and finally to go down in an inaccessible place and finally to know that there's nothing in your power to help them - except pray. No, Mom, I'm not a hero because I have a heart and a conscience. Heroes have only ice-water where blood should be."

There are stories he held in his heart that tormented him severely when he would sleep at night. But again and again he would say that it was worth it. He was protecting his family back home...protecting the freedoms we enjoy and often take for granted. We owe them so much.

Today our country is celebrating Veteran's Day. I can't tell you how proud I am of the men in my family who have served this fine country, and the women who have faithfully stood behind them. When I look at our flag, it is a constant reminder of the blood, sweat and tears our men and women of the armed forces have committed to seeing her continue to fly for the next generation.

Please join me in honoring our veterans today...and every day.