Some thoughts from October 18, 2004 that brought back memories of an old neighbor who passed on July 3, 2021.
I waited with my mom and dad at the VA hospital while my dad
was having some exams. As I sat in the
waiting room, I started talking with a woman who was waiting for her husband
who was also having an exam. She told me
about a book she recently came across that was written by her husband’s
lieutenant from the Vietnam War. She had
first heard about the book from a friend who was reading it and then called her
to tell her that the book had mentioned her husband. The woman did not believe that her husband
could be mentioned in a book, but then read the book and found out it was
true.
The book was about the experiences of a young lieutenant
while he served in Viet Nam during the war.
I asked her what part her husband played in the book and she told me
that her husband was only eighteen when he went to war. He was assigned as a machine gunner in the lieutenant’s
unit. The lieutenant had stepped on a
land mine called a “Bouncing Betty” that was designed to “jump” up out of the
ground and then explode. Apparently, the
lieutenant had two legs and an arm blown off by “Betty”. Her husband had gone over to the lieutenant
and asked if there was anything he could do to help him and the lieutenant
asked him to go pick up his arm as he did not want to leave it lying in the
jungle. So, he went and got the arm and
placed it on the stretcher next to the lieutenant. As the helicopter was landing to take the
wounded lieutenant away, one of the soldiers carrying him became nauseous and
slipped and as a result the lieutenant’s detached arm fell to the ground once
more. Her husband again picked up the
arm and placed it back with the lieutenant on the stretcher.
The woman talked about how reading the book had helped her
to finally understand some of what her husband had been through in
Vietnam. She mentioned that she had told
her children that their father’s experiences in the war had shaped who he had
become. The woman said that reading
about the act of kindness her husband had done helped her to see the acts of
kindness he had done in his life since then.
Her eyes filled with tears when she talked about the kindness in her
husband. When her husband returned, I said goodbye to the woman, and then her
husband whom I had not met before came up to me and shook my hand. As I looked into his eyes, I could see that
he was indeed a very kind man.
Later in the day we sat in another waiting area and I
noticed a poster taped to the window over the chairs where my parents sat. The poster read, “VA Cares; about veterans
exposed to ionizing radiation, we have programs to help you”. The poster went on to list some telephone
numbers and web sites that could be contacted for more information. It seemed ironic that an organization would
show its concern for veterans by proclaiming that they cared on a poster and
then sending them for help by going to a web site or calling a telephone
number. Was not caring something that
human beings were supposed to do with each other face to face? When had it
become easier to use posters, computers, or telephones to do the caring for
us? It seemed to me that if we really
cared about veterans, why did we continue to send them to war, or only post our
concern if they became ill from exposure to weapons meant to kill our
enemy? It was unfortunate that we used
the veterans first and then cared for them later if they came back wounded or
sick. Would it make a difference if we
cared for them face to face, before we sent them off to war?
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