Vn

[Keith_Hixson]

Hang in there! We are all supporting you and praying for you.

Never was in combat. But, I occassionally get a flashback from Medic work. The ones I didn't save, especially the teenagers in car wrecks. Bothers me off and on. But since you work EMS you understand that also.

I going to say a few prayers for you in the next couple of days, you'll be just fine.

Keith

[39mto39g]

This stems from a day in october 1967 when a very good friend of mine with the 173 was killed in Kontum, just before we (4th inf) arrived for back up. I was part of the team sent to help. We got there just after the mortars and rockets (NVA) and my friend was in a body bag. Now I couldn't do anything for him but I delt with the "what Ifs" for years after that. I was his friend all through High school. My parents and his parents were long time friends and the fact that I was there somehow puts a part of the blame on me. Now I have never been PSID or what ever they call it and I have always been able to deal with what ever comes my way. Its just, Sometimes----------sometimes, I see Gary and say to him, If only, If only.......
That whole damm country ani't worth one Gary.
This, of corse could be the Amareto talking. Tomarrow at work I'll deal with it and continue on, as useuall.

Ron

39MTO

Your post sounds like you have a lot of survivors guilt. I know all about that brother, did I do all I could to keep my buddies, alive, did I do my job right, what went wrong? All these questions go through you mind. I want to post something for you to read. I think a lot of guys have read this poem, I don't know if you have or not. It is called "From the Other Side". It is poem about our fallen brothers on the wall.

So here it goes

At first there was no place for us to go. Until someone put that "Black Granite Wall." Now, every day and night, my brothers and my sisters wait to see the many people from places afar file in front of this "Wall." Many stopping briefly and many for hours and some that come on a regular basis.

It was hard at first, not that it's gotten any easier, but it seems that many attitudes towards that Vietnam War we were involved in have changed.

I can only pray that the ones on the other side have learned something, and more "Walls" as this one needn't be built.

Several members of my unit, and many that I did not recognize, have called me to the Wall by touching my name engraved upon it. The tears aren't necessary, but hard even for me to hold back.

Don't feel guilty for not being with me, my brothers. This was my destiny as it is yours, to be on that side of The Wall.

Touch The Wall, my brothers, so that we can share in the memories that we had. I have learned to put the bad memories aside, and remember only the pleasant times that we had together. Tell our other brothers out there to come and visit me, not to say "goodbye," but to say "hello", and be together again..even for a short time, and to ease that pain of loss that we still share.

Today, an irresistible and loving call summons me to "The Wall." As I approach, I can see an elderly lady...and as I get closer, I recognize her...It's momma! As much as I have looked forward to this day, I have also dreaded it, because I didn't know what reaction I would have.

Next to her, I suddenly see my wife, and immediately think how hard it must have been for her to come to this place. My mind floods with the pleasant memories of thirty years past. There's a young man in military uniform standing with his arm around her...My God!...he has to be my son!

Look at him trying to be the man without a tear in his eye. I yearn to tell him how proud I am, seeing him standing tall, straight and proud in his uniform.

Momma comes closer and touches The Wall, and I feel the soft and gentle touch I had not felt in so many years. And through our touch, I try to convey to her that Dad is doing fine, and is no longer suffering or feeling pain.

I see my wife?s courage building, as she sees Momma touch The Wall. And she approaches and lays her hand on my waiting hand. All the emotions, feelings, and memories of three decades past, flash between our touch, and I tell her that: It's all right...
carry on with your life...and don't worry about me. I can see as I look into her eyes that she hears, and a big burden has been lifted from her, on wings of understanding.

I watch as they lay flowers and other memories of my past. My lucky charm that was taken from me and sent to her by my CO. A tattered and worn teddy bear that I can barely remember having as I grew up...as a child. Several medals that I had earned were presented to my wife. One is the Combat Infantry Badge that I am very proud of, and I notice then my son is also wearing this medal. I had earned mine in the jungles of Vietnam, and he had probably earned his in the deserts of Iraq.

I can tell that they are preparing to leave, and I try to take a mental picture of them together, because I don't know when I will see them again, and can only thank them that I was not forgotten.

My wife and Momma near The Wall for one final touch, and so many years of indecision fear and sorrow are let go. As they turn to leave I feel my tears that had flowed for so many years, form as dew drops on the other side of The Wall. They slowly move away with only a glance over their shoulders. My son suddenly stops and slowly returns. He stands straight and proud in front of me, and snaps a salute! Something draws him near The Wall and he puts his hand upon etched stone and touches my tears that had formed dew drops on the face of The Wall...and i can tell that he senses my presence, and the pride and love I have for him. He falls to his knees and the tears flow from his eyes. I try my best to reassure him that: It's all right and the tears do not make him less of a man. As he moves back wiping the tears from his eyes he silently mouths God Bless you Dad. God Bless you son we will meet someday, but in the meantime go on your way, there is no hurry... There is no hurry at all.

As I see them walk of in the distance I yell out to THEM and EVERYONE there today as loud as I can.... THANK YOU FOR REMEMBERING

And as others on this side of The Wall join in, I notice that the U.S. Flag Old Glory that so proudly flies in front 0f us every day, is flapping and standing proudly straight out in the wind from our gathering numbers this day and we shout again, and again, and again, THANKS FOR REMEMBERING!

Sorry for the typos

[doc628]

Wow.

[phuloi]

Ron,
Thanks for trusting us enough to share this.Sharing helps-No lie.

[frisco-kid]

Ron,

glad you weren't able to delete this. Like you, don't have the dreams REAL often, but it's a bitch when ya' do. You know what you did over there, and that it was your best. That's all we can do, Bud. There's some things that we just don't have any control over. You know this better than alot of us, given your job, and just can't beat yourself up over this stuff too much. I know this will pass for you, but you have my phone number my friend. Always like just shootin' the shit with ya'.

[firemedic]

Ron, appreciate your thread. No need to apologize for it. When I saw my friend's names on the wall, I cried for them, and felt exactly how you feel about your bud Gary. I think the guilt is natural because it's natural to wonder why we came home, married and raised a family, and they didn't. It doesn't make any sense. Every once in a while, I still talk to God about it. I'm thankful for the privilege of saving a few while in VN. At the same time I will live the rest of my days honoring the sacrifice of those who weren't as lucky (blessed). They are the heroes. So, Ron, et al, live like you don't derserve it! Grace and peace.

Hank

[exlrrp]

Originally posted by 39mto39g I have never been PSID or what ever they call it and I have always been able to deal with what ever comes my way.
Ron

Ron old pal and i say this with love: Yr the poster boy for PSID or whatever it is. I got it too and Ive always been able to deal with whatever comes my way, although to varying degrees of well, I must say (Everybody has a bad hair day sometimes). The PSID just gives it a little extra spice, adds that maniacal chuckle to the whole ball of wax when you figure none of us are getting out of here alive anyway.
I just like to dream about the women I doinked in the war--they were scary enough.

yr bro
James

[Tina]

Ron,
Sometimes I lay in bed and I can hear my dad having dreams of Nam.. It hurts me when I hear and I thank God everyday and everynite I still have my dad..Knowing the hole time and saying a prayer for those who don't cause of the STUPID war..
It breaks my heart to know you and all my friends here have dreams about it..I will and always keep each and everyone of you all in my prays..Will pray your dreams leave.. But like my dads dreams they don't go.. When i went to the Wall in D.C. I finnally understood how lucky I truly am..I ment a Man and his lovly wife and their young son who never new his grandfather..I rubbed the wall for them cause they couldn't do it.. I lifted the little boy up so he could touch his grandfathers names.. When we touched I got this chill come over me and heard someone say "thank you".. i sat the little one down and said it wasn't a problem.. The father said sorry we didn't say nothing.. So I know the grandson and grandfather had a connection there.. But my point is my heart goes out to you and everyone else and breaks cause you all have to have these nasty dreams.. Cause of a stupid war..
love ya
Your friend and God Bless,
Tina