They were boys. They were so young,not even old enough to drink off-base,two of them. They are on this wall, those three boys of my youth. They will be forever young in my mind,unlike ex-husbands or relatives. Michael,Gus and Luke were never able to grow up and see what life held for them,unlike me. So today it is thoughts of them, and how they would be now,staring middle age in the face like I am. Dealing with the problems and enjoying the good things that life has when you get past the age of worrying about the rat race.
No war before Vietnam affected me. My father served in Korea but was in the Navy and therefore on a ship. He served for 20 years,he was deployed during the cuban missle crisis. But this war, the Vietnam war, it affected me by taking childhood friends in the beginning of their manhood. Michael jumped in the lake once to save me from drowning. He then proclaimed I was not really drowning, I just wanted his arms around me..he was right of course.
These three boys did not go willingly. They were drafted. I remember sitting in the dark,watching the lottery no one wanted to win. I remember the gasps when someone's number came up. I remember the silence when no one knew what to say. I lived in a military town, Lompoc,outside of Vandenberg AFB. But no one really wanted to go,they could see the war each night on the news, the living room war as it was called. But they went.
Demand the truth,don't let our government hide behind a wall of secrecy. We owe it to them, the ones that went inspite of their feelings,or those that went because of them.Unlike our President..they went over there and died over there. They deserve the truth,even now...especially now. Demand Truth.
