A Pause Before the Last Goodbye

A PAUSE BEFORE THE LAST GOODBYE

By A. Garcia-Wiltse

How vivid still the memories.  How powerful the visions of chaos and commotion.  How potent the smell of war – of death – of fear.  How intense the sensation of exhausted courage and lost boldness.  And how unnerving to feel the frailty of human vulnerability and defenselessness.  All forever etched into a mind that once thought, felt, saw and bled -- like a solider in war.

For a soldier – any soldier – the mind is the ultimate weapon – the ultimate defense – the ultimate armor.  It is a soldier’s mind that is the ultimate sentinel -- the watchman – the spotter – the scout.  That innate mental ability to sense, to perceive and to discern the security and safety of the place, the moment, the circumstance. 

For many of us – the place, the moment, the circumstance – was Vietnam.  The Mekong Delta to be precise.  Burned into the very essence of who we were – and who we are.  Vietnam -- once a piece of tropical exotic paradise -- turned into a burning inferno of human dreams.  And for American soldiers – a playground of cowboys and Indians – of gladiators and fire-breathing dragons – of good versus evil.  But unlike the childish make-believe games once played in backyards, neighborhood streets and city parks – this time – there were no “do-overs” – no retakes or replays.  And sadly – in this paradise of deceit and deception – the losers never got up – never stood up -- dusted off their pants and their hats and walked away.  And the winners – scurried into the shadows of the night.  Drenched in sweat and fear – and maybe even traces of blood and tears.

Vietnam remains today a legacy of distrust – mistrust – cynicism and contempt.  And the Veterans of Vietnam remain still – the boy soldiers – lost in the abyss of war – of gamesmanship – of manipulation – of exploitation -- of subterfuge.  Their minds forever wounded, maimed and scarred.  Boys and young men and women – used and abused – battered and tattered.  And the reason so simple – so self-evident – so loathsome:  not knowing who we were supposed to be -- the good guys or the bad guys.

And in the end – Vietnam – militarily a cruel study of how not to fight, expand or broaden a war. But for the survivors who served – and for the 58,318 goodbyes never said – and goodbyes never explained – it’s personal.  Too painful to forget.  Too sorrowful to let go.  Too tragic to ignore. 

I remember the yellow ribbons around the old oak tree.  The peace rallies – the peace marches.  The vocal protests and the sit-ins.  But most of all – I feel the guilt within -- at not having said goodbye to so many friends and comrades who walked into the night – and never came back.  A pause before the last goodbye that my mind will not forget.  But then – I tell myself – we were soldiers – trained to fight – and taught to die and fade away – not to say goodbye.