On July 9, 1967, Capt. Ed Y. Hall, of the U.S. Army penned the following words as he awaited his transfer out of Vietnam:
“Being away from one’s family, when that individual is a “family man” is a hard road to follow. I am a family man and this experience of being away from my family has made me a more dedicated father and husband-I hope. I will never forget the dark days of looking ahead on my tour and the feelings of despair as I thought of the seemingly endless days ahead for as long as I live.”
Upon returning to Memphis, Tenn., from Vietnam in 1969, Dr. Byron Holley, a U.S. Army medic, wrote the following: “As I sat in the boarding area waiting for my long-anticipated flight to Memphis and Sondra (Holley’s wife), I thought about how lucky I was to be coming home without having earned a Purple Heart (the medal one earns for being wounded in combat). Well, I may not have a Purple Heart to display on my chest, but I am coming home with a bruised and broken heart from what I have experienced. I’m sure time will do much to heal these wounds, but the memories will remain forever.”
“Doc” Holley continued: “I have just given my country one of the most incredible years of my young life. Thank God, I didn’t have to give it all. Lots of fine young men did, and I had the privilege of living and fighting with some of them, of saving some of them, of bleeding and crying with some of them, and mine were the last eyes some of them looked into as they laid down their young lives. My life will never be the same because of them. May God rest their young souls!”
In his memoir “Reluctant Warrior,” Marine Lieutenant Michael C. Hodgins,wrote the following about his comrades in Vietnam: “I left them, feeling guilt and remorse at my good fortune, on Aug. 14, 1970. I’ve thought about them often over the years. The bond we formed is as strong today as then. They were ordinary young Americans from all walks of life who answered their nation’s call to arms, endured unimaginable hardships and accomplished extraordinary feats in a war whee the outcome had already been predetermined. They fought and suffered for no personal gain, with no aspirations other than to survive and come home. It was a goal I shared with them.”
Lieutenant Frank Elkins, a pilot with the U.S. Navy, wrote these words on Oct. 12, 1966 in a letter to his wife: “You can’t know how much I wish I were there. Won’t be long.” The next day, Lt. Elkins was shot down over North Vietnam. Twenty-three years later, his body was finally brought home.
I thought, in light of current events, that it would behoove us to remember that this war, like all wars, is being fought by people. People with families. People with children. People who need our love and support, now more than ever. Now is not the time for hurtful words and angry rhetoric. Let us also not kid ourselves; war is not a game. It is a dangerous endeavor.
Kate Cumming, a nurse at the Confederate hospital in Corinth, Miss., wrote the following words about her war experience in 1862: “Nothing that I have ever heard or read had given me the faintest idea of the horrors witnessed here.” The people in our military know these horrors well, more so than any of us ever will. Yet, they do not shirk from their duty when called. What they have given us, we can never repay. The least we can do is stand behind them now when they need us the most.
To the families of those who have lost loved ones already, you have our support, our love, and our gratitude. To the American men and women currently being held captive behind enemy lines, allow me to quote a song by U2:
“What you got they can’t steal it. No they can’t even feel it. Walk on, Stay safe tonight.” Hold on, help is on the way.
Tony Odom is a graduate student in the history department.