A statue of three searching soldiers guards those lost in the Vietnam War. Bearing flowers, flags, and candles, they came to honor once more. And I thought as I read all those thousands of names on that shiny black granite Wall, It's good that at last we remembered that they died because America called. Wearing jungle fatigues and a boony hat he pushed his wheelchair to the Wall. Talking to himself he read off the names of the men that he'd seen fall. Friendships he found only in war, while facing death each day. Where the value of life was endeared by the price of watching it slip away. Remembering the explosion that took his legs and fears too long concealed, He said, "As I sit by this Wall I feel one of my wounds is finally beginning to heal." As she placed a rose beside the Wall, once again I heard a Mother cry. After tears of pain and years of shame at last her tears flowed with pride. Knowing he died believing he was doing what was right, what his country had asked him to do. She was proud that he'd given the best that he had for the good old "Red, White and Blue." And I thought as I read all those thousands of names on that shiny black granite Wall, It's good that at last we remembered that they died because America called. emily strange ©1982