Why? Indeed.

Shame on me.
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I rode down there with a heart still hardened from last night. Should never let that happen, never let someone else dictate how you feel.

We stood the flagline, lining both sides of the street and even up on the wide walkway leading into the church. Had to be over 50 flags flying as the family rode by and entered.

After all were inside we went across the road to get our ride briefing. At the end, we were heard the names of the new riders and the blue star and gold star parents that were with us. Before we broke up, we were asked "Why are you here? Think about it."

For a change, I was one of the ones that rode ahead to the cemetery to set up and prepare for the arrival of our hero and the rest. As we stood there, we all decided to take shelter from the sun under the canopy of the cedars that lined the roadway. To the west of the cemetery running alongside the street is a fence and across the street is another part of the cemetery. We noticed that they too were set up to honor a soldier. We were cooling off, drinking water, talking in small groups, some lying on the grass, others sitting rather unceremoniously on headstones. The hearse came in and their hero was was brought about. While their ceremony ensued, we ended up, as a unit, standing, watching intently, reverently. By the time the 21 gun salute went off and Taps was played, we were all standing at attention, hand salute or hand over heart from across the road. Why?

We lined up with the flags again, along the entrance, maybe the length of a football field. Our hero with family, friends and others concerned moved in front of us down to his final resting place. Once they were there, we surrounded them with a huge circle of flags.

This young man. He wasn't the type to whine about the things in his life that weren't how he wanted them. How life owed him this and that. He was all about life and the future. He had enlisted in the Army less than a year ago. Enthusiastic about learning and going to school and raising his year old son, Isaiah.

I strained to hear the list of his accomplishments. He had completed over 100 route clearance missions since January 23rd of this year. Bronze Star, Purple Heart, Good Conduct Medal and many more. Not bad. I'm sure he never thought much about todays activities, sounds to me like he was busy not doing things for glory and honor, but in order to keep others from having to do them.

Last Saturday, while engaged in yet another road clearance mission, an ememy ambush attacked the rear of the vehicle, where SPC Alexis Vicente Maldonado was a gunner. He was one month and four days past his 20th birthday.

I stood there looking at the white hair under the VFW cap, the long grey ponytail and whiskers of the VietNam vet, the crisp uniform and fresh faces of our volunteer military. This man wasn't just a son to Alicia and Jesse, he was a son to all of us.

The sweet Texas summer sprinkle started, it was cooling and would mask the tears. It would also soften the ground where this young man, full of life and promise would be laid to rest. When the bottom fell out, we all stood there and maybe I'm crazy, but I would swear that the spirit of that kid exploded out and he was pointing at us and laughing and shouting "I'm free, I'm home! Thank you all and now maybe you should be on your way."

Why would someone burn a day of vacation, ride for an hour and a half, to attend a funeral for someone they didn't even know?

Why? Indeed.

A Part of History

Seems like everone was talking about the day making history.
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When that Cobra came over the hill, it was plowing up the ground and those quad .50's were giving anything in their path worse than a bad day. His brothers on the ground were very happy to see him, but one young man took as careful aim as his elevated heart rate and respiration would allow and brought that perveyor of death to the ground in an awful crash of metal against earth. It was the day after Chief Warrant Officer Donald L. Wann turned 34. Then........for a reason only another soldier would understand..........he came back the next day. Found the man he had taken the life of....and laid him in a mortar crater. Soldier to soldier, something you and I could never comprehend. Thats the reason I've never been foolish enough to ask "Did you kill anyone in the war?" These men were doing what they were told to do. For the North Vietnamese it was "protect and defend" for the American soldier it was........"protect and defend". All for what could be considered a mere stipend and maybe a bag of rice or a small cardboard box with a few tins and maybe a foil pack.

Our hero was a volunteer before there was a volunteer army. While others were heading for Canada escaping the government telling them "lets go', he was pulling on his boots and saying "lets go." He had already served 11 years in the Navy. He was on his second tour of VietNam. 37 yrs later, the very man who had ended his days returned once again, with others to show where the young man fell, and they brought him home.

I was one of those proud and happy to be there. I was somewhere in the middle of the 500 or so motorcycles chasing the pine box through the streets of Muskogee, Oklahoma heading toward their "garden of stone". Passing through the throngs of people standing along side the road saluting and waving flags. Past the little blond girl, in her tiny left hand, an American flag...her little right hand held across her heart. The high school age African American boy, standing on his porch at attention, saluting as we rode by. The grey haired man, in his overalls, straw hat at his side also at attention, also saluting. All through town,the serpentine line was met with more and more, like the folks from the real estate office, standing with their hands over their hearts and the guys from the tire store and others. All lined up in the hot Oklahoma summer sun to pay their respects to one of their own.

Inside the National Cemetery, CWO Wann was transferred to a horse drawn caisson where he was carried to a pavilion. There as we gathered as close as we could, leaving room for the family and his brothers from 'Nam, we heard an invocation. The drums and bagpipes played Amazing Grace. There was the chilling moment when the flag was presented to Mr. Wann's daughter, followed by the 21 gun salute. The mournful call of Taps. Once the young man was loaded back on the caisson, we walked....to the sound of the horse's hooves, the haunting, but somewhat comforting toll of the Texas Liberty Bell all leading up the hill. And the flyover of the Blackhawks, missing man formation. The dozen or so brothers in arms at attention, saluting while a young Navy Color Guard member softly sang America the Beautiful as Chief Warrant Officer Donald L. Wann was lowered slowly into the soft Oklahoma red dirt of his youth. Releasing his soul to wander forever across the endless fields in the hot summer sun and to sit and cool his feet in the tree draped streams.

Rest easy soldier and ............welcome home.

There are still over 1500 soldiers listed as MIA from the VietNam War.