Monday, May 25, 2009

Memorial Day, 2009...Forever Young



Philadelphia

May you always be courageous
Stand upright and be strong
And may you stay... forever young.

Bob Dylan

It's all of our hope, isn't it?
I sit in the stillness of the early morning listening to Joan Baez sing the Dylan classic while the rest of the house is asleep wondering about the world today.

I know this is the day to remember those who fought for our freedom. The ones who will never grow old, who will be forever young.

The Vietnam War was the war of my generation. And spending nearly two months in SEAsia brought back all of the memories. Through the magic of television, it was the first war with extensive, nearly immediate coverage. So, the nightly news showed horrific videos of monks burning themselves alive in the name of peace. There was the now famous image of a young Vietnamese man on his knees, hands tethered behind his back, while a soldier from the opposing army put an automatic weapon to his temple, pulled the trigger, and the world watched as he slumped then crumbled to the pavement. There was the nightly report of the number of American soldiers who died that very day somewhere fighting in the land surrounding the same Mekong River I journeyed up just two months ago.

During my time in Vietnam, the War Museum in Ho Chi Minh City brought more of the war back to me. Two downed US fighter jets and a US rescue helicopter are the mainstays of the entrance to the museum, emblematic to the Vietnamese of their conquest of the invading American forces. Inside there are display cases lined up with artifacts of war such as the specific types of hand grenades used by both sides. Or various types of land mines including a graphic description of the destruction they levied on their victims-- both Vietnamese and American.

I was opposed to that war but never to the soldiers who had to fight in those days of conscription. And after spending nights sitting in the dark on the Mekong, riding in longboats through the narrow channels that led to villages deep in the jungle, I have more compassion for those soldiers than ever. I cannot imagine what emotion must have swept over them as they were airdropped into the jungle--especially as the war went on and it was clear that this was not going to be as easy as the administration had billed it to be.

This is a different time. With wars in Iraq and Afghanistan in the midst of a worldwide recession and palpable fear that the War on Terror will again strike American soil is certainly a reason for angst.
I think that is the challenge. To hold the fear as a reality and still live with the hope of solution, resolution, possibilities for dialogue.

That, I think, is what those men and women before us fought ( and are fighting ) for. A chance for us to do a little bit better at remembering the difficult but immensely moving examples of Gandhi and ML King, of the peace treaties that have succeeded.

That is my hope today. That one day, we can all be home for Memorial Day.

Then all of us, warriors and peacekeepers, can dream together the dream of remaining forever young.

M.C.



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