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It was a trip he made often - at least twice a month - and always on his own. He walked slowly, carefully so as not to disrupt the calmness or the silence that could only be observed at this time. He had an unset ritual; mostly the same but changed by his emotions each trip. The trip always came with a range of emotions: guilt and pride, anger and happiness, hatred and thankfulness, rage and peace. They flowed from one right into the next but they were still distinct.
He could feel the tears start to well up in his eyes and his chest become tight as he approached the first brass soldier. He stopped and saluted before moving on. He stepped gingerly toward the long, dark slab of wall that would take him to another place and time. He sighed heavily and raised his gaze from his feet to the first name etched into the wall. He studied it carefully, giving it - and the person that had been known by it - the time, respect, and consideration it deserved and, he suspected, rarely received. He tried to envision a story for this name - where he was from, what led up to his departure for Vietnam, and finally what caused his name to now appear here, on The Wall. He continued this ritual for every name he read, it allowed him to feel closer to these men that were otherwise unknown to him. With each passing name, he was taken further and further back in his memory to his own experiences in Vietnam. The sound of helicopters in the distance filled his mind, a sticky heat surrounded his body and the smells of the jungle, blood, and human bodies alive and not flooded and mixed in his nose. All of the names on the wall had experienced at least one of these sensations while in Vietnam regardless of how long or short their tour had been.
Every so often he came across a name that seemed familiar even though he couldn't always put a face or real memory to it. In the stories he made for these names they were usually part of Team Viking.
Memories of the Team came flooding back to him in a whir. Memories of bonding and breaking bonds, crying and listening to others cry, and sharing laughs in a situation where they were hard to come by. He wasn't sure if it was right to come out of a war with fond memories although he had a few. Not many, but enough to keep him going. His fondest memories were those of seeing his fellow servicemen leave alive. Glancing down the length of the wall he knew that far more had left dead than the number he had seen leave alive.
He had come to the only name on the wall that he really knew. He knew some of the person's history, he knew where, when, and how he died. He knew the effect it had on the others in his unit but he still wasn't sure he knew why he died. Why any of the men on The Wall died. At least they were saved from coming home to be spit on, called names and lied to by the people they thought they were protecting.
He reached out and gently moved his fingers over the letters before him. The memory was etched into his mind just as the letters that made the name were etched into the cold surface. A tear slid down his cheek as he stood there, looking at the name. He didn't try to hide or hold back a tear; he cried them all out in the dark by himself. He took a small metal instrument he had been carrying out of his pocket and blew a note on it. He held it for awhile, feeling its weight and coolness against his palm before laying it to rest at the base of the wall.
The nightmare of this man's death still haunted him far more than any other. He knew he would never, and could never forget it. That was the reason for the trip - so nobody here would ever be forgotten.
But this name made life difficult. It stared back at him from the cold black wall, never to move again, feel life again. And he knew that he had to continue living for the men here that couldn't. It had to be that way. He hoped he'd understand.
When he felt ready, he moved on down the wall, but the name was firmly planted in the back of his mind. JAKE KUSLITS. Stepping away from the wall, he whispered, "I'm sorry." And for the first time, he felt forgiven.
~End~