by
Col. Ed Danowitz, USMC (ret)
Director of the Combined Action Program
FOR ALL THAT SERVED IN VIETNAM
and as each name was nobly read in voice heard only by the dead,
each one in proud response confirmed that they were there in
honor earned,
yet still prepared to fill such task as comrades might of each one ask.
But, could the living dare implore those sacred dead to serve once more?
To form again and march in ranks in place of those who heard no thanks,
who fought the war, who stood in place, yet on return met but disgrace,
who heard each curse, who took the blame for those who caused a
nations shame.
Was it not right for those who served to seek respect as each deserved?
Yet such respect could but befall from those whose names engraved
the wall.
So each agreed to honor yield to those who lived with wounds unhealed,
to march for each, to ease the pain, for each a hero's tribute gain.
Then with the call..."Form for review!"
Each from the wall their name withdrew to leave it somber, lonely, bare,
protected still by God's own care.
The parade was formed, the march course set, now all the fallen once more met, in proud reunion, to march with pride in silent, metered, saintly stride.
Those souls, from human bond set free moved with immortal dignity as shadows O'er each throng filed street paced by a drummers solemn beat,
but mortal eyes could not behold those marching, as marched saints of old, and only could those with due's paid bear witness to
this last parade.
In admiration hero's rose, from battles past, against old foe's, from Valley Forge and Bunker Hill, Gettysburg, and Chancellorsville.
Washington, Jackson, Grant and Lee reviewed the march with solemnity.
And those who held the Alamo joined men who bled in white French snow, at Soissons, Marne, and Belleau Wood.
Thus Crockett and Pershing together stood
.....and the parade passed on.
Pearl Harbor's heros to a man rose with all those who fought Japan at Guadacanal, Siapan, the Philippines with MacArthur and the brave marines who raised the flag on Iwo's sand to mark the corps determined stand. Wainwright was joined by hundreds more forced from Bataan, Corregidor, to march ignoble, frought with pain to die when strength dared not remain
.....and the dead marched on.
Now Eisenhower with a soldier's pride viewed the parade, while at his side stood Patton and the valiant score who were flung upon a Norman's shore. As a nation prayed these hero's fought with inspiration wach soul wrought. They faced the Bugle, they crossed the Rhine to form one final battle line, then drove to meet a victor's fate in the shadows of the Brandenberg Gate.
.....and the ranks marched on.
Brothers of "The Forgotten War" who remembered Inchon, The Reservoir where as the heat of battle rose on this cold front they fought, they froze, not asking what be freedoms price or who should make the sacrifice. They held at Seoul, with faith drove on to hold the line at Panmunjon. All stood in tribute, to the man, for each could truly understand for they that marched, marched for them too to help restore past honors due.
....and the parade moved on.
And in the distance massed a crowd, shadowed by a sinful shroud, to hide those priviledged from the war who burrowed deep on foreign shore, they dared crawl out, and returned to savor life and rights unearned. And with them sharing equal blame were those who claimed to share no blame, whose protests turned our nations flag into a jumbled, burning rag, who scorned and mocked those with the right to serve their land, to join the fight. Each found deferment from the call in an ivy covered campus hall.
And those possessed of the greatest hate went to Hanoi, the Kremlin Gate to denounce our land with ignominy, and with treason aid the enemy. They dared not now look and face the marching lines, to know disgrace the presence noble men provoke to those who dare not take the yoke. The marching ranks looked but ahead, each step in cadence of the dead, but every soul one thought did share:
Blest I am here..not with them there.
.....and the dead marched on.
Across the bridge to Arlington the line moved on and stood as one in homage at the sacred flame that honors heroes without name. Now each who marched a new name read in the in voices echoed by the dead to call here present souls alive, of men who fought and yet survived who still bore scars in flesh and mind whose hearts sought but true peace to find. Here each soul learned as the flame grew, it burned to honor those men too. Could not this privilege be proscribed by comrades that had fought and died? Could not immortal men proclaim the honors those deprived may claim? Yes, thoe unnamed now join to share with those who marched one final prayer:
In brotherhood we all are one, Eternal Lord, thy will be done.
The task complete, a buglar played the funeral notes to end parade, and each who marched now left the ranks to cross old proud Potomac's banks as on the wall in death endeared, the names of each, once more appeared that living comrades joined in prayer, might know the honors heroes share.
