The Human Stain

The following poem was left at this wall a few weeks ago in Ohio, and I'd like to share it with you. 'We remember you, smiling, proud, strong / You told us not to worry / We remember those last hugs and kisses ...'" And when that speech was over, there was another to come. "... but with this wall of names behind me, and as I look out into the crowd and see the faces of middle-aged men like me, some of them wearing medals and other remnants of a military uniform, and I see a slight sadness in their eyes—maybe that's what's left of the thousand-yard stare which we all picked up when we were just brother grunts, infantrymen, ten thousand miles away from home—when I see all this, I am somehow transported back thirty years. This traveling monument's permanent namesake opened on the Mall in Washington on November 13, 1982. It took me roughly about two and a half years to get there. Looking back over that time, I know, like many Vietnam veterans, I stayed away on purpose, because of painful memories that I knew it would conjure up.

And so on a Washington evening, when dusk was settling, I went over to the Wall by myself. I left my wife and children at the hotel-we were on our way back from Disney World—and visited, stood alone at its apex, close to where I'm standing right now. And the memories came—a whirlwind of emotions came. I remembered people I grew up with, played ball with, who are on this wall, right here from Pittsfield. I remembered my radio operator, Sal. We met in Vietnam. We played the where-you-from game. Massachusetts.

Massachusetts. Whereabouts in Massachusetts? West Springfield he was from. I said I was from Pittsfield. And Sal died a month after I left. I came home in April, and I picked up a local newspaper, and I saw that Sal was not going to meet me in Pittsfield or Springfield for drinks. I remembered other men I served with..."

And then there was a band—an army infantry band most likely —playing the "Battle Hymn of the Green Berets," which led Louie to conclude that it was best to wait till the ceremony was completely over before getting Les out of the van. Louie had timed their arrival so they wouldn't have to deal with the speeches or the emotional music, but the program had more than likely started late, and so they were still at it. Looking at his watch, though, seeing it was close to noon, he figured it must be near the end. And, yep—suddenly they were finishing up. The lone bugle playing taps. Just as well.

Hard enough to hear taps standing out on the street amid all the empty buses and the cop cars, let alone to be right there, with all the weeping people, dealing with taps and the Wall. There was taps, agonizing taps, the last awful note of taps, and then the band was playing "God Bless America," and Louie could hear the people at the Wall singing along—"From the mountains, to the prairies, to the oceans, white with foam"—and a moment later it was over.

Inside the van, Les was still shaking, but he didn't appear to be looking behind him all the time and only occasionally was he look- ing over his head for "the things," and so Louie climbed awkwardly back up inside and sat down next to him, knowing that the whole of Les's life was now the dread of what he was about to find out, and so the thing to do was to get him there and get it done with.

"We're going to send Swift in advance, Les, to find Kenny for you.

It's a pretty long wall. Better than you having to go through all those names, Swift and the guys'll go over and locate it in advance.

The names are up there on panels in the order of time. They're up there by time, from first guy to last guy. We got Kenny's date, you gave us the date, so it won't take too long now to find him."

"I ain't doin' it."

When Swift came back to the van, he opened the door a crack and said to Louie, "We got Kenny. We found him."

"Okay, this is it, Lester. Suck it up. You're going to walk over there. It's around back of the inn. There are going to be other folks there doing the same thing we're doing. They had an official little ceremony, but that's finished and you don't have to worry about it.

No speeches. No bullshit. It's just going to be kids and parents and grandparents and they are all going to be doing the same thing.

They're going to be laying wreaths of flowers. They're going to be saying prayers. Mostly they're going to be looking for names.

They're going to be talking among themselves like people do, Les.

Some of them are going to be crying. That's all that's there. So you know just what's there. You're going to take your time but you're coming with us."