Bring it on, John
Oliver North (archive)
August 27, 2004 |
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"Of course, the president keeps telling people he would never
question my service to our country. Instead, he watches as a Republican-funded
attack group does just that. Well, if he wants to have a debate about our
service in
Dear John,
As usual, you have it wrong. You don't have a beef with President
Scattered Memories
by Lt. Col. Janis A. Nark
And now the tears come, two and a half decades later. I
ache for all we lost in
I'm no heroine. I joined the Army Nurse Corps to go to
For almost 20 years, I never spoke about that time,
that place - I buried my memories, my anger and a large part of “me” deep, so
deep, just wanting to forget; wanting to feel peace.
I only spoke to Sue about it because she was there too.
Years later in the Army Reserves, once again in fatigues and combat boots out
on field exercises, we'd turn to each other, never making the connection of
physical circumstances. We'd tell each other funny war stories, and we'd laugh.
Then one of us would remember, and share, and then we'd cry. It would be months
or maybe a year before we would repeat the scenario.
In 1982, the
It took me five years to answer. Sue and I went
together. At first, we stayed far away in the trees. “Tree -Vets,” we're
called. Then a picnic on the grass behind. The Wall where we could see the
visitors’ heads moving along as their walk took them deep into the V of the
black granite. Our first frontal maneuver came at night - arm-in-arm,
supporting each other, ready for retreat, we walked the length of those names,
our tears camouflaged by the night. Even there, even then, we rarely spoke about
the war, not even to each other. And we never wore anything or said anything
that identified us as
1992 was the 10th anniversary of the
I carried you with me when I went to The Wall. I had
the strength to be there, but I didn't feel the entitlement. I did put on a
brave front. No raggedy remnants of faded fatigues or sun-bleached boonie hats
for me. I stood heads above the crowd - proud (at long last) in my Class A’s.
My chest of ribbons saying loud and clear, “I'm a vet, too. I was your nurse.
Honor me. Reach out to me. Please, help me to heal.”
And they came. They were there for you Sue. Oh, I wish
you could have been there! You would have been so touched; and it was you who
deserved what I received. God, but it felt so good to cry the tears that for so
long we held, and covered with our laughter, and let the years bury so deep.
They came, the 40-something Vets looking so much older than their years. Some
with the same eyes that we saw back then, the pain still very much with them.
They hugged me and held me, and most smiled through tears as they tried to
speak. They want you to know they remember that you were there for them, and
they're grateful. You saved some of them and cared for them and for their
buddies. They love you. You were their nurse.
I saw him hesitate at the edge of the crowd, then urged
on by a friend the WWI vet came forward. With crippled and deformed hands, he
stood as tall as his 86 years allowed and saluted me. I smiled as my eyes
filled with tears and returned his salute. He was mortified that he might cry.
I hugged him as his friend took our picture. He spoke volumes in the simple
words, “Thank you.”
It was a strange deja vu. Remember when the GIs would
always take our pictures? They still do. And all those eyes looking at us - how
we learned to look right in them and say, “It’s okay, you’re gonna be just
fine.”
It’s not so hard to see The Wall now, to be near it, to
feel its presence, to feel their absence. We’re going to be okay. It’s time to
heal, my friend ... to know that you did everything you could, and more; that
it mattered that you touched those lives.
Next year we’ll stand together when the Women’s
Memorial is dedicated, and we can begin to forgive ourselves for our imagined
slights and shortcomings and our human frailties. And we can begin the process
of healing ourselves and coming to peace with our memories. I love you, my
friend.
Veterans Day 1993, the Vietnam Veterans Women’s
Memorial was dedicated in Washington,D.C. Thousands of women vets attended, and
we were overwhelmed. We led the parade - the nurses, Red Cross workers,
entertainers, women who worked in supply, administration, logistics and
intelligence. The streets were lined with people applauding and crying. A vet
sat high up on a tree branch yelling, “Thank! Thank you!” A man in a flight
suit stood at attention for over two hours, saluting as the women passed by.
People handed us flowers and hugged us. One GI had a picture of his nurse taken
July, 1964. He was trying to find her.
The women veterans find each other. We know, at last,
that we are not alone, that we are not paranoid or crazy, but that we have a
lot of work to do in order to heal. We talk to each other and find comfort as
well as pain in our words and our tears. Now after so many years, the process
has finally begun and we hold each other close and say, “Welcome home.”
LT. COL. JANIS A NARK
John Kerry done and said so many terrible things about
our returning Vietnam Veterans in 1970 and later, we cannot forgive him, let
alone vote for him. His sick and twisted mind caused many emotional scare on
many of Vietnam vets. He then joined with his Communist friends, and made tape
recordings to be played to our P O W 's, damning our military and this Nation.
He "Kerry" said the United State form of Democracy was a farce and
there is a better way, These are communist teachings. He cannot be trusted to
be our Commander in Chief of this great Nation, with such a background he
cannot pass a security clearance.
Some people like Ted Kennedy and Nancy Polosi deserve
him, just don't expect the rest of us to accept him.
www.unionvets.com