I was in Washington, D.C. last November on Election Day 2008. I had voted the day before in Minneapolis a day early knowing I’d be in the capitol. The day was wrapped in a chenille grey blanket that was thick with autumn mist. I pictured the millions of people busily making a choice between two names; the one name they hoped would move their world towards something better. I walked the length of the national mall, alone, on this historic day. The tremor of anticipation stirred everything; it was unlike anything I have ever felt.
The following, however, is not about those other two names the world considered that day. It’s about a name you have likely never heard of before, or likely will remember after reading my writing. It’s about a man I met in a moment of reflection, a glossy scab upon which I see myself every day since in the screen saver on my cell phone. His name is Dale R. Buis. His is the first name listed on the wall of the Vietnam Memorial.
Major Buis was born August 29, 1921 in Pender, Nebraska. He was part of the Military Assistance Advisory Group sent in 1955 to train South Vietnam troops. He was killed at Bien Hoa, 20 miles northeast of Saigon. The Vietcong ambushed a mess hall where he and the other American officers were watching a movie. He was killed July 8th, 1959. The first soldier to day in the Vietnam war. The rest of the story plays out in celluloid memories, like an R-rated film: Restricted due to excessive and graphic violence.The monument rises, as if gutted from the ground; an ebony scab confronting your visual horizon. But it is not until you get closer that you realize the polished black granite holds the names of every soldier who was killed. 1959-1975. Each name meticulously carved into the granite tablets. Humbly presented. Quietly considered. Immovable, it weathers time, cleansed only by the seasons, tears and tributes left leaning against the structure. The pictures and folded messages eventually fade, wilt and tumble away down the neatly swept sidewalks. The names and blackness remain in timeless salute.
I couldn’t find a picture of Dale R. Buis on the Internet. Maybe I just didn’t take enough time. But, here is what I did find, for real: Approximately 940,000 Americans died in World War I (approximately 8-9 million people in total died). Approximately 418,000 American soldiers died in World War II (approximately 50-70 million people in total died). Approximately 36,500 Americans died in the Korean War (2.5 million people died in total). Approximately 82,600 Americans died in the Vietnam War (approximately 1.1 million people died in total). 4,302 Americans have died (so far) in the Iraq War (approximately 92K -100K people have died in total…so far). I do not know any of their names.
I know Dale R. Buis. I only know him because I took the time to stop, look and remember. I only know that his is one name too many, for real.
So, let me ask you a question: What do you think might be the right response the next time we complain about the price of gas, the price for that loaf of bread, the price of our homes or everything else the value of which we seem to be losing?
On the ride home today: The train home from the Minneapolis airport passes alongside a large military cemetery. I have passed it hundreds of times noticing the headstones in perfect alignment and the plastic flowers that sit year round by some of those names that are remembered. Plastic flowers. Maybe it’s time to get real.
This Memorial Day I will not remember the food, beer, or day of paid vacation. I will remember the memorial day. I remain in salute.
For emphasis.
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When I visited DC May 2008 I also went through all the War Memorials - and was moved as a human being by the tribute paid to the fallen by their nation. Not being American didn't matter one iota. These people served not only their own nation, but acted for the freedom of a captive world. They paid the price for their heroism, and quite rightly are remembered in this way. Many visit these memorials just as tourists - but come away challenged by what they've seen, as Brian was. When I visited the Vietnam memorial there were countless families searching for the names of loved ones - showing their children the names, despite the boredom shown on these young ones' faces - memorials to people they didn't know, and don't care about - but I KNOW that in future years they will remember the moment they came face to face with a name that meant something to their family, and remember hopefully with pride at the loss, but with sadness that at the time it didn't touch their world.
ReplyDeleteI remember taking my mother to the D Day landing beaches in Northern France - thinking she would find it interesting, having lived through two world wars, but she dissolved in tears, remembering how many people she had known who had died on those beaches, and during the wars. But should I have taken her? I didn't want to cause her pain, but I felt her grief and understood her sorrow - and realised how much the fallen had done for me too.
May God comfort those who mourn, and uphold those who still fight today against injustice and the oppressors of this world.
Kate: thank you so much for this heartfelt moment shared. I personally think it was a good thing to take your mom. Hard to walk through the pain of loss to get to the joy of what we gained through such porfound sacrifice.
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