Your story has touched my soul. You understand The Wall. It is not a granite thing with carvings on it, each of those carvings has a name, has a face, has a soul, it has sorrow, it has pain, it has happiness, because now they are finally at peace.
Each of those carvings has a family, has children that are without their fathers. They too have souls, have faces, they know sorrow, they know pain, they have been cheated.
The Wall is not a wall, it is a living breathing organism. It is the force that tries to heal our inner wounds, that have scared our lives for 30 odd years. It is the driving force that solidifies the Combat soldier to assure, that Vietnam shall never happen to your generation, or your children's.
Our friends on The Wall are at peace now, we are in turmoil and torment.
We are not dead, we are just dead inside. It would be easier to be a carving on The Wall.
This is my reply to a story written by a 13 year old girl about a story she wrote about The Wall . If you read the story you will understand the reply much better. The name of the story is "The Power Of A Name"