DUTY, HONOR AND COUNTRY

"Death is not extinguishing the light; it is only putting out the

lamp because the dawn has come."--Rabindranath Tagore

I won't forget those moments I spent with you during your final days on Earth. The saying "Old men die, no matter how great, and young men die in combat, no matter how brave," is true.

Some of us referred to war, back then, as the "ultimate contact sport." It was a lot like surfing. You got up on the board and stayed there as long as you could. None of us dwelt on the possibilities of drowning or the potential for shark attacks.

It took a while for new troops to adapt to the change that incoming mortar rounds, booby traps and mines weren't particularly personal. They were more of a "To whom it may concern" form of communication. But even our opposition had loyalties and, like them, we were merely targets of opportunity, too. Direct combat revealed the tragedy of death and reminded us of the sanctity of life. It was a battleground where love of comrades and country--in that order--came before concern for self.

Seeing war take its toll on those around us wasn't easy. But we kept pouring our youth into the effort where so many were tasting life for the last time. We trusted each other with our lives and learned what sacrifice is all about. We lived by the ideals of duty, honor and country during that trial of adversity in jungles, rice paddies and mountains in places few people knew much about. We also observed the countless ways that a soldier could die and didn't back down when the stakes were lethal and significant suffering surrounded us.

Touched by the "Angel of Death," multitudes on both sides were never guaranteed another breath. Yet most of us learned to be at ease on the brink of this abyss. We lived on the ragged edge of existence amid continuous chaos and confusion. With fear gnawing at our nerves, we proved our mettle in the heat of battle and made peace with our Maker. Those unforgettable campaigns are over. Our fallen friends are now sleeping in...forever. We did all that we could.

I stand here today in this hallowed garden of stone, with its ruler-straight rows, and search the common graves for your names. For these emotional moments I'm living in the presence of the past. That muster roll on high is a written pledge of honor redeemable at the gates of heaven. It's an endless list of patriots that has survived long after the lone bugler's echo has faded. May eternal dawn have witnessed the arrival of your heroic souls being welcomed home by a loving God.