Airman First Class Horace Alvie Holbrook (we called him Holy) was my best friend in Viet Nam. He lived about 90 miles from me, in Jacksonville, Alabama and was going to go back home, marry his fiancé and settle down.
On 12 May 1967 (seven days after I left Bien Hoa, Viet Nam) the barracks took a direct hit with a Russian rocket and Holy was killed instantly. Holy was 21 years old. He slept only about 20 feet from my bunk. I was able to go to his funeral while I was on leave and met the fiancé he talked so much about, as well as his parents and friends. That was pretty hard for a young 20 year old that had never lost a friend.
I am now 60 years old with a lovely wife, two great daughters, and have finished a 24 year military career. I think often of Holy (as I am sure many of you think of former colleagues) and realize that he will always be 21. One day I plan on going to "The Wall" and find his name (Panel 19E, Line 096). It has been 34 years since that day in May and I think I am about ready to go now.
The difficulty in going has not been my fear of death. It has been my overwhelming sense of pride and honor to serve my country and serve it with men and women who were (and are) willing to offer up the greatest sacrifice in its defense. It is the same feeling I get watching "Saving Private Ryan" or other such movies. I am overcome with pride, patriotism, honor - just too many feelings to hold in.
I am afraid I will not handle myself very well when I rub my hand over Holy's name on "The Wall." I don't want to be there by myself. I hope my wife will be there with me and comfort me when those emotions come.
My emotion will be for more than just him, it will be for all of our soldiers, sailors, airmen, marines, and coast guardsmen who place themselves above their own self-interests. It will be for that cause which keeps them serving, doing that which is necessary in a troubled world.
I am proud to have served my country and share that common devotion and dedication. I hope all of us will show proper honor, respect and appreciation on this Memorial Day.
On 12 May 1967 (seven days after I left Bien Hoa, Viet Nam) the barracks took a direct hit with a Russian rocket and Holy was killed instantly. Holy was 21 years old. He slept only about 20 feet from my bunk. I was able to go to his funeral while I was on leave and met the fiancé he talked so much about, as well as his parents and friends. That was pretty hard for a young 20 year old that had never lost a friend.
I am now 60 years old with a lovely wife, two great daughters, and have finished a 24 year military career. I think often of Holy (as I am sure many of you think of former colleagues) and realize that he will always be 21. One day I plan on going to "The Wall" and find his name (Panel 19E, Line 096). It has been 34 years since that day in May and I think I am about ready to go now.
The difficulty in going has not been my fear of death. It has been my overwhelming sense of pride and honor to serve my country and serve it with men and women who were (and are) willing to offer up the greatest sacrifice in its defense. It is the same feeling I get watching "Saving Private Ryan" or other such movies. I am overcome with pride, patriotism, honor - just too many feelings to hold in.
I am afraid I will not handle myself very well when I rub my hand over Holy's name on "The Wall." I don't want to be there by myself. I hope my wife will be there with me and comfort me when those emotions come.
My emotion will be for more than just him, it will be for all of our soldiers, sailors, airmen, marines, and coast guardsmen who place themselves above their own self-interests. It will be for that cause which keeps them serving, doing that which is necessary in a troubled world.
I am proud to have served my country and share that common devotion and dedication. I hope all of us will show proper honor, respect and appreciation on this Memorial Day.
No comments:
Post a Comment