In Remembrance

I recently wrote a story titled "A Pittance of Time,". A story of my Vietnam experiences. That title was from a song composed and sung by a person named Terry Kelly. It was that song that inspired me to write that story.
There is not a day that has gone by in the past 40 years that I'm not reminded of the young man who died in my hands while crying out for his Mother with his final breath.
There are many people who have said and continue to say that we shouldn't have been involved in that war in the first place since it was a war that we couldn't win. I'd like to drop all of the would haves and should haves and remember the reality. We were there.
While even one is too many in any War there were thousands of young men killed in Vietnam. Many of them were drafted. Some of them were married, many of them had girlfriends but they all had Mothers.
My wife Janet, son David-Scott and I recently saw a movie titled "The Messenger". This movie depicted the way the next of kin were notified of their loved ones death. I'll speak for the Army but I'm sure it's the same with the other services.
They actually have what is called a casualty reporting unit. From that unit an officer and an enlisted man would go to the home of the next of kin to make notification. In doing so they would read or memorize from a prepared statement. This official statement reads in part. "The Secretary of the Army regrets to inform you that your son was killed in action in Vietnam, etc."
This is a policy that should be changed. There is no way the Mother of the 22 year old who died in my hands would have known that he was in no pain and that his final thoughts were of her. I am the only one who knew that and I don't even know his name.
In my personal life, I thank my God that I've survived another 40 years since that incident, and even though I have been stricken with Parkinson's Disease three years ago, that turned out to be a blessing in disguise. It forced me to give up alcohol and to begin writing.
I truly believe that I have been blessed. At the age of 72, I recently returned from Florida. While there, I visited my Mother and took her to dinner and watched a baseball game with her as we celebrated her 95th Birthday.
I dedicate this story to those mother's who lost a loved one and further to all Mother's in hopes that you may give a couple of minutes on your day in remembrance. Once again, It's just A Pittance of Time.