Fort Benning Blues

Epilogue

Epilogue I didn't go everyvvhere I hoped, but 1 traveled around a great deal, blowing about the COUntry like dead leaves. I'd stop at a place for awhile, long enough to make a few friends, and then roll on like a suddenly dislodged tumbleweed. Budwell, Garren, and I lost track ofone another; it wa.~ hard to keep up with men on the run who changed their names !ike they changed their underwear. But I thought of them constantly. Every time an old song like "Bridge Over Troubled Water" or "Let It Be" came on the radio, I'd stop, and their f..lees would fill up my imagination like gods. Or I'd be walking along a street at night in a strange city. I'd sec someone shambling along in front of me, and I'd be sure it was onc of them. I'd run up, tap him on the shoulder, then make my quiet apologies to a stranger. Then a few mOllths after the Vietnam Memorial opened, I got a letter written to my new name and new address in the Midwest. I recognized the handwriting. We'd agreed on a code before we split up so that when we moved, we could send our new addresses to a PO. box in Budwell's mother 's name in Los Angeles. Other than that I hadn't communicated with either of them. The letter had no return address, and the postmark was unreadable. I opened it warily and read: Say Buddy, I think it's time for us to get together again, for old times'sake. I'll meet you on May 4th-the anniversary ofour liberation from 58th OC Company-and Kent State-at the Viemam Memorial at high noon (Washington time). Be there or be square. Peace, Hugh I decided it was time to move on anyway, still a little paranoid about getting mail from Budwell and afraid that the FBI could be dose behind, although by that timc deserters were pretty low priority. Still, it seemed right to kill the old self and burst anew like those seventeen-year locusts. 1 got to Washington a couple days early, long enough to take some tours, visit the Capitol, and see the Washington Monument. It was early for the tourist season, almost time for the tour buses of high school graduating seniors from around the country. The cherry blossoms had bloomed late that year; Washington was a tiot of flowers and homeless people. I couldn't face the Wall at first; just thinking about it was more than I could bear. I wanted to see the Lincoln Memorial, though, remembering another double-feature night at the drive-in with Granddad. Jimmy Stewart was JUSt after Randolph Scott and John Wayne on Granddad's list of favorite actors, and I recalled the night we went to see Mr. Deeds Goes to Town with Gary Cooper and My. Smith Goes to Washington with Stewart playing an idealistic congressman who visits the Memorial. I walked slowly up the long stairway at the Lincoln Memorial and moved into the calm coolness of the intetior, stepping gently on the fluted shadows on the stony floor. Towering above was the figure of the sad president , btooding in a great stone chair. You had your war and contradictions, I thought, struggled with a divided land, and stood for principles that hold. When I moved back outside, I looked over wward the Vietnam Memorial, but 1 knew I wasn't ready to see it yet; tomorrow would be soon enough. The next day, May 4th, I headed toward the Wall early and sat for a while on one of the metal benches near the Lincoln. Finally, I walked toward the Vietnam Memorial. On the right was the statue of soldiers added to the design to satisfy the war mongers who opposed the Wall. I walked past it and looked down the memorial, srraining to see Budwell's form. The Wall begins low, because there's not any need for a high structure early in the war when there were few casuahies. It's late in the '60safter TET of'68-that the Wall grows. I stood looking along the dark, vshaped monument from the cnd, reluctant to walk any closer. I was convinced that every name would be someone I knew. Finally I began to move slowly down the walkway. Along the Wall people had left things- pictures, miniature American 202 Fort Bnming...