The Wall

AN: This story was written in honor of Veteran's Day and the 20th anniversary of the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial last week.


Vietnam Veteran's Memorial
Washington, DC
Zulu 1427
November 12, 2002

"Hello, Dad."

It was past midnight, the festivities were long over, and they were alone. Even so, the naval officer spoke softly, as he leaned toward the long, black, granite wall. The heaps of flowers and flags, pictures and letters that adorned the small shelf in front of the wall kept him from approaching too closely. He reached out his hand tentatively, as if to try to touch the letters that were carved into the shiny black stone. His hand wavered slightly and then he pulled it back to his side as he stood rigidly to attention.

"I can't believe it's been twenty years, Dad."

He paused, took a breath, and seemed to struggle for composure.

"I remember the first time I came here. For the Dedication. I don't think I ever told you that I almost went UA to get here that day. My senior year, there was no way that my CO was going to let me take time in the middle of midterms to drive to Washington."

A small smile crept across the officer's face as he remembered the chewing out he had received for even making that request.

"You know, Dad, I had decided to come here anyway, no matter what happened. There are just some things that are worth paying any price for. "

This man had been confronted with more than a few hard decisions since that day and had never once backed away from doing what he thought was right. It had never before occurred to him that his choice on that day twenty years ago might have been the first of many.

"Somehow, Sturgis figured out that I was about to throw my naval career away and he got his father to intercede. When I left I didn't know that Chaplain Turner had gotten permission for me to come. I can't even begin to imagine how he did that, although the Chaplain's a pretty persuasive man. Even the Admiral can't say no to him."

He remembered back to that miserable trip to DC. He'd hitch hiked most of the way with a trucker who had tried to make conversation. He had been curious why a naval cadet was on his way to Washington. In the middle of the school term. Alone. The truck driver finally gave up and they had ridden the miles together in silence.

What could he have said to him? He was certain that he had to come to the service dedicating the Vietnam Memorial, but he also knew that he was probably throwing his dreams away. It had been frightening and exhilarating at the same time.

There was no way he could tell that to a stranger. He'd always had trouble talking about his most intimate feelings, even with those who were closest to him.

"When I got to the Wall, thinking that I'd sneaked out of school, and pretty sure about the hell that awaited me when I got back to Annapolis, there were Sturgis and Chaplain Turner. Standing right about here. Waiting. To support me. To honor you, Dad."

"They were and are very good friends and there's no way in hell I can ever repay what they did for me that day. Sturgis is more like an older brother to me. I know we're the same age, but he's somehow so centered. That's something I'm working on, Dad. But, you know the Rabb men. It's an uphill battle.

He closed his eyes for a moment.

"Speaking of brothers, Dad, I want to talk to you about Russia."

He took another breath. This time it felt as if his chest was so tight that he couldn't expel the air in it.

"I met her, you know."

He wondered how to put what he felt into words. Just do it, he told himself. Just say what you feel, for once. Why is that so hard for you?

" I understand, Dad. At least, I think I do. I know you knew that you were never coming home and she offered you some chance at a life. It was hard for me to accept this at first. I kept thinking about Mom. But, now I understand. This had nothing to do with Mom, or me. It was about you, trying to find some small comfort from the terrible cards that life dealt you."

"She never forgot you, Dad. She cried when she told us what happened that day. How you tried to save her from being raped. I don't know if you know this, whether you were dead before you could know, but you did protect her. You saved her, Dad."

His son's life had also been dedicated to protecting people. He hoped his father had known what his last act had meant.

" I could see how much she loved you, he continued. " I hope you loved her, too."

A small smile slid across his face as he continued, his voice getting stronger.

" I always wanted a brother, you know. He's a handful. Another Rabb male trait.... I wish you could have known him. He's stubborn, opinionated, and willful. Sound familiar? But, he is also one of the most honorable men I know. I am so grateful he's in my life. Thank you for Sergei, Dad."

"You know, Dad, I know now that this is the only grave you'll ever have. I don't know where your bones lie. Somewhere in the Taiga. Unmarked."

"In the first years when I came to the wall, it wasn't really to visit you, Dad. I truly thought you were out there, that somehow, I'd find a way to bring you home. Now I know that will never happen. But, Dad, I also know that you have a place here. There are fifty-eight thousand people here with you. Fathers, sons, husbands, lovers. You'll never be alone, Dad. You'll never be forgotten."

"I'm so glad that I came here twenty years ago. I am so grateful for this place. I will always come here. And, so will millions of others who will look at the name Harmon Rabb and who will always remember the sacrifice you made for your country. Thank you, Dad. I love you."

Those last words were whispered softly. The naval officer bent down and carefully shifted aside the offerings in front of the wall where he stood. He moved closer so that his hand could trace the letters of his father's name. He leaned forward and placed his cheek against the cool granite. A feeling of peace spread through his body. He stood there, unwilling to move, to separate himself from the physical connection that he felt.

He was not surprised to feel two strong slender arms encircle him, surrounding him with a warm embrace.

"Hello, Sarah," he said without turning around to check the identity of his companion.

"Hello, Harm, and hello, Lieutenant Rabb." The marine and the sailor stood, still connected to the Wall for several moments, and then, as one, they stepped back and came to attention. Their salute was in unison. So much of their lives seemed finally to be in unison.

Together they turned away from the wall.

The End.