STONE, MARBLE AND METAL (paying respects)

A new day dawns in DC and as usual when I wake up at the Hinkley Hilton I walk to the window pull back the curtain to look at the Washington Monument.

I  looked, rubbed my eyes and looked again. It's gone! The whole damn Monument!

Construction accident? Terrorist? David Copperfield?

No, fog. Thank God!

Renee has 1/2 day left of her seminar, me and her son will hit the Smithsonian Museum of American History after that we will go pay our respects at the war memorials, then meet up with Renee at Arlington National Cemetery. Although she lived in DC for five years, she never made it to Arlington.

Back on the Metro at DuPont Station, I'm getting the hang of this now. Get on the Red Line to Metro Center, jump on the Blue Line to the Smithsonian Station, piece of cake.

I really loved the Metro, very clean and efficient.

I very much enjoyed the museum of American History, my favorite displays, Archie Bunker's favorite chair and the huge flag that yet waved that infamous night back in September of 1814.

I had no idea that the actual flag that flew over Fort McHenry during the Battle of Baltimore even existed anymore and it was right here in front of me. I just stood there and stared at it thinking about Francis Scott Key held captive on a British ship in the midst of the War of 1812, staring at this very same flag and writing a poem that would become a song using a melody of lifted from an old English drinking tune called "To Anacreon In Heaven".

That was the start of an emotional day from here it would only get more solemn.

After we left the Smithsonian, we walked around the closed for repairs Washington Monument staring up at it as far as my cobbled together neck would allow.

We walked up to the still new looking WWII Memorial. It was opened in 2004. This is an outstanding tribute to the rapidly disappearing group of men and women that saved the world. It's shocking to think they waited that long to build this monument, but what a monument it is!

From there we went to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. Compared the memorial we just saw, The Wall is very subdued, I remember when it was first built, it had many detractors. Some even saying the plain black granite angled wall "looks like death". Given the 58,249 names engraved on the Wall you could describe it that way. 

I have friends and family that served in that war, my friends and family have friends and family whose names are on that wall. It was a little rainy and a lot gloomy as we walked along the Wall, walked among the veterans looking for their family and friends names on the Wall. The volunteers who were veterans themselves helping people locate those names on the Wall.

No this memorial is not ornate and not as large at the WWII Memorial, it does not even compare with the Korean War Memorial which also has a black granite wall.

When I think about the shameful way the returning Vietnam vets were treated by the anti war creeps, I don't think and I believe most vets of that war would agree, I just don't believe a large loud ornate structure would be appropriate. 

Most guys came home in civvies so the peace loving leftists wouldn't spit on them and call them baby killers.

This plain black granite wall just seems to fit in the landscape, quietly and unobtrusively, much like the soldiers who came home and just tried to forget it all and quietly blend into the landscape. Some were successful at this, many were not.

Walking in the rain we made our way to the Lincoln Memorial. I have seen this iconic statue sitting there with that thousand mile stare since I was a kid, but not in real life. Abraham Lincoln, the 16th president, the Republican president who freed the slaves at a huge cost of lives including his own.

I spend a long time in there looking up at the huge statue, then I stood beside him looking out in the same direction, straight ahead at the Reflecting Pool and at the Washington Monument.

Old Honest Abe has had plenty of time to ponder. I have just about used up my pondering time so we make one last stop before we plan our trek to Arlington, the Korean War Memorial.

My father served in this war so did his friend, my Uncle Kenny. Dad altered his Birth certificate so he could join the Army at 16.

The memorial is similar to the Vietnam War Memorial only in that it also has a black granite wall. But unlike the other wall it does not have the names of the KIA's or the MIA's. Instead it has ghostly images of soldiers engraved in the stone.

There are several larger than life size statues of soldiers clad in metal ponchos that are on what looks like a large patrol in weather kinda like what it was that day in DC. 

Looking at the statues all in different poses carrying M1 Garrands and Carbines I was reminded of on old war story told to me many years ago by an uncle long gone now.

Me and Uncle Kenny were talking while imbibing whiskey and coke.

Mine mixed to half strength, Uncle Kenny's was mixed by me just he way he liked it. Fill a glass with whiskey and add just enough coke to give it a little coke color but no coke flavor.

I've been known to get combat veterans to talk about things not discussed in the light of day or sober. Like I would get my bro in law Bob who is also my buddy many years later to talk about some things that happened in Nam, things that hadn't seen the light of day in a long long time.

Uncle Kenny told me a few stories but the one that brought vivid images to my mind was the way he found out that the Communist Chinese had entered the war on the side of the villainous North Koreans.

It was a very cold November night and he was out with small patrol not expecting much contact with the North Koreans. It was a dark night but suddenly they were confronted with the sight of thousands of Chinese moving around and through their drastically outnumbered patrol. The patrol hadn't been spotted and they had no chance in hell surviving a firefight. So spread out, they all just hunkered down and waited for the hordes of Chinese to pass by. I could just see young Kenny crouched down in the dark, heart pounding so loud he was sure the enemy could here his heartbeat. 

Kenny related the story (as best I remember), "we all just crouched down in the trees and waited, seemed like forever, then I saw one of them walking right up toward me. He just kept getting closer and closer. I couldn't shoot him, we all would have been dead, there was just too goddamned many of them. I took out my bayonet and just waited. I knew I was gonna have to cut his fuckin throat. I just squatted down beside that tree, then he just walked by me like I was a ghost". Old Kenny shook his head and stared at the wall like he was back there again in his minds eye. He finished his story, "Mark it musta been 20 below but I had sweat running down my face". We drank a lot that night.

I hadn't thought about that story in a good while. I guess this is an appropriate place to recall something like that.

A short time after that memory of Uncle Kenny came and went. I got a message from Renee, the seminar is winding down. I pull up Google Maps on my phone and start calculating distances. Looks like the nearest Metro is just a little closer than our next destination, in the opposite direction. I ask Renee's son if he's up for a hike, sure lets go!

Walking the historic path from the Lincoln Memorial across the Potomac on the Arlington Memorial Bridge was a fitting tribute and I'm glad we walked it. It was the route taken when the horse-drawn coffin brought JFK to his final resting 41 years ago.

 We were heading in the same direction to visit with him and thousands of other hero's.