So many didn't. I ve examined their names on the Vietnam War Memorial, which, for reasons I can't explain, I visit every time I'm in Washington. I'm not looking for anyone in particular, but am drawn there as I might be to some holy place. I'm always struck by the reverent silence among the strangers gathered there. If you've never been, the wall is bordered by a long, winding walkway.
People move up and down, alone or in clusters, looking at the names.
They rarely make eye contact with anyone else. It seems impolite to look at anyone, lest they need to cry. Here and there, a Vietnam vet, sometimes wearing his old uniform, will stop to trace a name. It's a sad, sad place, where human souls connect no matter what their relationship to the historical event. You cannot go there and not be moved.