It's hard to remember now just how senseless it seemed.
In number of American deaths, it pales when compared to World Wars I and II. But the Vietnam War had a greater human cost than can be adequately measured.It was the only war that we watched nightly on television newscasts. When TV correspondents described a battle that occurred today or last night, it seemed to numb an entire nation to the tragic effects of war.
It also ruined the political career of Lyndon Johnson, seriously damaged that of Richard Nixon and tarnished the images of Eisenhower, Truman and Kennedy.
Unlike the patriotic fervor associated with other 20th century wars, the feelings connected with this one could not be nailed down. Most Americans were unsure of why we were there. In a strange way the ambivalence about the war seemed to tarnish the reputation of the veteran as well.
When it was over, we spent the rest of the 1970s trying to forget that it happened.
It was not until July 1, 1980, that Congress authorized a site in Constitution Gardens near the Lincoln Memorial for the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C. The large, parklike setting was perfect, and the memorial was dedicated Nov. 13, 1982.
Organizers wanted it to be reflective and contemplative in character and to harmonize with its surroundings. They also wanted it to contain all of the 58,132 names of those who died or remain missing and make no political statement about the war. That would speed the healing process.
Putting all those names on two polished black granite walls 10 feet tall and 246 feet long produced the reflective atmosphere. The mirrorlike surface reflects the surrounding trees, lawns, monuments and the people studying the names. The effect is almost overpowering. The names became the memorial.
Even though our family did not lose anyone in the Vietnam War, the memorial had a profound effect on us. We visited it several times and were impressed by its simple design and unspoken message. Our children, who knew little of Vietnam, considered it their favorite Washington memorial.
Vietnam veterans had a more difficult adjustment than other veterans because when they returned they found an America unconvinced that this was a necessary war. The consensus was that it was a tragedy or at least an unfortunate mistake, and so veterans lacked the hero-identification that made adjustment to civilian life easier for others.
So the Washington memorial seemed at last to legitimize the war. It finally ranked with World Wars I and II and Korea as events that spelled sacrifice and patriotism.
That is why the Utah memorial was also such a welcome addition to the Capitol grounds. Unveiled last month on a grassy slope, it boasts India granite identical to that used in the Washington memorial. It is less imposing than the national one, but its 8-foot tablets contain the names of all of the 389 Utahns "who unselfishly served the cause of freedom in Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos."
They "answered their nation's call in the same spirit as those who served in previous wars." Whether people approve of the war or not, it is assumed that they can approve of "the spirit" of service as applied to previous wars.
An 8-foot bronze statue by Clyde Ross Morgan includes a description of a "soldier of 19 going on 39" who is returning from a night patrol or a fire fight. He is carrying a "burden of an extra rifle that belongs to a fallen buddy." He has lost a friend to "a cause that is not very well understood."
At the end of a long testament to this soldier, the sculptor says, "He has done his duty at the request of a few, without the support of a majority.
"His painful memories are dimmed by time . . . but not forgotten. His service to his country has been ignored . . . but not forgotten. Gone are his fellow veterans who are missing or dead - but not forgotten."
Unlike the Washington memorial, the Utah memorial makes a political statement.
While I was visiting the memorial on a windless, sunny fall day, an older couple was there. Wordlessly they read every name and every word on the monument, occasionally looking at each other, obviously too moved to comment. It was clear that a loved one was represented on the tablets and that the effect was entirely emotional.
They stayed a long time. After they were finished reading, they just sat in the circle of granite and reflected, alone with their memories. I was curious to know their thoughts but dared not intrude on their sacred ground.
In spite of the ambiguous nature of the Vietnam War, its human toll in the lives it took or touched was immense. This beautifully executed monument helps make up for our prolonged determination to ignore it.
With the help of both monuments, we finally remember.