Excerpts+from+Shrapnel+From+The+Heart

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He was only what a brother can be, always teaching, sharing and laughing with me. Then came his decision to go away, and I still remember how he looked that day. He walked straight and stood tall, as he answered his country's call. He wasn't a hero or especially brave but he didn't stand on a corner and rant and rave.

Cowardice and lies he couldn't stand, for he was an American, a soldier and a man. He had always done what he thought was right and evidently he thought Vietnam was our fight. In a village so far away, I'm not sure of the name, he died as he had lived without any shame. I hope more boys can grow up like him, for he was a man; my brother Jim.

K. Amis, Colorado Springs, Colorado for my brother, Sp4 James Foley KIA February 24, 1966 Page 127:

Hello, David- my name is Dusty. I'm your night nurse. I will stay with you. I will check your vitals every 15 minutes. I will document inevitability. I will hang more blood and give you something for your pain. I will stay with you and I will touch your face.

Yes, of course, I will write your mother and tell her you were brave. I will write your mother and tell her how much you loved her. I will write your mother and tell her to give your bratty kid sister a big kiss and hug. What I will not tell her is that you were wasted.

I will stay with you and I will hold your hand. I will stay with you and watch your life flow through my fingers into my soul. I will stay with you until you stay with me.

Goodbye, David- my name is Dusty. I'm the last person you will see. I'm the last person you will touch. I'm the last person who will love you.

So long, David- my name is Dusty. David- who will give me something for my pain?

Page 213 Dear Billy, Well, I finally made it to say goodbye! Sorry it took 16 years, but you know how hard it is to say anything for me. You can't believe how much things have changed. No more long hair, no more VW vans with flowers. But I guess we missed out on most of that when we went over to beautiful Vietnam in '69. Your name is on a black wall in D.C., but I'm sorry to say that it's a little below ground- kind of like how Charlie was! You look over a nice green- a place like we used to play football on back home. A lot of people walk by all day- you can tell the Vets- we are the one who don't have to ask about the size or type of material used to make the wall. We just stand and look, not caring who sees us cry- just like no one cared who died. I just moved to Washington, D.C., from New York City. No, Billy, I never did make it as a writer. I gave it 10 years but now I'm 34 and I better get my sh **together. I was married and I have 2 kids. A boy, Billy (guess who I named him after!!!), and a beautiful littler girl, Sharon. The day after you got it- I was hit in both legs and the back. Just my luck, I got the special ticket home and spent 3 years having operations and all that other sh** that 'recovery' means. I miss our talks Billy- sometimes I get scared and no one understands how I feel. I guess only those who were there know the fear and pain that is felt. I guess it's time for me to travel on, Billy. The light is going and my hand is shaking. I miss you, guy, and wish we could have laughed together for these past 16 years. Take care, guy, and don't worry, I'll be back to visit. (Don't forget the 2 broads in the hospital!! What a time we had that night.) Your pal, "Shock" Robert Shockley Special Orders to Billy Pedings, "Welcome Home."

Page 189

Years later I can never hear the sound of a helicopter Without remembering What I have lost.

In leaving today tears stain the window of the airplane on the runway. It has not rained in L.A. for months It rains today. I have had twenty years now to reflect on this madness And it is always the same. Thinking of you, Linda Phillips Pal o