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(Netscape users need
Quick time)
These songs were written by Dane Brown, a Former
Marine Vietnam Combat Veteran.....If you THINK you have ever experienced Raw
Emotion, then think again !!! Read what some of his listeners are
saying............http://cdbaby.com/cd/o127g

"Never Again Will One Generation of Veterans Abandon Another"
"Proud Americans"
2nd Battalion, 32nd
Field Artillery, Sev. Battery, Tay Ninh and Cu Chi
August 15, 1966 through August 13, 1967.


"Viet Nam Veterans of America"

Is the only national Viet Nam veterans organization congressionally
chartered and exclusively dedicated to Viet Nam-era veterans and their
families. Our goals are to promote and support the full range of veterans
issues important to Viet Nam veterans, to create a new identity for our
generation of veterans, and to change public perception of Viet Nam
veterans.
We
hold as our first principle that we are measured by our deeds and openness
as evidence of our core values of Justice, Integrity, and meaningful
achievement.
Sincerely: Viet Nam Veterans of
America.

The pictures below are thumbnail pictures, by clicking on one of the
pictures you'll see an enlarged view. To return to the thumbnail view, just
click the "back" button on your browser. Sometimes the full size picture
will come up in a second browser in this case just click the "X" in the top
right corner of that browser.


I apologize for not
having all the participants names!
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A Moment of
Silence for the Fallen!
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A Viet Nam
Veteran Touching the Wall for the first time!
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Instructions for
the escort ride to Nampa.
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Somberly waiting
to bring your Brothers home.
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Brothers
gathering.
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Getting ready to
ride.
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Veterans
Honoring Fallen Veterans.
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Washington D. C.
Viet Nam Wall Picture, this is a picture of that picture.
A bother
honoring his fallen brothers.
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Honor guard at
the park.
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Flag Bears at
the park.
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Ghost and
Brothers and Sisters.
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Ghost helping
assemble escort.
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Ghost reciting a
heart touching poem.
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Escort for the
moving Viet Nam Wall
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More bikes to
escort the moving Viet Nam Wall.
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Left to right,
Robert, Kathy, Don and Hugh.
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Paying Tribute.
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Paying Tribute.
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Bill helping
Mourners.
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Bill Marion &
her son.
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A Nampa
Policeman Paying Tribute to. Idaho's Fallen.
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Closing
Ceremonies.
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Closing
Ceremonies.
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Closing
Ceremonies.
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United States of
America, Viet Nam Battle Flag.
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"Reflections" of the Vietnam Wall
If you've ever seen the painting "Reflections" of
the Vietnam Wall in Washington, you've seen the man standing there with his
hand on the wall, mourning his dead father or brother who was killed. What
he doesn't see is the reflection from the other side showing that relative
with HIS hand on the wall, touching the hand of his survivor. That painting
inspired this story.
FROM THE OTHER SIDE
by Patrick Camunes
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At first there was no place for us to go until
someone put up that Black Granite Wall. Now, everyday and night, my Brothers
and my Sisters wait to see the many people from places afar file in front of
this Wall. Many stopping briefly and many for hours and some that come on a
regular basis. It was hard at first, not that it's gotten any easier, but it
seems that many of the attitudes towards that war that we were involved in
have changed. I can only pray that the ones on the other side have learned
something and more Walls as this one needn't be built. Several members of my
unit and many that I did not recognize have called me to the Wall by
touching my name that is engraved upon it. The tears aren't necessary but
are hard even for me to hold back. Don't feel guilty for not being with me,
my Brothers. This was my destiny as it is yours, to be on that side of the
Wall. Touch the Wall, my Brothers, so that we can share in the memories that
we had. I have learned to put the bad memories aside and remember only the
pleasant times that we had together. Tell our other Brothers out there to
come and visit me, not to say Good Bye but to say Hello and be together
again, even for a short time and to ease that pain of loss that we all
share. Today, an irresistible and loving call comes from the Wall. As I
approach I can see an elderly lady and as I get closer I recognize her...
It's Momma! As much as I have looked forward to this day, I have also
dreaded it because I didn't know what reaction I would have. Next to her, I
suddenly see my wife and immediately think how hard it must of been for her
to come to this place and my mind floods with the pleasant memories of 30
years past. There's a young man in a military uniform standing with his arm
around her... My God!...It's... it has to be my son. Look at him trying to
be the man without a tear in his eye. I yearn to tell him how proud I am,
seeing him standing tall, straight and proud in his uniform. Momma comes
closer and touches the Wall and I feel the soft and gentle touch I had not
felt in so many years. Dad has crossed to this side of the Wall and through
our touch, I try to convey to her that Dad is doing fine and is no longer
suffering or feeling pain. I see my wife's courage building as she sees
Momma touch the Wall and she approaches and lays her hand on my waiting
hand. All the emotions, feelings and memories of three decades past flash
between our touch and I tell her that it's all right. Carry on with your
life and don't worry about me... I can see as I look into her eyes that she
hears and understands me and a big burden has been lifted from her. I watch
as they lay flowers and other memories of my past. My lucky charm that was
taken from me and sent to her by my CO, a tattered and worn teddy bear that
I can barely remember having as I grew up as a child and several medals that
I had earned and were presented to my wife. One of them is the Combat
Infantry Badge that I am very proud of and I notice that my son is also
wearing this medal. I had earned mine in the jungles of Vietnam and he had
probably earned his in the deserts of Iraq. I can tell that they are
preparing to leave and I try to take a mental picture of them together,
because I don't know when I will see them again. I wouldn't blame them if
they were not to return and can only thank them that I was not forgotten. My
wife and Momma near the Wall for one final touch and so many years of
indecision, fear and sorrow are let go. As they turn to leave I feel my
tears that had not flowed for so many years, form as if dew drops on the
other side of the Wall. They slowly move away with only a glance over their
shoulder. My son suddenly stops and slowly returns. He stands straight and
proud in front of me and snaps a salute. Something makes him move to the
Wall and he puts his hand upon the Wall and touches my tears that had formed
on the face of the Wall and I can tell that he senses my presence there and
the pride and the love that I have for him. He falls to his knees and the
tears flow from his eyes and I try my best to reassure him that it's all
right and the tears do not make him any less of a man. As he moves back
wiping the tears from his eyes, he silently mouths, God Bless you, Dad...
God Bless, YOU, Son... We WILL meet someday but in the meanwhile, go on your
way... There is no hurry... There is no hurry at all. As I see them walk off
in the distance, I yell out to THEM and EVERYONE there today, as loud as I
can,... THANKS FOR REMEMBERING and as others on this side of the Wall join
in, I notice that the US Flag that so proudly flies in front of us everyday,
is snapping and standing proudly straight out in the wind today...
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THANK YOU ALL FOR REMEMBERING...
"Reflections" of the Vietnam Wall

If you've ever seen the painting "Reflections" of
the Vietnam Wall in Washington, you've seen the man standing there with his
hand on the wall, mourning his dead father or brother who was killed. What
he doesn't see is the reflection from the other side showing that relative
with HIS hand on the wall, touching the hand of his survivor. That painting
inspired this story.
FROM THE OTHER SIDE
by Patrick Camunes
THANK YOU ALL FOR REMEMBERING...
Soldiers And Their Night Mares!

These soldiers walked through hell and
having passed through the flames lost a part of their soul. They watched
their friends get shot and maimed and themselves paid a physical and mental
toll!
Click Here
To View Just click the back button in your browser to come
back here.

The lady who wrote this
letter is Pam Foster of Pamela Foster and Associates in Atlanta. She's been
in business since 1980 doing interior design and home planning. She recently
wrote a letter to a family member serving in Iraq...... Please Read It!
WHAT'S ALL THE FUSS?

"Are we fighting a war on terror
or aren't we?
Was it or was it not started by Islamic people who brought it to our shores
on September 11, 2001? Were people from all over the world, mostly
Americans, not brutally murdered that day, in downtown Manhattan, across the
Potomac from our nation's capitol and in a field in Pennsylvania?
Did nearly three thousand men, women and children die a horrible, burning or
crushing death that day, or didn't they?
And I'm supposed to care that a copy of the Koran was "desecrated" when an
overworked American soldier kicked it or got it wet? Well, I don't. I don't
care at all.
I'll start caring when Osama bin Laden turns himself in and repents for
incinerating all those innocent people on 9/11.
I'll care about the Koran when the fanatics in the Middle East start caring
about the Holy Bible, the mere possession of which is a crime in Saudi
Arabia.
I'll care when Abu Musab al-Zarqawi tells the world he is sorry for hacking
off Nick Berg's head while Berg screamed through his gurgling slashed
throat.
I'll care when the cowardly so-called "insurgents" in Iraq come out and
fight like men instead of disrespecting their own religion by hiding in
mosques.
I'll care when the mindless zealots who blow themselves up in search of
nirvana care about the innocent children within range of their suicide
bombs.
I'll care when the American media stops pretending that their First
Amendment liberties are somehow derived from international law instead of
the United States Constitution's Bill of Rights.
In the meantime, when I hear a story about a brave marine roughing up an
Iraqi terrorist to obtain information, know this: I don't care.
When I see a fuzzy photo of a pile of naked Iraqi prisoners who have been
humiliated in what amounts to a college hazing incident, rest assured that I
don't care.
When I see a wounded terrorist get shot in the head when he is told not to
move because he might be booby-trapped, you can take it to the bank that I
don't care.
When I hear that a prisoner, who was issued a Koran and a prayer mat, and
fed "special" food that is paid for by my tax dollars, is complaining that
his holy book is being "mishandled," you can absolutely believe in your
heart of hearts that I don't care.
And oh, by the way, I've noticed that sometimes it's spelled "Koran" and
other times "Quran." Well, Jimmy Crack Corn and ---- you guessed it - - - I
don't care ! ! ! ! !
If you agree with this view point, pass this on to all your e-mail friends.
Sooner or later, it'll get to the people responsible for this ridiculous
behavior! If you don't agree, then by all means hit the delete button.
Should you choose the latter, then please don't complain when more
atrocities committed by radical Muslims happen here in our great country.
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