Michelle Renee Bier

This story is for all of the families who have lost someone they love in Vietnam.

Dear Dad,                                              July 10th, 1959
      Camp is fun!! We played baseball yesterday afternoon. My team won. 
      Today we went hiking in the woods. My friend Ted found a snake and
got  bit, he had to go see the nurse. He's going home tomorrow. 
      Camp is over in two weeks. I can't wait to come home and tell everyone
about how much fun I had here. I want to tell you, mom, and Sarah all about it. 
                                                              Your Son,
 PS...I'll see you when I get home.

 Dad,                                                        June 28th, 1967
      It's around 9pm right now. I am really tired. Boot Camp is harder
than I thought it would be. But we are learning a lot. It's the early morning
wake up calls that get to me. 
      I think I made the right decision in going into the military.
      It rained all day. We were all covered in mud because we had to run
 and crawl through it so much. 
      I miss the three of you! Gotta get some sleep now. 
  PS...I'll see you when I get home!!

 Dad,                                                            January 3rd, 1968
      It's pure hell over here, Dad. 
      Somedays I feel like I have no mind left inside my skull.
      I'm sorry that I missed Sarah's 16th birthday. The days seem to run
 together now. Hard for me to imagine my little sister being so old now.
 Tell her that I love her, ok?
      We went to a small village last week. I told you before how our
 platoon leader is a real SOB--it's hard for me to write and tell you
 this....he blew this vietnamese guy's face off while we watched. I can't
 take it. The only reason he had for doing it was because he couldn't
 understand what the guy was trying to say to him. I guess it pissed him
 off. I've been having nightmares about it. 
      They set their little huts on fire with cigarette lighters. They
call it Zippo parties. 
      I have never been so scared in my life.Everyone's scared. You can
see it in their eyes.
      It might be different if we knew these people we're killing...but
you gotta get them before they get you.
      The worst time is when everything is quiet. This one guy named Sam
 just sits and stares off into nothing when it's quiet. He's been here
 longer than me. 
      It's hard to get close to anyone here, Dad. One of my buddies
stepped on a landmine and not much of him was left. What makes it even
worse is I remember all of the times he showed me pictures of his wife and kid.
Please pray for me. 
      I want to come back home. That won't be for a while. 
                                                              Miss you all!!!
 PS....I'll see you when I get home!
 Dear Bobby,                                                  July 6th, 1998
      I miss you so much, Son. 
      Sorry I haven't written in so long. But every time I would start
to--I would break down. It seemed that while the war was going on..time went by so slowly.
 Now, well..I guess things haven't changed that much. 
      I am still waiting for you to walk in the front door. To hear your
 foot falls in the hall in the mornings. 
      They closed down the old High School. They are talking about a
      We still have all of your letters. They're in a steel box in the
 attic. Your mother pulled them out last night again. She sat up a long
 time, reading every line of them. 
      Sarah married in 1973. You would've liked her husband, Greg. They
have four kids. She told them all about you, Bobby. She misses you everyday. 
      I'm 72 years old now. But time stands still for you, Son. You'll
 always be 19 to me. 
      I just wanted to remind you how much I love you. Every time I run my
 fingers across your name on this Wall--I swear that I can still feel you
 standing beside me.
     You finally made it home. Safe with God in Heaven. Rest well, Bobby.
                                                              With all of my love,
 PS...I'll see you when I get home. 

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