New Jersey Vietnam Veterans' Memorial
2009 Scholarship Winner
Jessica L. Shohfi

I visited the New Jersey Vietnam Veterans Memorial one Saturday afternoon in early spring with my parents and my younger sister.  My dad had been there before, shortly after it had opened, but this was the first time the rest of us had visited it. 

As we first walked into the Memorial, we stopped at the computer touch screen to locate the names of several soldiers who have had their names inscribed on the wall.  These were people that my parents knew of from their respective home towns. 

While we were here, my mother told us of one special soldier.  This mans name was Robert Carovillano of Rutherford, NJ.  She revealed to us that Bob had been engaged to her sister when he was killed in action in February of 1967.  My aunt was only nineteen at the time.  Bob was twenty-one.  Neither my sister nor I had ever known anything about this.  My mom explained to us that this topic was not often discussed as my aunt still deeply struggles with the pain of this loss all these years later. 

Discovering this drove home the fact that these were not just names on a wall, but real people with real lives.  These were people who loved and were loved.  They felt the warmth of the sun on their skin just as I do, and their lives were cut short in their prime. Their loss is felt to this day by those who loved and were loved by them.

This revelation became my first personal connection to this war.  I was aware that my dads older brother served in Vietnam, but he lives in south Florida and does not have much contact with our family.  Once, when I asked my dad why his brother is so remote from our family, he responded that in a certain sense his brother had never really come home from Nam.  I guess that this trip to the memorial has allowed me to see that the ripples from this war, though somewhat diminished by time, continue to impact people's lives in real and meaningful ways.

Scrolling through the touch screen, I was struck by the notion that there is hardly a town in New Jersey that was spared the loss of one or more of their native sons.  My dad mentioned that the average age for a U.S. troop in Vietnam was nineteen years old.  They were boys, really, sent to do a man's job.  In the process, they lost their innocence, their youth, and, as evidenced by the names on these panels, their lives.

As I walked around the entire circle, I took notice that so many of these soldiers were just eighteen, nineteen, or twenty.  An immediate chill went up the spine of my back.  I turned eighteen in February and most of my friends are these very ages.  My heart skipped a beat as I considered, "What if my friends were to go to war?  What if they never came back?  What if I were looking for their names on this wall?  What if I had to bear the pain that so many young women (like my aunt) had to bear, hearing that they would never see their men again?"  This realization made me feel an uncanny connection to the families, friends, and lovers of these soldiers. 

Experiencing the Vietnam Veteran's Educational Center provided me with further insight into both the conflict itself, as well as the cultural climate that existed in the states as the war raged on.  I tried to absorb as much information relating to the causes that lead us into this conflict.  I can't claim to fully understand the reasons that the U.S. chose to enter and sustain its involvement in this campaign.  I do realize that these reasons run deeper then a desire to stop the spread of communism.  Though halting the prevalence of the communist ideology in this region was undoubtedly a major objective, other forces (political, economic) played a major role as well.

The social discord that was evident at home in the U.S. was illustrated clearly in the Educational Center.  I read with interest the stories of the anti-war protests, of the defections of thousands of young Americans to Canada to avoid the draft, and of the type of America the returning Vietnam veterans were experiencing. 

The continuous movie playing in the center of the room has veterans reflecting on their experience.  The reflection that impacted me the most significantly was the veteran who spoke about how they were vilified and demonized by a significant portion of our society upon their return to U.S. soil.  That this happened is a regrettable shame.

Perhaps though, we have learned from our mistake.  The war in Iraq is an unpopular war with the vast majority of the American public.  However, we treat the returning Iraq veterans as heroes, and honor their service to our nation.  It is a shame that the Vietnam Vets were not given a similar homecoming.  We, as a nation, are long overdue in the appreciation we owe to the veterans of the war in Vietnam.  They gave far more for us then we have apparently given to them. 

One might ask why this was so.  I think that perhaps we, as a people at that time, were simply confused.  We were confused about who we were as a nation, and where we were headed.  We were in the process of redefining our mores and values.  Many had lost faith in their leaders and in the political system.  Those who were looked to save us were the victims of assassination (RFK, MLK).  The disenfranchised youth were incapable of expressing any emotion beyond disgust when it came to an issue as polarizing as Vietnam.  It was a generational case of displaced anger.

Thankfully, we have come to our collective senses, and we understand our failure as a society as it relates to the treatment of the veterans of Vietnam.  May each and every one of you forgive us all.

Now, when I hear the songs of the sixties, I can connect the political issues that were associated with them. I remember when I left the Memorial, I felt sad, sad that so many of our men and women lost their lives and that so many families were destroyed.  I also remember feeling proud, proud that so many of our men and women were brave enough to fight for America, for freedom.  I also know that when I left the Memorial, I felt somewhat more mature, recognizing that I am now a voting American, and I have the obligation to understand America's politics and to stand up for what I believe in.  It seems the least I can do in memory of these soldiers, in memory of Bob.

These are some of the things that my visit to the Vietnam Veterans' Memorial has caused me to think about and to consider.  I am grateful that I was able to visit this Memorial and for what I was able to take away from it.  I thank you for taking the time to read this essay.  I commend you for all that you have done to remember the ultimate sacrifice made by these American heroes.