AMVETS.org
  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Linkedin
  • Twitter
  • Youtube
  • Home
  • About
    • About Us
    • AMVETS FAMILY
      • National Service Foundation
      • National Ladies Auxiliary
      • National Sons of AMVETS
      • AMVETS Riders
    • Bios
    • Commander’s Welcome
    • FAQs
    • Officers & Staff
      • National Officers
      • Department Officers
      • Past Leaders
  • Events
    • Upcoming Events
    • National Convention 2013
    • Legislative Events
    • Program Events
    • Reunion Notices
  • Legislative
    • About Legislative
    • Federal Government Resources
    • Independent Budget and Critical Issues
    • Conventions, Comittees and Resolutions
    • Testimony
    • Legislative Training and Research
  • Membership
    • Member Log In
    • Monthly Report
    • Membership Forms
    • Benefits
    • Find Post & Dept.
    • Submit NEC Report
  • Programs
    • AMERICANISM
      • 2012 Americanism Winners
    • AMVETS Spirit of America Youth Conference
    • Educational Opportunities
    • Forms
    • Post and Department Highlights
    • Programs Planning
    • Programs Reporting
      • Report Your Programs
    • Task Force DVD
    • Training
    • VAVS
    • Warrior Transition Workshop
  • Press Room
    • AMERICAN VETERAN MAGAZINE
    • AMERICAN VETERAN Blog
    • News Archive
    • Reunion Notices
  • VA Claims
    • Filing a VA Claim?
    • Locate Service Officer
      • Transition Assistance
  • Resources
    • Career Center
    • Download Forms
    • Download Logos
    • Download Radio PSAs
    • AMVETS Mall
    • Links
    • AMVETS Quartermaster

President Obama’s Memorial Day Remarks at Vietnam War Memorial

Home» Communications » President Obama’s Memorial Day Remarks at Vietnam War Memorial

The fol­low­ing are remarks Pres­i­dent Obama deliv­ered May 28, 2012, at Memo­r­ial Day cer­e­monies at the Viet­nam War Memo­r­ial in Wash­ing­ton, D.C.:

Good after­noon, every­body.  Chuck, thank you for your words and your friend­ship and your life of ser­vice.  Vet­er­ans of the Viet­nam War, fam­i­lies, friends, dis­tin­guished guests.  I know it is hot.  (Laugh­ter.)  But you are here — to honor your loved ones.  And Michelle and I could not be more hon­ored to be here with you.

It speaks to the com­plex­ity of America’s time in Viet­nam that, even now, his­to­ri­ans can­not agree on pre­cisely when the war began.  Amer­i­can advi­sors had served there, and died there, as early as the mid-’50s.  Major com­bat oper­a­tions would not begin until the mid-’60s.  But if any year in between illus­trated the chang­ing nature of our involve­ment, it was 1962.

It was Jan­u­ary, in Saigon.  Our Army pilots strapped on their hel­mets and boarded their heli­copters.  They lifted off, raced over tree­tops car­ry­ing South Viet­namese troops.  It was a sin­gle raid against an enemy strong­hold just a few miles into the jun­gle — but it was one of America’s first major oper­a­tions in that far­away land.

Fifty years later, we come to this wall — to this sacred place — to remem­ber.  We can step towards its gran­ite wall and reach out, touch a name.  Today is Memo­r­ial Day, when we recall all those who gave every­thing in the dark­ness of war so we could stand here in the glory of spring.  And today begins the 50th com­mem­o­ra­tion of our war in Viet­nam.  We honor each of those names etched in stone — 58,282 Amer­i­can patri­ots.  We salute all who served with them.  And we stand with the fam­i­lies who love them still.

For years you’ve come here, to be with them once more.  And in the sim­ple things you’ve left behind — your offer­ings, your memen­tos, your gifts — we get a glimpse of the lives they led.  The blan­ket that cov­ered him as a baby.  The base­ball bat he swung as a boy.  A wed­ding ring.  The photo of the grand­child he never met.  The boots he wore, still caked in mud.  The medals she earned, still shin­ing.  And, of course, some of the things left here have spe­cial mean­ing, known only to the vet­er­ans — a can of beer; a packet of M&Ms; a con­tainer of Spam; an old field ration — still good, still awful.  (Laughter.)

It’s here we feel the depth of your sac­ri­fice.  And here we see a piece of our larger Amer­i­can story.  Our Founders — in their genius — gave us a task.  They set out to make a more per­fect union.  And so it falls to every gen­er­a­tion to carry on that work.  To keep mov­ing for­ward.  To over­come a some­times painful past.  To keep striv­ing for our ideals.

And one of the most painful chap­ters in our his­tory was Viet­nam — most par­tic­u­larly, how we treated our troops who served there.  You were often blamed for a war you didn’t start, when you should have been com­mended for serv­ing your coun­try with valor.  (Applause.)  You were some­times blamed for mis­deeds of a few, when the hon­or­able ser­vice of the many should have been praised.  You came home and some­times were den­i­grated, when you should have been cel­e­brated.  It was a national shame, a dis­grace that should have never hap­pened.  And that’s why here today we resolve that it will not hap­pen again.  (Applause.)

And so a cen­tral part of this 50th anniver­sary will be to tell your story as it should have been told all along.  It’s another chance to set the record straight.  That’s one more way we keep per­fect­ing our Union — set­ting the record straight.  And it starts today.  Because his­tory will honor your ser­vice, and your names will join a story of ser­vice that stretches back two centuries.

Let us tell the story of a gen­er­a­tion of ser­vice­mem­bers — every color, every creed, rich, poor, offi­cer and enlisted — who served with just as much patri­o­tism and honor as any before you. Let’s never for­get that most of those who served in Viet­nam did so by choice.  So many of you vol­un­teered.  Your coun­try was at war, and you said, “send me.”  That includes our women in Viet­nam — every one of you a vol­un­teer.  (Applause.)  Those who were drafted, they, too, went and car­ried their bur­den — you served; you did your duty.

You per­se­vered though some of the most bru­tal con­di­tions ever faced by Amer­i­cans in war.  The suf­fo­cat­ing heat.  The drench­ing mon­soon rains.  An enemy that could come out of nowhere and van­ish just as quickly.  Some of the most intense urban com­bat in his­tory, and bat­tles for a sin­gle hill that could rage for weeks.  Let it be said — in those hell­holes like Bri­arpatch, and the Zoo and the Hanoi Hilton — our Viet­nam POWs didn’t sim­ply endure; you wrote one of the most extra­or­di­nary sto­ries of brav­ery and integrity in the annals of mil­i­tary his­tory.  (Applause.)

As a nation, we’ve long cel­e­brated the courage of our forces at Nor­mandy and Iwo Jima, the Pusan Perime­ter and Heart­break Ridge.  So let us also speak of your courage — at Hue and Khe Sanh, at Tan Son Nhut and Saigon, from Ham­burger Hill to Rolling Thun­der.  All too often it’s for­got­ten that you, our troops in Viet­nam, won every major bat­tle you fought in.  (Applause.)

When you came home, I know many of you put your medals away — tucked them in a drawer, or in a box in the closet.  You went on with your lives — started fam­i­lies and pur­sued careers.  A lot of you didn’t talk too much about your ser­vice.  As a con­se­quence, this nation has not always fully appre­ci­ated the chap­ter of your lives that came next.

So let us also tell a story of a gen­er­a­tion that came home, and how — even though some Amer­i­cans turned their back on you — you never turned your back on Amer­ica.  (Applause.)  Like gen­er­a­tions before you, you took off the uni­form, but you never stopped serv­ing.  You became teach­ers and police offi­cers and nurses — the folks we count on every sin­gle day.  You became entre­pre­neurs, run­ning com­pa­nies and pio­neer­ing indus­tries that changed the world.  You became lead­ers and pub­lic ser­vants, from town halls to Capi­tol Hill — lift­ing up our com­mu­ni­ties, our states, our nation.

You reminded us what it was like to serve, what it meant to serve.  Those of you who stayed in uni­form, you rose through the ranks, became lead­ers in every ser­vice, learned from your expe­ri­ence in Viet­nam and rebuilt our mil­i­tary into the finest force that the world has ever known.  (Applause.)  And let’s remem­ber all those Viet­nam vet­er­ans who came back and served again — in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.  You did not stop serv­ing.  (Applause.)

Even as you suc­ceeded in all these endeav­ors, you did some­thing more — maybe the most impor­tant thing you did — you looked after each other.  When your gov­ern­ment didn’t live up to its respon­si­bil­i­ties, you spoke out — fight­ing for the care and ben­e­fits you had earned, and, over time, trans­form­ing the VA.  And, of course, one of these Viet­nam vet­er­ans is now our out­stand­ing Sec­re­tary of Vet­er­ans Affairs, Ric Shin­seki.  (Applause.)

You looked after one another.  You cared for one another.  Peo­ple weren’t always talk­ing about PTSD at the time — you under­stood it, and you were there for each other.  Just as impor­tantly, you didn’t just take care of your own, you cared for those that fol­lowed.  You’ve made it your mis­sion to make sure today’s troops get the respect and sup­port that all too often you did not receive.  (Applause.)

Because of you, because our Viet­nam vet­er­ans led the charge, the Post-9/11 GI Bill is help­ing hun­dreds of thou­sands of today’s vet­er­ans go to col­lege and pur­sue their dreams.  (Applause.)  Because of you, because you didn’t let us for­get, at our air­ports, our return­ing troops get off the air­plane and you are there to shake their hands.  (Applause.)  Because of you, across Amer­ica, com­mu­ni­ties have wel­comed home our forces from Iraq.  And when our troops return from Afghanistan, Amer­ica will give this entire 9/11 Gen­er­a­tion the wel­come home they deserve.  That hap­pened in part because of you.  (Applause.)

This is the story of our Viet­nam ser­vice­mem­bers — the story that needs to be told.  This is what this 50th anniver­sary is all about.  It’s another oppor­tu­nity to say to our Viet­nam vet­er­ans what we should have been say­ing from the begin­ning:  You did your job.  You served with honor.  You made us proud.  You came home and you helped build the Amer­ica that we love and that we cherish.

So here today, it must be said — you have earned your place among the great­est gen­er­a­tions.  At this time, I would ask all our Viet­nam vet­er­ans, those of you who can stand, to please stand, all those already stand­ing, raise your hands — as we say those sim­ple words which always greet our troops when they come home from here on out:  Wel­come home.  (Applause.)  Wel­come home. Wel­come home.  Wel­come home.  Thank you.  We appre­ci­ate you.  Wel­come home.  (Applause.)

Today, we’re call­ing on all Amer­i­cans, and every seg­ment of our soci­ety, to join this effort.  Every­body can do some­thing.  Five decades removed from a time of divi­sion among Amer­i­cans, this anniver­sary can remind us of what we share as Amer­i­cans.  That includes hon­or­ing our Viet­nam vet­er­ans by never for­get­ting the lessons of that war.

So let us resolve that when Amer­ica sends our sons and daugh­ters into harm’s way, we will always give them a clear mis­sion; we will always give them a sound strat­egy; we will give them the equip­ment they need to get the job done.  We will have their backs.  (Applause.)  We will resolve that lead­ers will be can­did about the risks and about progress — and have a plan to bring our troops home, with honor.

Let us resolve to never for­get the costs of war, includ­ing the ter­ri­ble loss of inno­cent civil­ians — not just in Viet­nam, but in all wars.  For we know that while your sac­ri­fice and ser­vice is the very def­i­n­i­tion of glory, war itself is not glo­ri­ous.  We hate war.  When we fight, we do so to pro­tect our­selves because it’s necessary.

Let’s resolve that in our democ­racy we can debate and dis­agree — even in a time of war.  But let us never use patri­o­tism as a polit­i­cal sword.  Patri­ots can sup­port a war; patri­ots can oppose a war.  And what­ever our view, let us always stand united in sup­port of our troops, who we placed in harm’s way.  (Applause.)  That is our solemn oblig­a­tion.  (Applause.)
Let’s resolve to take care of our vet­er­ans as well as they’ve taken care of us — not just talk, but actions.  Not just in the first five years after a war, but the first five decades. For our Viet­nam vet­er­ans, this means the dis­abil­ity ben­e­fits for dis­eases con­nected to Agent Orange.  It means job oppor­tu­ni­ties and men­tal health care to help you stand tall again.  It means end­ing the tragedy of vet­er­ans’ home­less­ness, so that every vet­eran who has fought for Amer­ica has a home in Amer­ica.  You shouldn’t have to fight for a roof over your heads when you fought on behalf of the coun­try that you love.  (Applause.)

And when an Amer­i­can does not come back — includ­ing the 1,666 Amer­i­cans still miss­ing from the Viet­nam War — let us resolve to do every­thing in our power to bring them home.  This is our solemn promise to moth­ers like Sarah Shay who joins us today, 93 years old, who has hon­ored her son, Major Don­ald Shay, Jr., miss­ing in action for 42 years.  There she is.  Sarah, thank you for your courage.  God bless you.  (Applause.)

This is the promise we’re ful­fill­ing today to the Meroney fam­ily of Fayet­teville, Arkansas.  Forty-three years after he went miss­ing, we can announce that Army Cap­tain Vir­gil Meroney, III, is com­ing home, and he will finally rest in peace.  (Applause.)

Some have called this war era a scar on our coun­try, but here’s what I say.  As any wound heals, the tis­sue around it becomes tougher, becomes stronger than before.  And in this sense, finally, we might begin to see the true legacy of Viet­nam. Because of Viet­nam and our vet­er­ans, we now use Amer­i­can power smarter, we honor our mil­i­tary more, we take care of our vet­er­ans bet­ter.  Because of the hard lessons of Viet­nam, because of you, Amer­ica is even stronger than before.  (Applause.)

And finally, on this anniver­sary and all the years to come, let us remem­ber what binds us, as one peo­ple.  This is impor­tant for all of us, whether you fought in the Viet­nam War or fought against it, whether you were too young to be shaped by it.  It is impor­tant that our chil­dren under­stand the sac­ri­fices that were made by your troops in Viet­nam; that for them, this is more than just a name in his­tory books.  It’s impor­tant that we know the les­son of a gift once left at this Memorial.

It was towards the end of the day, and most of the tourists and vis­i­tors had departed.  And there it was — a foot­ball hel­met, black with white stripes, and a wrist­band.  And with them was a hand­writ­ten note.  And it was from a young man, still in high school.  And mind you, this was more than two decades after Viet­nam.  That high school stu­dent was born years after the war had already ended.  But in that short, hand­writ­ten note he cap­tured the rev­er­ence — the bonds between gen­er­a­tions — that bring us here today.

The let­ter began, “Dear Viet­nam Vet­er­ans, here are two things from me to you that I think you should have.”   He explained that it was his hel­met from midget foot­ball and his wrist­band from his senior year.  So today I want to close with the words he wrote:

In these two pieces of equip­ment, I was allowed to make mis­takes, cor­rect them, grow and mature as a per­son.  How­ever, that was on my bat­tle­field.  You didn’t get the chance to do that on your bat­tle­field.  Some of you were forced to grow up too fast; all of you died too soon.  We do have many things in com­mon, though.  We both have pride, heart and deter­mi­na­tion.  I’m just sorry you guys had to learn those qual­i­ties too fast.  That is why I’m giv­ing you what I grew up with.  You are true heroes and you will never be forgotten.

That’s from a high school kid, born decades after the end of the war.  And that cap­tures the spirit that this entire coun­try should embrace.

Vet­er­ans, fam­i­lies of the Viet­nam War, I know the wounds of war are slow to heal.  You know that bet­ter than most.  But today we take another step.  The task of telling your story con­tin­ues. The work of per­fect­ing our Union goes on.  And decades from now, I hope another young Amer­i­can will visit this place and reach out and touch a name.  And she’ll learn the story of ser­vice­mem­bers  – peo­ple she never met, who fought a war she never knew — and in that moment of under­stand­ing and of grat­i­tude and of grace, your legacy will endure.  For you are all true heroes and you will all be remembered.

May God bless you.  May God bless your fam­i­lies.  May God bless our men and women in uni­form.  And may God bless these United States of Amer­ica.  (Applause.)
Read more: http://www.foxnews.com/politics/2012/05/28/transcript-president-obama-memorial-day-remarks-at-vietnam-war-memorial/#ixzz1wGuMxQNq

 

Cancel Reply
AMVETS Career Cen­ter Online

Join Now button for AMVETS Log In button for AMVETS Donate button for AMVETS

Contact AMVETS

  • 1-877-726-8387
  • amvets@amvets.org
  • 4647 Forbes Blvd. Lanham, MD 20706

cover of American Veteran Magazines winter 2012 Issue

About AMVETS

AMVETS Latest Tweets

  • Here comes the new Stolen Valor Act we've been waiting for. http://t.co/LQkyCDb2JF
    May 22, 2013 - 7:32 am
  • Vets deserve a soft landing in employment http://t.co/4KFT3F99h1
    May 22, 2013 - 7:30 am
  • Report: More than 85,000 veterans treated for injuries involving sexual abuse | The Raw Story http://t.co/SdpVOzubnT
    May 22, 2013 - 7:27 am

National Ser­vice Foundation

National Ladies Auxiliary

National Sons of AMVETS

AMVETS Rid­ers

Quar­ter­mas­ter

(c) 2013 AMVETS