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War and suffering The passing of Melvin Fredrickson of Hayfork Mountain was probably not noticed by many. In his latter years his many health problems weighed heavy upon him and it had become very dificult to get around. I knew him as his employer and fellow Vietnam veteran and could relate to the many problems that followed him until the end. His stories were things that books could be written about, especially his enlistment in the United States Marine Corps. His battles in basic training and in the jungles of Vietnam, whether totally true on not, never ceased to amaze us. The story that he told us about a soldier in his squad getting attacked by a tiger at night in the jungle sent chills down my back. Then there was the U.S. helicopter that came into a battle zone while the squad he was in was under fire, and that chopper mistakenly started firing on his men and the only way to stop it, because their radios were damaged, was to shoot it down. They were out of smoke and no one wanted to stand up and get shot, so they had to do what they had to do to stay alive. He had spent way too much time in the environment of a war zone, wounded and damaged in spirit from that conflict, and then he came home. And in many Vietnam veterans' cases—some still in their teens— one moment you're in the jungle pulling the trigger sending men to their deaths, and in the next you're watching your friends get killed; and 24 hours later you were back home walking the streets you left just a year or so earlier. It was a dirty nasty war, but we went. Some of us volunteered and many more were drafted, but whichever way it was, none of us came back the same way we left. And that was Mel. Yes, he was big and tough and yes, he had problems and he even caused a bunch for himself and others, some of which were very negative in nature. Like many vets, Mel headed into the mountains along with his wife. Was he trying to get away from the memories of the war or the problems that were following him? This is something that we'll never know now. I do know that in all the conflicts we have had since World War II, all the men at the top have become disgustingly wealthy directly related to the deaths of so many young men and women on both sides of the conflict. I have seen my fellow veterans now lose their kids to another war that we don't need to be in. Many of these veterans still haven't recovered from the loss of their friends in battle, and now this? All the while the fat cats are getting fatter. Mel lost his wife to cancer, another tragedy piled upon another; and then it was Mel by himself in his outpost on the mountain top. Perhaps he never really came home; perhaps he didn't feel that he deserved the help that the V.A could have and should have given him. Well, now he's free of this world and all of its pettiness, and even though I felt he had burned me and turned against me, I did know him as a friend once that would do anything for me. Some may have known him in a negative way, but I believe I knew him as an injured warrior who has finally earned his rest. There was only one of us who has never made a mistake and he was nailed to a cross. And as they say, "If you haven't walked in my shoes, you don't know where I have been or the demons that visit me at night." Think about this current war; think about just who is paying the price for it. Isn't it time that collectively as a people we put an end to it? We don't need another black marble wall in Washington showing what we've lost. As a people, "we" can be the monument to just how great we can be, and the future generations can say, "And they did it without having to kill anybody." Peace is a state of mind that is attainable for all of us in this reality without having to go where Mel had to go before his time.
See you, buddy.
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