This year, for a reason I cannot fathom, I find myself terribly affected by Memorial Day.

I am taken back to the era of the Viet Nam war, to my activist days, to my anti-war protests and activities. I remember watching this war on TV...the first time we were taken up close and personal to horrific events far from the comfort and trivialities of our little dailies lives.

I remember the daily body counts. I remember seeing the flag-covered coffins being offloaded from the planes at our military bases. I remember the stricken faces of their families.

I remember the returning servicemen, so many damaged, in body and in mind, never to fully recover. All that camouflage filling the tv screen, the newspaper pages, the weekly news magazines. To this day, I hate camouflage, and when I see kids and young people wearing it, I want to rip it off their bodies and scream, "You have NO IDEA what this is for, what it represents. You are not worthy to have it on your body!"

I remember this time, and these people, my contemporaries, and I weep. I cannot stop the tears from flowing. I am filled with regret for my impotence to have stopped the war long before it finally ended. I am filled with hate for those who spat upon our returning military, who had the gall to think that these battered and wounded young men were the cause of this conflict, and who had the gall to becry and befoul the very people who were charged with keeping us safe and happily innocent in our ignorance.

To our Viet Nam veterans, I say to you: I am so sorry. I apologize. I apologize for my fellow citizens. I am ashamed of them and embarrassed by them. I am ashamed of my own paltry efforts when I was young and I apologize for not having one tenth the courage that you displayed, for not having the courage and strength and intelligence to work harder to free you from that awful place.

Forgive me. I beg you. Forgive all of us. We bow our heads for our lack of serving you as you served us. The tears flow. We cannot stop them.