Pilgrimage to The Wall

Washington, D.C.

For some time, I have wanted to go to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington D.C. I have visited before, but have never visited with a mission. And so, riding to The Wall became my personal pilgrimage, and maybe closure. The proximity of the Moto Guzzi National Rally made it more possible.


I left the Moto Guzzi National Rally one day early. My reason was the weather. It also meant that I was going to the memorial one day earlier than planned taxing my mental and emotional preparedness. It turned out to be a good decision. For that night, a storm rolled through the area downing trees and power lines. D.C., like many other cities, was in gridlock. I would never have been able to ride to The Wall if I had waited one day as planned.

Brent on guard dutyUncle Sam called me up for active duty in March, 1970; I was drafted. In November, I received orders for Vietnam and was home by Christmas on leave. In January, 1971, I went to Vietnam and was assigned to a Signal Corps unit on the Mekong River at Binh Thuy in the Can Tho Province, the 52nd Signal Battalion, HQ Company. In October, I received an early out and was home three weeks before my 21st birthday. When we processed out of Long Binh, we were ordered to turn in all our jungle fatigues. The only thing we could keep were our boots. We came home in khaki uniforms. I have kept those boots for 40 years.

You have probably heard many times that the soldiers returning from Vietnam were not treated so well. I can attest to that. What happened to our beliefs that all soldiers were welcomed home, just like in the movies about WWII. Not so Vietnam. But, time has changed that with military action and wars in the Middle East, and my personal mission to The Wall was born.


I parked the motorcycle on the street next to the Potomac, about a half-a-mile from the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. I dug through my bags for the things I brought. After securing the bike, I started walking towards the memorial. I pulled out my phone and sent a message to my wife.

TXT: “I am parked and walking to The Wall.”

Lin: “My heart is with you love.”

I nearly lost it reading that text message from Lin. She is the incredible love of my life, I could feel her presence with me. I began to think of all the names on The Wall  and loved ones and family members who never got to express their love or even say goodbye. All that is left is an engraved name on The Wall, and the many objects left behind.

Planning this mission, I wanted to write something to my brothers and sisters on The Wall. I took a copy with me.

I walked the entire length of The Wall, looking at the names and occasionally leaning against the wall. The polished granite is remarkable, for you cannot look at this memorial without seeing yourself. I walked back to towards the middle and found an appropriate spot. I placed my 41-year-old boots on the curb and the copy of my prose behind it.


Pilgrimage to the Wall

Like so many other veterans from the Vietnam War
I wonder why my name is not on this wall. Lucky, I guess.
I returned home with only memories and my boots.

So many names etched in stone
on a black granite wall
memorializing an unpopular war.

The experiences of those who returned
are burned into our memories
and have marked on our lives.

Good memories of friendships and a brotherhood of comrades,
bad memories of warfare, destruction and death.
Memories of coming home to an unappreciative nation.

Our country has learned a great lesson from us,
taught by our experience, the lessons of war and the returning soldier.
You on The Wall would be so proud.

We have learned to separate the politics of war from the warrior.
No matter the conflict, our soldiers are now treated as the heroes
that they are, and all are welcomed home.

Rest in peace brothers and sisters.
We think of you often.
You are missed.

# # #

More than forty years ago, I returned from that land that caused our nation so much grief and changed so many lives. I have come to pay homage to The Wall—a pilgrimage. I am returning my boots, for I no longer need them.

D. B. Miller, Sgt. E-5, US Army, Republic of Vietnam, 1971.

 I stepped back, saluted and then walked away.

TXT MSG to Lin: “Mission accomplished.”

As I walked away, I turned to look back. Visitors to the memorial were already starting to stop and read to see just what was left behind.




Some photographed my boots. I heard one young boy say, “Look! Are those real boots?” Yes they are. They were mine. They belong to the memorial, now.

Rest in Peace Brothers and Sisters on The Wall, and Welcome Home to those who returned.

Peace be with you.


Note: Published on July 4th, Independence Day. Enjoy your freedoms.

8 Replies to “Pilgrimage to The Wall”

  1. Well done, beautifully spoken, brother. Thank you! Mission accomplished, indeed.

    Jim Osbun
    Captain, Field Artillery
    2nd Battalion 12th Artillery
    Phu Loi Base Camp, RVN
    July 1970 to July 1971

  2. Thank you Brent…

    Thank you sharing one of the most powerful tributes I’ve ever read. Thank you for your service. And thank you for our conversation this morning. Well done Brent! Welcome home…

  3. The 3 part series you wrote and produced covering the Moto Guzzi rally was a very enjoyable experience for me. Particularly loved the professional interview you did with Melissa Holbrook. Your tribute to the Vietnam vets was moving. Thanks so much for this great 3 part report.
    Cpt, US Army, Artillery, VN 1969-70.
    Thanks, Bill

  4. Yes, Bill, there were three stories at the Rally, this one after leaving the Rally, and there is one more story to tell–coming home from the Rally after all those storms. Five in all. Stay tuned. –Brent

  5. Visiting Brothers in arms….and writing to all of us about it….what a great way to pay a tribute all your friends….

  6. Hello…I’m John’s Mom. I’m so glad that John sent this to me to read. It is both sad and beautiful. I have never seen the wall but hope to do so before the end of my earthly journey. Thanks Brent for sharing this experience and thank you for your service to our country. I do hope to meet you one day.
    God Bless,

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