Although your pride in us was evident, I do not think we ever properly expressed how proud we are of you. After meeting a small number of our regiment’s veterans, I know that the soldiers currently serving in our battalion are standing on the shoulders of giants. We will continue to stand firm and continue the lineage of which we are all so proud.
SFC Gonci, SSG Allman and CPT Panaro at the 2004 Reunion
Banquet
I know that America is a better place because of the soldiers of your generation. This year, we saw an airport full of strangers applaud SSG Allman when it was announced that he was injured in Iraq and that it would take him a moment to board the aircraft. We saw United Airlines upgrade a soldier to business class because he was wearing his DCUs and returning to duty in Iraq. When I think about what Vietnam veterans endured when they returned home, it saddens me, but I also know that the support we now enjoy comes from the fact that veterans and soldiers like you refuse to allow us to be treated so poorly. Please know that we are grateful.
CPT Mike Panaro
To fully understand our uncertainty, you have to understand that prior to Peach’s call my dad never mentioned his time in the Army or in Vietnam. It was not that he was bitter or angry, quite the contrary, he just did not talk about it and did not want to talk about it. The answer to any questions that were asked was usually a calm but final – “I don’t really remember. It happened a long time ago.”
After Peach located my dad, there were some difficult and amazing months. There had always been questions about his time in Vietnam – especially those last few days – which remained unanswered. He had never pursued answers or had any wish to reconnect to those with whom he served, but the phone calls and emails started the ball rolling. Memories long forgotten filled the first few months after Peach’s call; some of them were hilarious, some disturbing, and some are bittersweet in the knowing. We were thankful that Peach had not let my dad hang up, and that in her wonderful and calming way, she opened the door.
Of course, that was just the first of many Twilight Zonesque moments. I learned that my dad helped steal an outhouse and that he was a smart-ass back then too. I heard stories about illegal drinking, spiked “soda,” the terrors of elephant grass, “wonderful” Wunder Beach, and so many more. I heard stories I would have paid to hear when I was a teenager; breaking curfew would have been a walk in the park with that type of ammunition!
There were also more serious moments. We asked about what happened on January 15, 1969 and those who were there graciously shared very painful and very emotional memories. Learning how that event had affected so many others was a powerful message about the connectivity of life. The reunion gave us an opportunity to mourn and celebrate together.
Even months after the 2004 reunion, my parents and I still find ourselves trying to explain and understand why the reunion is such a wonderful experience. There is a poem by Emily Dickinson that reads in part, “We can find no scar, But internal difference, Where the meanings are.” This is what I found among the men of the 1/77th; time has healed their scars but they are somehow different, set apart. They have shared events both painful and wonderful that I can never truly be privy to, but in knowing them and in hearing their stories, my life is richer.
The men of the 1/77th fought together, shed blood together, mourned together, laughed together, and are now healing their last remaining wounds together. They are a band of brothers. And I am grateful to be part of the family for one very special week each year.
Nicole Dubois