OPINION ;- Page 4 The Michigan Daily> Saturday, November 13, 1982 The Vietnam Memorial: Some reflections By Janet Rae WASHINGTON - We.had wandered along the Mall for more than an hour, relishing the last throes of one of Washington, D.C.'s spectacular Indian summers. "It's somewhere between the Washington Monument and the Lin- coln Memorial," we had been told. As much as our feet were beginning to hurt, we were determined to cover every square inch of that vast territory until we had seen it for ourselves. We had been told it wasn't complete yet, that the workmen were still car- ving name after name into the polished black granite. My friend Vonnie was a baby when her uncle was killed in Viet- nam. She had heard so many stories as a child about the man she had never met. She didn't want to share her first sight of his "memorial" with the crush of tourists due in for the dedication ceremonies the following week. The search became a game. We were laughing when Vonnie first caught sight of it, slashed deeply into the rolling lawn. Her face smoothed abruptly into silence. I remember a chill moving slowly along my spine. A waist-high picket fence kept us from running our fingers over the gleaming stone. The names were white scratches stretching 10 feet high at the center of the massive "v" formed by the monument walls. Even at our obligatory distance, our reflec- tion shone back at us, flecked with name after name after name. It's dedication day at the new Vietnam memorial. A veteran carrying a giggling blond-haired girl in his arms moves through the crush of people surrounding the walls. He pauses to read a name, moving closer to the wall to caress it. "Daddy, daddy--look at me, " squeals his daughter, patting the reflection of her shining face through the etched names. "Yes, honey. You are beautiful," her father says, moving on down the cement walkway. Vonnie stood motionless gazing at the monument. Not another person was in sight. Only the reverberating engines of jetliners cruising low over the Potomac on their way to National Airport broke the silence. We could see a squirrel leaping across one of the top of the walls, stop- ping now and then to lean precariously over the wall, sniffing at the polished surface. A middle-aged man strains on his tiptoes near the monument's apex, holding the wooden staffs of two small. American flags against the wall in a "v" shape to outline his son's name. A television camera crew moves in. One of the crew members turns to a graying woman a few feet away insisting she join her husband by the wall. "No, I can't. I'll cry," she said, as friends lead her forward, pulling, her hand up to join her husband beside the flag. She turns, flushed, toward the wall. "This way, please, " the cameraman demands. She turns her head briefly toward the camera, then quickly moves away from the wall, pushing people aside as she flees. "I don't know anything about this war," Vonnie whispered. "I don't know anything about war at all. Our generation never had its war like all the others." She fell silent again, still staring at the black wall. The grass at the base of the walls is strewn with long-stemmed roses, potted plants, homemade Christmas wreaths, and needlework wall hangings, each dedicated by a small note to a platoon or an individual soldier. A veteran dressed in battle fatigues, one sleeve hanging empty at his side, breaks from the crowd. Hastily, he places a small light box at the base of the wall and rushes away. The crowd leans forward to look inside the box. Carefully arranged on mounds of cotton are four medals, one of them a Purple Heart. Without a word, I left Vonnie alone for a while there by the fence. She and I had been living in Washington, city of cold marble and patriotism, for two months. When we had seen the Marine Corps memorial and larger-than-life soldiers raising an American flag at Iwo Jima, we had enjoyed a rousing debate on whether a nation should glorify war. Our trip to the Pentagon's room honoring Medal of Valor recipien- ts had ended with a heated discussion of U.S. arms policy. It was dark by the time we left the Vietnam war memorial. We walked home in silence. Rae, a Daily staff writer, is spen- ding this term working as an intern for the Washington bureau of The Los Angeles Times. 4 0 Edited and managed by students at The University of Michigan Sinclair 4 (Rjc. t .L 7 -Q, Th Vol. XCIII, No. 57 420 Maynard St. Ann Arbor, MI 48109 Editorials represent a majority opinion of the Daily's Editorial Board High hopes; low turnout / UJLL OF CouRSE'E TEE ARE A FEw QJ UGS LEFT Tit IS is LL HOLD up au RSC~kET)ULE 40 T HE LOW turnout ,for Thursday's convocation on the nuclear arms race doesn't say much for the freeze movement's support. It says even less for students. All the signs had pointed to a resoun- ding success for the convocation. It had a national, scope--500 such con- vocations were held simultaneously at colleges across the country. It had big names-here, figures such as Harold Shapiro and Sen. Carl Levin turned out to back the event. The only thing missing, really, was the students--only 150 or so people showed up, and pitifully few of them were enrolled at the University. Perhaps it's not surprising that hor- des of students failed to materialize; the problem of social and political apathy on campus is common knowledge. What is surprising is that students failed to show up for a forum so much in their own interest. The freeze movement has sparked such high hopes at the University. Die-ins in front of the LSA Building have thrived. Student government bodies have em- braced the cause wholeheartedly. It seemed that the freeze was an issue universal enough to breathe new life into student activism. But students, at least judging by their interest in the convocation, may be paying nothing more to the freeze than lip service. For many students the freeze may be merely the "in" cause to support-not as controversial as military research or divestment, not as convoluted as University redirec- tion. Student support for the freeze may not extend much beyond sporting a trendy "no-nukes" button. But the message to students with a deep commitment to halting the arms race is not one of discouragement. If ever an issue deserved--or had the potential-to ignite student interest, it is the freeze. Students may be too in- volved in piling up academic credits to worry about such crusades, some argue. The arms race, however, is the one cause that is most intimately tied to everyone's future. Solving it, in fact, is a prerequisite to having any sort of future at all. The low student turnout is more of a challenge than an indictment. As President Shapiro said, it places an even greater burden on those who did show up to spread the word that the world needs an end to nuclear mad- ness. A' 0 . ' r , __-_ - r -- ,. ; ,,- w P-W- LETTERS TO THE DAILY: 6 Candy is dandy but books are better MPAj N OW -HE MXMASTERP' ACP --- R PE41 . t l.+R To the Daily: Your editorial of November 10 on removing the vending machines from the Graduate and Undergraduate Libraries raised some interesting questions about library use. We believe that we have some different ideas on what is impor- tant. Of concern to us is the deterioration of studygfacilities. You yourselves graphically describe book destruction due to food in your most impressive journalistic style. You also point out (disapprovingly)thatsome people do think that libraries should be "quiet and spotless," as opposed to their present con- dition. We feel that the prime commitment of libraries should be storage and access to books and other study and research materials. You, on the other hand, in- dicate that the prime commit- ment of the libraries is "con- venience and accessibility of the lounges, but, in a way, it really doesn't matter." What really does seem to matter to you is the "right to junk food." The Daily implies that readily available food is as important to a library study situation as undamaged materials. We enjoy the lounge con- veniences as much as anybody; in fact, we're regulars at the Grad lounge. However, with these conveniences there's bound to be abuses which ruin our materials and study facilities in a very real fashion. If food and library materials can't exist together, which would the Daily editors rather see go? It's a mat- ter of priorities. We feel that libraries are for reading and thinking-not eating and drinking. It's clear that the Daily's position would deteriorate the quality of academics in order to avoid walking to Stop-N-Go. We hope that you write another editorial after re-weighing the crucial right to junk food againt the preservation of study e0- vironment and library research materials. -Gregory Buechae Michael Growe Phil Argiroff November it Daily, student governmen To the Daily: Student governments, although they are relatively young as organizations and have little power in University government, have achieved definite gains for students. Yet, the Daily regularly chides student governments on their legitimacy and effec- tiveness for students. faculty, and administrators com- plain about the quality of the Daily's journalism. I have been misquoted and misunderstood by Daily writers in several different articles. One could even argue that the Daily's approach is inap- propriate for this University s student newspaper. The Daily could renlv. "If you tsflawed : increased student interest and participation. It seems that the student organization of the Daily and its problems are not so dif- ferent from those of student governments. A more positive at, titude, urging intereset discussion, and involvement would benefit the Daily, student rtn _ ««m _ r a _ rn . in 4n