As most people know already, "The Wall that Heals," a replica of the Vietnam Memorial Wall in Washington D.C will be coming to Marked Tree in the month of September. I went to one of the wall meetings and I was assigned a pen pal who is a Vietnam veteran. His name is SGT Paul D. Sicca. He has told be several stories about his life during and after the war.

He had been going down the wrong path in life and decided to enlist in the army. He was sent to Fort Gordon, Georgia for training, and then he was sent to Germany for more training. After 20 months, he got his orders to go to Vietnam, which he volunteered for. He joined the C 2nd Battalion 5th Cavalry Airmobile unit. He was sent by helicopter to Com Rod Bay Base Camp. Within the first ten minutes of arrive, his unit was already receiving fire. With those ten minutes he realized that he was not welcomed there and he had earned his Combat Infantry Badge. About a month later he was promoted to Sergeant and made him squad leader.

He has received three bronze stars, also the air medal, Vietnam certification combat and he was wounded and received three purple hearts. "People ask me if I ever got used to it," he told me, "How can you get used to somebody shooting at you all the time?"

He said that one of the saddest parts of war is actually leaving. "When you are about to leave and all your comrades are still there, that's when leaving is suddenly very hard, you look back and see their faces for the last time. Tears come because they are all your brothers, men who you fought side by side with. We will be now and forever truly a band of brothers."

He's told me stories of having to walk through rice patty fields and end up covered in leeches.

This next part really affected me, I think its best straight from him:

"I just wanted the American people to be proud of me and to be thankful that I cam home alive. But when I returned home, people threw eggs at me at the airport and called me a murderer and a baby killer. I was so hurt and disappointed that my people would do this. I think that was the saddest and scariest time of my life. My homecoming wasn't what I expected. I think I had more tears in my eyes than I ever had. There were no people welcoming us home, no flags waving, no bands playing. I don't ever remember any young or old people saying, "Welcome home, son."

There was this time we had left Fort Lewis Washington State on a flight to Chicago, where I was to transfer to another flight to BWI (Balto Washington International). I sat down next to two young ladies. I had my uniform on. One of the girls asked me did I just come back from Vietnam and I replied yes and that I was on my way home. Then she said to me, "You know, most of us really don't want you here." I asked her why. Her response was seen on TV, "How could you kill those women and children?" I told them that it was not true. The girls asked the flight attendant to change their seats and as they were leaving, I will never forget, they said, "We hate you for what you have done to the people of the Republic of Vietnam." But through it all, I still found a way to smile as tears came to and say to them, "Good luck, God bless you."

My girlfriend back home sent me a Dear-John letter. She told me she was not going to write to me anymore. She said her friends told her that what I was doing was a terrible thing. She had met someone else that she loved more. I wrote to her once more, you see, we were together for six years and had planned to get married. I really did not get a good answer from her. Her name was Beth. When I came home, I never saw her again. I did try to call her when I got back, but I didn't get a response from her.

It was a terrible time 1968-to 1960. But I did meet a lady in 1969, her name was Bonny Lee. We were married in 1970. We have one son, his name is Vincent Paul…

People stop me and call me a hero, but in return, I say to them, "You know who the heroes are? They are the young men who died on the battlefields in that place called Vietnam. Guys who did not make it back alive. Those are your heroes. Those 55,000 names engraved in the wall at the war memorial in Washington DC." No matter how long I live, those names of my comrades will surely forever be my brothers, my friends, and my heroes."

As you can see, once he got back from war there was nothing but bad things happening all around him, he was being treated like dirt. Our American soldier. But did he ever loose his temper, no, instead he looked at them and simply said, "God bless you." I haven't met him yet, I will this month when the wall comes, but I already know such much about this brilliant man. I know his is strong, positive, dedicated, trustworthy, devoted, and proud. And I can also call him friend.

He told me in his last letter, "I hope you will tell this story to all of your friends and students at your high school and in your paper. Dustin, tell all young and old my story, how we lived and died for your town, Marked Tree, AR and for every small town and every city in this great place called 'America.'" And I have just told only a mere fraction of his story of war, bloodshed, tears, heartache, and most of all VICTORY.

God bless our troops. Show them you care. Show them you love them and come see the wall on September 25-28. They will be there, will you?

God bless you,

Dustin Hood