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Timothy J. Shorten. Richard P. Reynolds Jr. William G. Jerro. David E. Fitzgerald.
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Roger Reitmaier keeps the rubbings of his friend's names from the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall pinned up in his den in Winona. Reitmaier plans to attend the Vietnam Traveling Memorial Wall at Winona State University between Sept. 18 and Sept. 22. (Photo by Paul Solberg/Winona Daily News) |
They were Roger Reitmaier’s friends — men who served their country in Vietnam like he did. He made it home. They didn’t, and now their names are written among the 58,249 on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall in Washington, D.C. A replica of that silent tribute will come to Winona on Sept. 18. The names of the men that war took will travel to the families and the ones who served and survived.
Reitmaier, born in Chicago, graduated from Saint Mary’s University in 1966. His father had fled Germany along with two other brothers before World War II to avoid joining the Hitler Youth and the Nazi army. His father passed on to him a strong sense of duty to the country that he escaped to. He took President John F. Kennedy’s call to serve to heart.
So when he graduated, he joined the Marine Corps. He began as a second lieutenant and would leave a lieutenant colonel. On his way to becoming an artillery officer, he made a new best friend at each phase of training.
Shorten slept in a bunk over Reitmaier’s at Marine Corps Officer Candidate School in Quantico, Va. Reitmaier remembered the gangly man as fun-loving and clumsy. He’d show up to morning formation with pieces of toilet paper on his face to stop the bleeding caused by shaving too hard. Reitmaier also remembered his kindness.“He’d give you the shirt off his back,” he said.
Reynolds and Reitmaier shared a room at Quantico at The Basic School, where Marine Corps officers are trained. The two spent Friday nights in Washington, D.C., charming young women at dances. Reitmaier remembered his friend’s thick New York accent and how the second lieutenant didn’t have a “mean bone in his body.”
When Reitmaier moved on to artillery school at Fort Sill near Lawton, Okla., he made a new friend in Jerro. He was shy and deeply religious man. Reitmaier last saw him in Okinawa, Japan, the day before Jerro would fly into Vietnam.
“When I said goodbye and wished him godspeed, I looked into his eyes and knew I would never see him again,” he said.
He never mentioned that to Jerro. He never had time. Jerro was killed in action Sept. 16, 1967, less than a week after arriving in Vietnam. He was 22.
Shorten died in Quang Tri province on March 31, 1968. Reitmaier said Shorten was charging an automatic weapons emplacement when he was killed by grenade shrapnel. He was 21. Reynolds’ platoon was ambushed on January 20, 1968. He too, was 21.
“I got three best friends,” he said, “and they all got killed.”
Fitzgerald and Reitmaier grew up in South Side Chicago together. They went to grade school and high school, but they grew apart after that. Fitzgerald enlisted in the Army, and Reitmaier joined the Marines. Fitzgerald died in 1969 when he was 24. The U.S. Department of Defense doesn’t know where. Neither does Reitmaier.
The wall
Reitmaier didn’t think highly of the wall at first. It’s dark and in a hole. It felt like a physical manifestation of the depressing feeling he had about how the war, how it was seen at home. He didn’t think it honored the service of his friends the way it should.
That was until Memorial Day in 1983. His brother-in-law convinced him to visit the wall. He became completely immersed by the names. It drew him in and took hold of him. He stood alone there, remembering, save for a cable news reporter standing behind him who asked for an interview.
The reporter ended the questions by asking whether Reitmaier would change anything from his time in Vietnam. Reitmaier said no, he’d do the same thing all over again.
“I just answered the question,” he said. “My country called, and I answered the call.”
That wasn’t the answer the reporter was looking for. She told Reitmaier the interview would be on late at night, so he asked his parents to tape it for him. They never did, because it never aired.
He felt betrayed — not just by the reporter, but by how the war was perceived by the country. How he felt when news anchors went on TV and said the U.S. was losing during the Tet Offensive in 1968. How he thought the service of men like his friends was belittled. How they didn’t get the respect he felt they deserved.
“I don’t need to be put on a convertible in a parade,” he said. “But to simply know you have served your country and be honored for it.”
But he didn’t let that feeling drive him from the wall. His friends were there. So he came back again.
This time, he went early in the morning, so that few people would be around. He sat by the etchings of his friends’ names and said silent prayers for hours. He thought about the people they were.
Reitmaier walked to a grove of trees a short distance away and sat down. A man walked up behind him, only entering Reitmaier’s vision through the corner of his eye. In silence, the man placed his hand on Reitmaier’s shoulder. He never learned the man’s name. They never spoke a word.
“We didn’t have to,” Reitmaier said as his voice softened and faded away.
He wasn’t with his friends when they died. He couldn’t be there to at least hold them and say goodbye. As an officer, he couldn’t gain release to go home and attend their funerals. So their deaths felt like an open sore, one that wouldn’t heal.
“I didn’t have closure,” he said. “I couldn’t hug their moms or dads. I couldn’t cry at the funeral.”
The wall is that closure.
Bringing the names to them
Now, those names, that closure, comes to Winona. On Sept. 18, the Vietnam Traveling Memorial Wall will arrive at Winona State University. It’s a scaled-down version of the wall, standing 6-feet-tall at its apex and spanning about 300 feet.
Veterans and families who haven’t been able to travel to Washington can close their wounds. It will give veterans of other foreign wars a chance to stand next to brothers and fathers who served in Vietnam, and feel, at least in some ways, a little more connected.
Jerry Obieglo, post commander of the Winona VFW and veteran of Operation Desert Storm in 1990, has a brother who served in Vietnam. Having the wall come here is another way to show him respect, by honoring the men who served with him.
“It’s an honor to have the names of all the brave people who were involved with that here,” Obieglo said. “Especially the ones who didn’t come home.”
The wall may also be a chance to have frank discussions about a period in history that divided the nation. Reitmaier said he’s willing to talk to people who have a different perspective on Vietnam than he does or to speak with young men and women who know of the conflict only through books.
Just as long as they are respectful of the names that are on the wall.
“The men I served with were every bit as confident, brave and as loving of our country as those in World War II and the Revolutionary War,” he said. “The best men I ever knew were the people I served with in the Marine Corps in Vietnam.”
Timothy J. Shorten. Richard P. Reynolds Jr. William G. Jerro. David E. Fitzgerald.
They aren’t just names.
Nolan Rosenkrans may be reached at (507) 453-3519 or nolan.rosenkrans@lee.net.
IF YOU GO
The Vietnam Traveling Memorial Wall will be at Winona State University between Sept. 18 and Sept. 22. An opening ceremony will be held at 11 a.m. on the 19th, which will include color guards and speeches by WSU president Judith Ramaley and Gary Gullickson, a local veteran of Vietnam.
A closing ceremony will be held at 6 p.m. on Sept. 21 and will include a bugler rendition of “Taps.” The wall will be open to the public 24 hours a day from when it is erected until when it is torn down.
Volunteers are needed to help visitors find names on the wall and to answer questions. Those wishing to volunteer should contact Ann Kohner at (507) 457-5870 or by e-mail at AKohner@winona.edu.
