The night Bill Clinton was voted into power, I was awakened about 3 a.m. by the ghosts of my fallen comrades from Vietnam.
They stood around my bed staring at me. They looked so young, 18, 19, 20 years old, my age at the time. The memories flooded back. There was Pete, the first boy killed from my Special Forces Class by a sniper. There was my good friend Morgan, a door gunner killed three days before his time to go home. Dave who was killed after a direct hit from a b-40 rocket. Al who was killed suspended in a harness under a helicopter when it took a hit in the tail rotor from a B-40 rocket. The team leader assistant team leader and four members of Recon Team Fleur de lis who were killed in Laos on a mission that I just missed because of training. My twelve friends that were killed Thanksgiving Day when their truck hit an antitank mine and I had to help pick up the pieces. Roy Salinas, my old phase 1 instructor and his Company Commander, who were killed by friendly fire. There were many others, and behind them stood a crowd of Cambodians and South Vietnamese that I trained and fought beside. These were men who were better than me, braver than me. Great men, honorable men. This country OWES these men.
Pete stepped forward and said, "We just heard that a pot smoking, hippie draft-dodger was just voted into the Presidency of the United States and is now in charge of all the land, air, and sea forces, is this true?" "Yes," I replied. Pete asked "Is he the same person that attended a socialist school in England and was indoctrinated in Russia?" "Yes," I replied. Pete looked at me with sad eyes and asked, "Darrell, how did this happen?"
Pete," I replied, "The American people voted their pocket books." Pete asked, "What does that mean?" I replied, "Clinton made promises. He told the gays they would have more rights, the poor would get free insurance, minorities would get more money and benefits, the elderly would get more entitlements, abortionists will get more money, Hollywood star's property values would go up, the college kids would be guaranteed high paying jobs. He promised he would balance the budget, clean up crime by disarming honest citizens, increase government spending on Medicare and Medicaid and much more by taxing only the people he didn't make promises to.
Again, Pete asked, "How could the American people believe this? Do the American people have so little character that they can be bought-off by promises? Are they so willing to sacrifice their integrity and vote for this man for money? Don't they realize that because of his actions the enemy was strengthened causing many more Americans to die?" I replied, "Pete, you don't understand the times. People now don't believe character is an issue. They believe Clinton was patriotic for dodging the draft and embracing the enemy.
At that Pete's mouth dropped open. He turned his back on me and spoke to the group. "If this is the attitude of our countrymen, then we have truly died in vain." He spun around rapidly and faced me. His eyes were glowing. "Tell the American people to stay away from our monuments and their wall of shame. Tell them that if they want this draft-dodger for a leader because he promises them riches and power, then they are not worthy of our sacrifice." With that they all turned their backs and disappeared.