Synopsis- Mike is a veteran of the Vietnam was who thinks he has conquered all of his pain.
He had come to Washington to remember the two men who had died that day when his
platoon was ambushed. It had been just a month before he went home. Michael
had almost died that day too but he had survived the attack by hiding in the mud
until help arrivied.
He was told that the names on the wall was placed by the order of the death.
The date June 18, 1969, was enblazoned on his very soul. He scanned the many
names by that date to find Mark Furman, the native of South Carolina, and Paul
Lighthorse, the Indian who grew up not to far from Mike's own hometown in Texas.
He had attempted to write a song to express his grief over his fallen friends
but never could quite come to grips with what had happened. He finally found
the two names but found his own name there as well.
ROBERT MICHAEL NESMITH----JUNE 18, 1969
No my name should not be there. I didn't die over there. Suddenly a voice in
his head stated. "YES YOU DID MIKE NESMITH. NOW YOU ARE MICHAEL NESMITH AND YOU
ARE NO LONGER JUST MIKE NESMITH. YOU DIED OVER THERE MIKE."
Suddenly he fell to his knees and started to sob, "I DON'T KNOW HOW TO GET IN
TOUCH WITH THE MAN WHO USED TO BE KNOWN AS MIKE!"
He slowly got unto his feet and through bleary eyes noticed on of those so
called "Misplaced Hippies". You know the ones that can't ever get it through
their thick heads that the hippie movement died painfully in its sleep a long
time ago.
"Hey man are you alright?" came a voice that sounded kinda familiar to Michael.
"You look like you saw a ghost." Again the familiar voice.
"Yeah I'm alright. You are right about the ghost though the ghost seems to be
me. I seemed to find my name on the wall. I almost died in Nam and the Army
got their records wrong. I came to the wall to grieve for two of my army
buddies who did die that day and have ended up grieving for them and myself.
You know I think the Army may have gotten it right after all as a part of me did
die that day and well. It wasn't until until now that I realized it. I need to
go back to a time and place where I was alive and young to remember the man I
once was." replied Michael.
"Hey man lets you and me go to the Gormet Cafe. They have the best meatless
hotdogs you can get. I can tell you about my bestest friend in the wholewide
world whose name is on the wall. Just hearing your story makes me think that
perhaps he just may not be dead after all. Also if he is dead well you may have
met him before he died." the familiar voice choked out.
Michael Nesmith stared at the names on the Vietnam Wall.
