My Introduction to Them

The book begins in Paris, but I received the spark that ignited my search at Freedom Park.
An excerpt from "RESURGAM Standing on the Ground of Remembrance" by Jean A. Niedert. (Review the list of RESURGAM's Chapters.)

Ten Years Ago
It took only two words to get my attention.
I was supposed to be traveling to the University of Florida's homecoming, but I wanted to avoid my ex-fiancée and I decided not to go. I kept the day off from work to enjoy a day to myself in town. During lunch, I read the local section of the paper and learned the traveling replica of the Washington DC Vietnam Veterans Memorial was on exhibit at the Freedom Park. I decided to visit.
My first impression was the swelling whiteness of names that snatched a bigger chunk of each succeeding black panel. There were so many names, all names equal and unknown to me. I wondered, how do you approach something with so many unknown names? The crisp white serif letters drew me in. They formed words that communicated a name, and each name represented a life. And each life was surrounded by a family and friends. The realization was simple, but it didn't strike me until I was standing there facing the wall of names. They were all unknown lives to me. I knew not one.
"Who were you?" I silently asked an individual name on the wall. I looked around to see what others were doing. An older woman was kneeling near the wall. She held a piece of paper firmly over a name on the wall, while she tenderly rubbed a pencil over the paper. Tears filled her brown eyes when she spoke to the wall as if speaking to someone nearby, "He has a little boy he never saw." A single rose stuck between two panels drew attention to a line claiming a name that made a difference in someone's life. A handful of yellow wildflowers, their stems intertwined, rested on the red earthen clay next to the wall. Divisional patches and long-stem red roses dressed the base of the black wall. I stared at the roses, their stems stuck in florist vials. The vials, tipped with tapered plastic spears, looked like expended green ammunition cartridges scattered on the ground.
One veteran, dressed in a camouflage shirt and olive fatigue pants, sat cross-legged, fifteen to twenty feet away from the wall. His hands were clasped in his lap and his face looked directly at the wall. He hid his eyes behind aviator sunglasses, his thoughts tightly locked and known only to him. Behind him, migrating geese landed gracefully on the glistening lake in the park.

***
I walked past panel after panel, life after life. I caught the contrast of a white business envelope standing against the black panel marked 47E. I couldn't read the name, but I saw two words tightly scrawled in blue ink.
"I can read the name and find it on the wall," I thought. "Just because I don't know the person doesn't mean I couldn't touch his name."
I wondered who wrote the letter. A mother? A father? A widow? A friend? Perhaps a buddy who was in the same battle? How did the soldier die? Was his helicopter shot down? Did he die during an ambush? What was his story? My attention returned to the letter. What did the letter say? What little mysteries might be sealed inside? How much the person is missed? What life is without him? But then, what did I know about war? I could never know the pain or suffering that might be sealed inside.
Curiosity moved me closer to the letter. I squinted to better focus my eyes and read the name. As my mind comprehended the words, a barreling blast burst through my heart. The tightly scrawled handwritten words quietly announced: "Alpha Company."
My eyes remained transfixed on the two words scrawled on the white business envelope – Alpha Company. I heard a whisper that resonated deep within me, "Remember them."
And I wondered, how do I remember them? Who were these unknown soldiers? What happened to Alpha Company? Why was there a letter addressed to an entire company? This unknown force humbled me with exacting precision. It spoke a piercing truth, "You think you know so much, but you don’t." Alpha Company had blown away what I had believed to be true. I thought I was going to read the name of one soldier, and find it on the wall. That was to be the story’s end, but instead I discovered Alpha Company.
I left Freedom Park carrying the knowledge of their existence and hearing the call, "Remember them."