THE WALL OF FACES

I have great respect and admoration for all vets.
i would like to get some background on mr cressman,
thank you and remember you all are always loved

I wear his bracelet with pride and pray for him daily. With love and respect. Diane from Ks.

I spoke to Walt Connelly the day before the 30th anniversary of your shoot-down, via a medium that didn't exist when we were soldiers once, and young. To us, my young brother, you are still that 20-something guy we both knew and treasured. I, too, have heard the stories that you guys may have survived the crash and been herded North. Ironically, I hope to God that it isn't so. Walt and I have spoken with some other folks who remember you, too, and I'm sure that was as much a comfort to him as it was to me.

We weren't Marines, you and I, but we are Always Faithful.

Good Morning Peter,

Well, I hope I get it right this time, these computers sometimes really confuse me. Your plane went down 30 years ago today, the question still remains, did you go down with the plane?

I hope you are at peace, and that your family can find peace and closure to this tragic event in their lives. I am afraid that situations such as this never really find total closure.

I have had the opportunity recently to exchange emails with Kendall Wright from your element at Fairchild's survival school. He speaks very highly of you, seems he would not have made it thru the trek without you. Email was a term unknown when we were young men. It is good to know so many people still remember and still care, and this medium is an excellent way to insure that those of us who remember can make those memories known.

Before I go Pete, remember.....those cigarettes are not good for you.....like flying in a hostile fire zone was?

Pete Cressman was my partner at the Air Force Survival School, Fairchild AFB, WA. One major phase of the program is called The Trek. During the trek, students are taken out in the woods, given an objective, and required to use their training to reach that objective.

I was not in very good shape when I showed up at Fairchild. By the time we got to Trek week, I was a little better off, but not much. I was, by virtue of date of rank, the leader of my section. By the third day of the Trek, because of my poor shape and the many additional demands placed on me as section leader, I was beyond exhaustion. Pete used his incredible sense of humor to help me along through the ordeal.

On the last day, we were still several kilometers from the objective. I was entirely spent, and my plan was to crawl under a bush and die. Pete would have none of it, and jollied me along to the end of the Trek. Those of you who have never been exhausted beyond action cannot understand that I was actully willing to die rather than drive on. Those of you who have can appreciate what Pete did for me.

I learned of Pete's death in an amazing way. My (then) brother-in-law was a pilot in Pete's squadron. He had returned from SEA, and we were having dinner at his parents' house. He pulled out a Stars and Stripes article, describing how his roommate from Da Nang had been shot down. The other crew members were, of course, listed. When I saw Pete's name, the now-familiar emptiness in the pit of my stomach returned once again.

A few years ago, when I was working at McClellan AFB, CA, I went to a Vietnam rememberance ceremony held by the Communications Squadron. I learned there that Pete was one of three (at that time) MIA's remembered by the squadron. They had little alcoves for each of them in their barracks. I was astonished to learn that someone other than me was remembering Pete.

Pete, I stop to talk to you at the Wall every time I'm in DC. I remember you, my brother, and my spirit soars to learn that others, like Walt Connely, do, too.