THE WALL OF FACES

Sir, though we never met in this life, I feel your presence like a weight in the air solemn, steady, proud. I write this message with the full gravity of what it means to remember a man like you who gave everything, the last full measure of devotion, for those who stood beside him and for a country that too often struggles to understand the price. Your name, LCPL Abraham R. Derryberry III, stands carved not only in stone but into the memory of those who lived because of your courage. I had the honor of meeting your brother, and in that brief encounter, I saw you. He spoke your name with pride that couldn’t be hidden and sorrow that refused to be smothered. There was a flicker in his eyes, grief tempered by love, loss edged with honor. He misses you. That much was clear.
I was in Saigon when you left us. The city was a surreal place—hazy heat, restless energy, the rhythm of choppers overhead and the weight of anticipation pressed into every heartbeat. We all knew loss was just a breath away, a heartbeat misstepped, and yet we held fast. But when news travels that a Marine like you has fallen, it’s not just a name on a report. It’s a fracture in the brotherhood. We feel it deep, in our bones. The Silver Star you received is a glimmer of what you gave. The words in that citation, gallantry, bravery, conspicuous valor—are medals in ink, but I know they can't capture the fire in your spirit, the split-second decisions, the selflessness in action. I don’t need to read the paperwork to understand who you were. Men like you wrote your legacy in the sand and smoke of battle; in the way you made others stronger just by standing among them. It takes a rare kind of strength to run toward fire, to lift others when your own knees tremble, to hold the line not out of obligation but out of love. I don't know what moment defined your final breath, but I know, because I’ve known Marines like you, that you faced it head-on. I imagine you held to your training, but more than that, to your character. You protected others, because it was the only way you knew how to be. Your story, like too many, ended in youth. But unlike most, it echoes forward. It echoes in your brother’s voice when he speaks of you. In the way his eyes search a horizon only he can see. In every step he takes to honor you, not just in words, but in the life he’s lived since. I offer you my deepest salute, Marine. Rest easy. We’ve got the watch. Semper Fidelis.
A Fellow Veteran, Gregory Campbell
Saigon, 1968

Picked up newspaper and you were gone, my friend. It still hurts

Thank you for your service to our country so long ago sir. I am 73 and have lived a long and fulfilling life. It is tragic you never had that same opportunity. May you rest in eternal peace.

"Greater love hath no man, than that man lay down his life for a friend."

Semper Fi, Marine...you did good.

Rest In Peace Richard