THE WALL OF FACES

https://twitter.com/PriceofThe/status/1264949648097189889?s=20

To an uncle I never had the privilege of knowing:

You were the brother my mother adored yet we knew little of you beyond a photograph with your beautiful baby daughter, my cousin "Joanie" who beamed at you with joy as you held her steady on toddler legs. You looked at her as if she was the most beautiful thing in the world in her little Korean kimono. After so many years of searching for my mother's family, I sadly found you here.

Perhaps someday, my cousin will find this note and contact me. I can tell her of my late mother's affection for you, and the bronze star in her jewelry box--I believe it was yours, and hope she is in possession of the silver star commemorating your acts of courage. She can tell me of you and your lovely wife, Insook. I look forward to that day.

I am proud to be your niece.

Maurice was a MSGT, Infantry and Intelligence Specialist with the Special Forces (Green Beret) serving as an advisor with a Vietnamese Army on a search and destroy mission when they encountered a hostile force. Maurice was killed by a single gunshot during this battle in Tay Ninh Province, South Vietnam. He was one of the best of the best. His service to his country, dedication to duty and bravery in the line of fire should always be remembered. RIP Maurice, your sacrifice will always be remembered.

Dear MSGT Maurice William Mosher, sir

As an American, I would like to thank you for your service and for your sacrifice made on behalf of our wonderful country. The youth of today could gain much by learning of heroes such as yourself, men and women whose courage and heart can never be questioned.

May God allow you to read this, and may He allow me to someday shake your hand when I get to Heaven to personally thank you. May he also allow my father to find you and shake your hand now to say thank you; for America, and for those who love you.

With respect, and the best salute a civilian can muster for you, Sir

Curt Carter

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

Mary Frye – 1932