this one’s for you, Eddie
As my friends and family in the U.S. celebrate Memorial Day today, I’d appreciate
it if they would hoist one in the memory of Eddie Weekfall. We went through the
well-structured hell of Marine Corps boot camp together.
Eddie was from the mean streets of East St. Louis, Illinois, a strapping soul brother
whose anger and passion blazed like searchlights in his eyes. After a rough start in
the roughest of environments, we became friends.
Just before we left boot camp, a drill instructor told us our basic MOS’s (Military
Occupational Specialty). These assignments determined where we went after we
all did one more month of tutelage called Infantry Training Regiment (ITR). I
knew I would be an 0100 (administrative clerk) because I had extended my
enlistment one year to guarantee it. I figured it was the best way to increase my
chances of getting back alive.
Eddie’s assignment was 0300, infantry. I remember the look on his face, a quick
wince as he realized what that meant. Eddie and I went to different units for ITR.
I never saw him again. I believe he went on to Vietnam. I went to another month
of training, then to my first duty station in Georgia. I left there in August ’67 for
my overseas tour.
In Okinawa I had access to a list of all Marine casualties, which I checked daily.
In early December, I found out that Eddie had been killed by an explosive device.
What I would like you to consider today if you will honor Eddie is this: are the wars
that the U.S. so readily enmeshes itself in worth the loss of blood and treasure that
inevitably ensues? Do those who perish really die “for freedom” or “not in vain”?
What do those phrases even mean?
I implore you to look bey0nd emotional rhetoric created by calculating corporate
hacks to promote sales. How many rich kids go into combat? I have no idea what
Eddie’s last thoughts were, but if they were like those that still haunt me, I’m proud
to ask them for him as well.
This one’s for you, Eddie.
