The Moving Wall, a traveling half-size replica of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, received an unofficial ceremonial guard from tri-town first responders, veterans and first responders on Wednesday July 16.

The Moving Wall arrived in the tri-town on its way to Wareham. It is currently in place at Wareham Middle School, and will be on the school's track field until August 21.

Before arriving at its Wareham destination, the Moving Wall had to travel down Route 6 through Mattapoisett and Marion. At each end of the journey, honor awaited the wall. Responders gathered at the Park and Ride in Mattapoisett to accompany the Moving Wall. The Wall also passed under an American flag at next to Gilda's Stone Rooster on Route 6 before passing into Wareham.

The scaled-down replica of the Vietnam Memorial in Washington, D.C. is 253 feet long and contains the names of those who lost their lives in the Vietnam War. Over 20,000 people are expected to visit the wall.

At the exhibition, one tent served as a historical tent, filled with memorabilia loaned to the exhibit by local Vietnam veterans. Rochester and Marion, who both participated in bringing the Moving Wall to Wareham, did not lose any soldiers in the war. The two towns were the only ones of all the participating towns that lost no men, pointed out Marion veteran Brad Eames.

The displays often included personal memorabilia; Marion veteran Joe Napoli's items included his numerous war medals, a tin can of rations, and several other items. On the other side of the medal display, a green jacket with the name 'Napoli' fluttered in the slight breeze.

Eames' diary from the war was available for interested visitors to browse through. The diary covered his year-long tour of duty, from his time on the boat to Vietnam and his return. One diary entry, from April 25, 1967, was made available as a copy for visitors to take with them.

The entry read:

Death is a part of war. It is to be expected and accepted when it comes.

But death can come in horrible ways, bizarre ways, incomprehensible ways. Death itself is not tragic; the way of death provides the tragedy.

Today, just outside our perimeter, a Vietnamese boy stepped on or somehow ignited a mine. The explosion was terrific. When the dust settled those present could not find a piece of the boy which was larger than a fist. A human had been, quite literally, blown to pieces.

Helplessly, we stood and watched, as some Vietnamese soldiers combed an area 100 feet in diameter gathering small pieces of flesh and bone, placing them in empty sandbags.

The mother laid beside the hole wailing uncontrollably as she sifted her fingers through the dust and dirt, picking up traces of her son from the soil.

Lt. Bradford N. Eames

A Battery, 1st Battalion, 40th Artillery

April 25, 1967