A Vietnam veteran travels to Washington, D.C.
The white-presenting narrator looks back on what he and his brethren accomplished and all that they sacrificed. Still, he knows that his time is growing short, and he agrees to an honor flight, a journey to pay one’s respects at various war memorials, accompanied by fellow veterans and guardians who care for them—after all, “This could be my final mission,” he muses. In Washington, the tone turns reverential as they place wreaths on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, commemorate the dead, and connect with grateful onlookers and “Rosie the Riveters” on their own honor flight. A sun-dappled spread of the vet pondering the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, dwarfed by the list of names, is an absolute showstopper, visually and emotionally. Returning home, the group receives a pomp-filled welcome, something many Vietnam veterans were denied. It’s an important reminder of an injustice that still reverberates. An afterword informs readers that Gottesfeld acted as a guardian, and his firsthand experiences comes through in the text’s specificity and intensity, as he speaks of “patriotic colors” on departure day and “golden moments” of connection and camaraderie. Tavares brings his whole heart to the quietly masterful pencil and digitally colored images, from dignified elders using mobility devices to proud portrayals of the racially diverse veterans.
Those reading this stirring tribute will remember it well—and agree with the closing words: “It was an honor.”
(notes) (Picture book. 6-12)