It is fitting to visit the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C., and view the many names of those lost. I have already written about a Saint Ignatius high school classmate, Richard M. Bloom, a casualty from Sept. 20, 1966. One afternoon visiting the memorial wall, I looked for my own name on a whim and found it. Evidently, Michael Corrigan is not that rare a name, only I am Michael Thomas Corrigan and the name I saw on the Vietnam Wall belonged to a Michael Joseph Corrigan. He died on the battlefield from small arms fire in 1968. He was 21. The only similarity was that Michael Joseph came from California, as well, though he was from Los Angeles, not San Francisco where I was born.

It is an odd feeling to see the name of a deceased army soldier with the same first and last name and think about two separate lives, one tragically cut short, the other living with more time, despite the dangers that stalk us all. Michael Joseph has that proud but fresh innocent look we see on new recruits to the military — alive and confident. He never lived to dance to the live rock music at the Woodstock festival. I know we have no actual family relation.

The details according to the information listed are basic: “Michael Joseph Corrigan is among the 33,374 American Gold Star casualties recorded in our archive with close ties to California. This is a substantial number of individuals who gave their lives in service to their country. Our core focus is on the decades spanning World War I through the Vietnam War. Generations of sacrifice and service. Many volunteered to serve. Others were asked to join. Each situation as unique as the individuals involved.”

SERVICE OVERVIEW

Name: Michael Joseph Corrigan

Born: Dec. 25, 1946

From: Los Angeles County, California

War: Vietnam War

Branch: U.S. Army

Rank: Sergeant

Specialty: Light Weapons Infantry

Group: 101st Airborne Division, 1st Battalion, 327th Infantry, E Company

Death: Oct. 4, 1968

Hostile, Killed in Action. Awarded Purple Heart

There it is, simple facts, yet so much is missing. When Michael Joseph died in Vietnam, I was at San Francisco State College at the beginning of a student strike in support of an ethnic studies program.

The strike was bitter and ended in the spring of 1969, but did achieve the first black studies ethnic program in the country. I joined in the strike. Of course, the war in Vietnam was also hotly contested on campus, and I protested the war.

Before college, I was drafted but rejected by the military because of my asthma and given the classification of 1Y, meaning they would call me only during an emergency. While young men in shorts had their papers stamped 1A by an older officer joking about “cannon fodder,” I walked to the “reject desk” where a soldier who looked like Burt Lancaster in “From Here to Eternity” stamped my papers. If accepted, I would have joined the Navy, following the tradition of my father and his brothers during World War II. I often wonder what would have happened if I joined the navy and served in Vietnam.

I also think about Michael Joseph Corrigan and his life if he had survived. Would he have used the GI bill to attend college, whether in Los Angeles or San Francisco? How would he have been received, since so many Vietnam vets felt unappreciated and even reviled?

The next time I am in D.C., I will visit the Vietnam Memorial and find Richard Bloom and Michael Joseph Corrigan. We should all meditate on their loss and sacrifice with the 58,274 other names on that long black granite wall.

Michael Corrigan of Pocatello is a San Francisco native and a retired Idaho State University English and speech communication instructor. He studied screenwriting at the American Film Institute and has authored seven books, many about the Irish American experience.