I’ve known for a long time that a third man from my high school was killed in action during the Vietnam War, but he was several years older than I was. I didn’t know him, and nobody I’ve met could tell me anything about him,.

That’s why I haven’t mentioned U.S. Army Capt. Samuel Gilmore Umstot Jr., when I’ve talked about Jim Bosley and Craig Haines, my friends from Keyser High whose names also appear on The Wall — the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.

This has troubled me, for reasons not everyone would understand.

However, a few months ago, we carried a letter to the editor from Steve Brinkmeier, who lives in Illinois. He had served with Umstot and wanted help finding his relatives. I was on vacation at the time, and a few weeks passed before I e-mailed him to ask if he’d had any success.

I told him I’d found the following entry from former Sgt. Ken Brown on one of the Web sites that carries memorials to fallen servicemen:

“Capt. Umstot was a Physician Assistant and was not required to be in the field. He died ministering aid to a new guy we nicknamed ‘Horse.’ Medic Kenneth L. Martin died at this same position. North of Loc Ninh, southside of Hiway 14A, just below Hill 222.”

Brinkmeier wrote back that he had heard from some of Umstot’s family and talked on the phone with his daughter, Ann, which he said “was most rewarding.”

He said: “Capt. Umstot was a medical physician’s assistant. I was a Recon medic under his command. This means we were the first in and the last out. I only knew Capt. Umstot for a short time, but what I remember about him is that he was always concerned about his men and wanted to be with them at all times.”

He told me he became interested in finding Ann after meeting the same Ken Brown at a Big Red One (1st Infantry Division) reunion.

“Ken had told me that she was searching for any info regarding her dad. Knowing that I had his photo, and had known him while I was serving there, I knew it was my duty to try to find her and somehow get this photo to her. Ken Brown was there with him. This whole experience has brought everything to the present for me,” he wrote.

I found another memorial site that included this:

“My father was career military, though it was short-lived. He loved what he did and always put forth his best effort. He volunteered for his tour, leaving behind a wife and two small children ... but felt compelled to serve his country in any way he could.

“During his service as a physician’s assistant in the ‘Big Red One,’ I am certain he touched many lives. Not only those of his fellow servicemen, but also of many civilian children and villagers in Vietnam, as I have letters and photos which attest to this fact. Mementos which now are among the few I have of the father I never truly got to know, but carry with the greatest of pride in my heart.

“He gave all for his country, and with that I lost the opportunity to know the father who gave me life. I could not see his face in the crowd when I graduated high school or received my college diploma. He was not there to walk me down the aisle or relish the moment that his first-born grandchild came into this world, but he is not forgotten.

“He will live on in the lives of his grandchildren as I teach them all I can of a man I barely knew. Do not forget our veterans, regardless of your views on war. Look beyond the names on this Wall and envision the individuals just like you and I. Through them hundreds, if not thousands of lives have been touched and changed forever.

“I love you, Daddy. God willing, we will meet again and have eternity to catch up.”

It is said that there is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for a friend, and that is what Capt. Samuel Gilmore Umstot Jr. and Pfc. Kenneth Leroy Martin did on Sept. 12, 1968.

Umstot was born on July 22, 1940, in Keyser, W.Va. He is remembered on Panel 44W, Row 42 of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. Martin was born June 25, 1946, in Los Angeles. He is remembered on Panel 44W, Row 39.

Wednesday will be Veterans Day. That being the case, here is part of another e-mail I received recently from a lady whose great-uncle served during World War I.

She said decades passed before he talked about coming home from his generation’s war.

“Much to our surprise,” she wrote, “big tears starting running down his face, and they were not tears of joy but tears of heartbreak. His story was one that he had kept hidden deep in his heart.

“As a young boy returning from two years of military service in France, he walked into his mother’s kitchen expecting to receive a warm welcome. The only words that she spoke were ‘Well, you’re home, are you?’ As he continued to share this experience, we learned that she had never told him she loved him, or ever told him she was proud of him for serving his country or that she was thankful that he had returned home safely,” she said.

The lady now has two grandsons serving in the military and, “As I look at each of them I recall my great-uncle and the hurt he endured his entire life. Please remember our veterans and take the time to give them a hug and tell them that you love them. Time is precious, and opportunities are too often missed,” she said.

Only those who’ve been there and done that know how much it means to hear things like, “Thank you for your service. Thank you for my freedom. Welcome Home.” Too many didn’t, at a time when they most needed it.

Welcome Home, Sam. God bless you for what you did.

I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say that. Even though I never met you, I’m now one of many who will never forget you.