

Old couple at the Vietnam Memorial Wall
This is part 2 of a special Veterans Day post featuring “The Wall” by Larry “Aurence” Hancock, USMC, retired, a Vietnam veteran. As mentioned in part 1, Aurence was not a trained artist, but took up painting in mid-life as a means to escape sad and traumatic memories of the war. After his early non-war related works were seen by the public, he changed his focus and paints exclusively to reflect the experiences of his fellow veterans. Two distinct images appear in every painting: the White Dog and fireballs in the sky, and are directly related to his wartime service.
The fireballs in the sky are an obvious reference to war as he and many others experienced it. There was a real white dog, a stray, which appeared at the base one day, and the soldiers enjoyed patting and feeding it scraps, grateful to interact with a creature untouched by the horrors of their situation. As time went on, they noticed something very unusual about the little dog: during times when the war affected their base–gunfire, shells exploding, helicopters both landing with the wounded and flying overhead with guns blazing–the dog always appeared calm and in their midst. At that point, they began to see it as a guardian spirit, and were comforted by its presence.
I did not serve in the military, but as part of commissioning the painting, I described my visit to the Vietnam Memorial shortly after its completion. It was a profound experience, and Aurence used my detailed description of what I saw to create the painting as well as filling it out with some images of his own.
It was an early fall day, slightly overcast, with some color in the trees, but the grass was still green. The people I noticed were these: a gray-haired couple standing close to the wall and hugging each other, a middle-aged woman with three young teenagers standing apart as she stood touching the wall with head bowed, three very tough looking “motorcycle dudes” in denim, chains, long hair and beards gently laying a flower wreath and hugging each other while weeping, and a class of kindergarten children being led by their teachers. Only the children were happy and untouched by the somber atmosphere.
The war is still raging in the sky, which is filled with smoke, explosions and helicopters with guns blazing. The Wall with its mourners and memorial offerings is the transition between the past and present. The only legible name on it is that of Aurence’s beloved childhood friend, Danny D. McGee. When I visited his home to pick up the finished painting, I saw a small yearbook photo of Danny, forever 18, on Aurence’s workspace desk,. The foreground is populated by figures from Aurence’s memories: disabled veterans, some with their families, active uniformed military personnel, a lady in a white dress (a “Donut Dolly” or Red Cross volunteer from the war era), and, of course, the White Dog, who stands guard over the mourners and the fallen heroes.
I cherish this painting not only for its beauty, but for the powerful message that it conveys. Take a few moments to reflect on the sacrifice of those who answered the call to service, and thank a veteran today.
This painting of the Atlanta Botanical Garden was done en plein air at the change of seasons from late summer into early fall. It shows