There's a good description of the memorial in the Post:
"Although it is bounded by a wall on the west side, the angled edge of the park that fronts Washington Avenue has been left open, so that passing commuters can see the memorial. It also sits on a natural pedestrian path between the Capitol and the dense cluster of federal office buildings around Federal Center SW and L’Enfant Plaza.
The plaza and its fountain, bronze sculptures, inscribed glass panels and granite wall are meant to be constant, quiet reminders of the ongoing toll of war. The texts inscribed throughout the monument are striking in their emphasis not on the glory but the pity of war.
Many of those who visit will have impaired mobility, and the memorial is attentive to that in ways that might not be immediately obvious to the able-bodied. The star-shaped fountain and triangular reflecting pool are set low to the ground so that they can be easily surveyed by someone sitting in a wheelchair; there are a great number of benches, strategically placed in front of glass text panels and with unobtrusive metal bars to help people who need assistance sitting or standing up; and the curb cuts for wheelchair ramps have straight rather than flaring edges, which helps people with visual limitations...."
And the dedication remarks by the President are worth reading:
THE PRESIDENT: Thank you so much. Good afternoon. Please be
seated. To all our disabled veterans -- our extraordinary wounded
warriors -- we gather here today, on this gorgeous autumn day in
America, because each of you endured a moment that shaped the
arc of your lives and that speaks to our debt as a nation.
Maybe it was there on the battlefield, as the bullets and shrapnel
rained down around you. Maybe it was as you lay there, the medics
tending to your wounds. Perhaps it was days or months later, in that
hospital room, when you finally came to. Perhaps it was years later,
as you went about your day, or in the midnight hour, when the
memories came rushing back like a flood.
Wherever you were, whatever your story, it was the moment that
binds each of you forever -- that moment of realization that life would
not be the same. Your foot. Your hand. Your arm. Your leg --
maybe both. Your sight. Your peace of mind. A part of you was
gone.
Speaking to his fellow veterans of the Civil War, the great Oliver
Wendell Holmes, Jr. once said, “As I look into your eyes I feel…that a
great trial in your youth made you different…different from what we
could have been without it.” And he said, we learned “a lesson early
which has given a different feeling to life” -- a sense of duty that burns
like a fire in the heart.
To Lois Pope, Art Wilson and everyone at the memorial foundation
and our incredible veterans service organizations who devoted so
many years of effort, especially our friends at the Disabled American
Veterans; to all the architects and craftspeople who lent your talents
to bring this memorial to life; members of Congress, Secretaries Jewell and McDonald; distinguished guests; and most of all, to our
veterans who have come to know “a different feeling to life,” and to
your families -- it’s a great honor to be with you here today.
For more than two centuries, Americans have left everything they
have known and loved -- their families and their friends -- and
stepped forward to serve: to win our independence, to preserve our
Union, to defend our democracy, to keep safe this country that we
love. And when the guns fall silent, our veterans return home, ready
to play their part in the next chapter of our American story. As a
nation, we have not always fulfilled our obligations to those who
served in our name. This is a painful truth. And few have known this
better than our veterans wounded in war.
In the first years after our Revolution -- when our young nation still
resisted the idea of a standing army -- veterans of the Continental
Army returned to towns that could be indifferent to their service. One
veteran -- his hand mangled by a British musket ball -- was deemed,
like many veterans, as “unfit for labor.” And frustrated by his inability
to secure a disability pension, he wrote that “many of those who
aided in conquering the enemy are suffering under the most
distressing poverty.” After the Civil War, and again after the First
World War, our disabled veterans had to organize and march for the
benefits they had earned. Down the decades, our nation has worked
to do better -- to do right by these patriots. Because in the United
States of America, those who have fought for our freedom should
never be shunned and should never be forgotten.
So, today, we take another step forward. With this memorial we
commemorate, for the first time, the two battles our disabled veterans
have fought -- the battle over there, and the battle here at home --
your battle to recover, which at times can be even harder, and
certainly as longer. You walk these quiet grounds -- pause by the
pictures of these men and women, you look into their eyes, read their
words -- and we’re somehow able to join them on a journey that
speaks to the endurance of the American spirit. And to you, our
veterans and wounded warriors, we thank you for sharing your
journey with us.Here we feel your fears -- the shock of that first moment when you
realized something was different; the confusion about what would
come next; the frustrations and the worries -- as one veteran said --
“that maybe I wouldn’t be quite the same.”
And then here we see your resolve -- your refusal, in the face of
overwhelming odds, to give in to despair or to cynicism; your
decision, your choice, to overcome. Like the veteran who said, “It’s
possible for a man to lose half his physical being and still become
whole.”
It is here we can see your perseverance -- your unyielding faith that
tomorrow can be better; your relentless determination, often through
years of hard recovery and surgeries and rehab, learning the simple
things all over again -- how to button a shirt, or how to write your
name; in some cases, how to talk or how to walk; and how, when
you’ve stumbled, when you’ve fallen, you’ve picked yourself up,
you’ve carried on, you’ve never given up.
Here we get a glimpse of the wounds within -- the veteran who says,
“I relive the war every day.” Because no matter what war you served
in -- and whether they called it “shell shock” or “battle fatigue,” or the
“1,000-yard stare” or post-traumatic stress -- you know that the
unseen wounds of war are just as real as any other, and they can
hurt just as much, if not more.
Here we’re reminded that none of you have made this journey
alone. Beside each of you is a wife or a husband, mothers and
fathers, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, and neighbors and
friends -- who day after day, year after year, have been there, lifting
you up, pushing you further, rooting you on -- like the caregiver who
said, “I loved him for who he was in his heart. And he still had
that.” Today we salute all your families, and the love that never
quits.
And, finally, here we see that our wounded veterans are defined not
by what you can’t do, but by what you can do. Just ask Captain Dawn Halfaker. In Iraq, her Humvee was hit by an RPG. She
suffered burns and broken bones, lost her right arm. She struggled
physically and emotionally. But with the help of her fellow wounded
warriors she came to focus, she said, “not on what I had lost, but on
what I still had.” And today what she has is the respect of her fellow
veterans that she mentors; a business of her own -- one that hires
veterans; and a beautiful 6-month-old son. Dawn’s picture -- this
member of the 9/11 Generation -- now graces this memorial, and we
are honored that she is here today. And, Dawn, please stand
up. (Applause.)
I’ve seen Dawn’s story over and over and over again -- in all the
wounded warriors and veterans that I have the honor to meet, from
Walter Reed to Bethesda to Bagram. I know in Dawn’s life, many of
you see your own. Today, I want every American to see it. After
everything you endured, after all the loss, you summoned the best in
yourself and found your strength again. How many of you learned to
walk again and stand again and run again. How you’ve competed in
races and marathons and the Paralympics, on Team USA. How you
found joy and love -- getting married, raising children. How you found
new ways to serve -- returning to your units or starting new
businesses, or teaching our children, or serving your fellow veterans,
or leading in your communities.
America, if you want to know what real strength is, if you want to see
the character of our country -- a country that never quits -- look at
these men and women. And I’d ask all of our disabled veterans here
today -- if you can stand, please stand; if not, please raise your hand
so that our nation can pay tribute to your service.
We thank you. We’re inspired by you. And we honor
you. (Applause.)
From this day forward, Americans will come to this place and ponder
the immense sacrifice made on their behalf; the heavy burden borne
by a few so that we might live in freedom and peace. Of course, our
reflection is not enough. Our expressions of gratitude are not
enough.Here, in the heart of our nation’s capital, this memorial is a challenge
to all of us -- a reminder of “the obligations this country is
under.” And if we are to truly honor these veterans, we must heed
the voices that speak to us here. Let’s never rush into war --
because it is America’s sons and daughters who bear the scars of
war for the rest of their lives. (Applause.) Let us only send them into
harm’s way when it’s absolutely necessary. And if we do, let’s always
give them the strategy, the mission, and the support that they need to
get the job done. When the mission is over -- and as our war in
Afghanistan comes to a responsible end in two months -- let us stand
united as Americans and welcome our veterans home with the thanks
and respect they deserve. (Applause.)
And if they come home having left a part of themselves on the
battlefield, on our behalf, this memorial tells us what we must
do. When our wounded veterans set out on that long road of
recovery, we need to move heaven and earth to make sure they get
every single benefit, every single bit of care that they have earned,
that they deserve. (Applause.)
If they’re hurting and don’t know if they can go on, we need to say
loud and clear, as family and friends, as neighbors and coworkers, as
fellow citizens, and as a nation: You are not alone, it’s all right to ask
for help, and we’re here to help you be strong again. Because our
wounded warriors may have “a different feeling to life,” but when we
are truly there for them, when we give them every opportunity to
succeed and continue their enormous contributions to our country,
then our whole nation is stronger, all our lives are richer.
So if you’re an American, and you see a veteran -- maybe with a
prosthetic arm or leg, maybe burns on their face -- don’t ever look
away. Do not turn away. You go up and you reach out, and you
shake their hand, and you look them in the eye and you say those
words every veteran should hear all the time: “Welcome home, thank
you. We need you more than ever. You help us stay strong, you
help us stay free.” (Applause.)To every wounded warrior, to every disabled veteran -- thank
you. God bless you. God bless these United States of
America. (Applause.)
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