By April 1971 in Virginia, Frankie lived cautiously after war, hiding emotional volatility even from close friends. Letters with Vivienne McGrath cautiously reopened, sidestepping their family rupture. Public discourse on Vietnam—inflamed by My Lai revelations and growing heroin use—kept the war inescapable. Ethel Flint sank into small-town roots and veterinary school; Barb Johnson became an activist for VVAW and women’s rights; Frankie rebuilt her identity through hospital work, advancing toward trauma surgery.

One evening, after a long OR shift, Frankie met Barb at the bar where Barb worked. Barb asked Frankie to join an upcoming Vietnam Veterans Against the War action in Washington, invoking Finley McGrath, Jamie Callahan, and Rye Walsh. Despite fear and her habit of avoidance, Frankie agreed “just this once.”

They camped at Potomac Park amid a heavy police presence. At dawn, surrounded by thousands of mostly male veterans, Frankie and Barb joined the VVAW march across the Lincoln Memorial Bridge. Separated in the crush, Frankie was told by a male marcher that women hadn’t served; she shouted back that she was a veteran and continued. At Arlington National Cemetery, police blocked black-clad Gold Star Mothers from laying wreaths, enraging the crowd. Helicopters thudded overhead as chants of “Bring them home” escalated.

Days later they returned for a larger protest with multiple anti-war groups. At the Capitol, veterans hurled medals—Purple Hearts, Bronze Stars, dog tags—over barricades. Barb threw her first lieutenant’s bars. Police in riot gear charged; tear gas scattered protesters. Bruised and stinging, Frankie watched a lone officer collect the discarded medals and railed against it before a man warned her away.

That man, Henry Acevedo, introduced himself as a psychiatrist and anti-war protester. As they walked, Frankie questioned whether protests worked; Henry insisted they had to try. On the way to meet Barb at the Hay-Adams bar, Frankie bought a POW/MIA bracelet engraved MAJ ROBERT WELCH 1–16–1967 from student activists tied to the League of POW/MIA Families and took a flyer about a fundraiser.

Over drinks, Henry gently asked about Frankie’s losses and nightmares; she admitted being a Vietnam nurse but declined further connection when Barb arrived. After Henry left, Frankie, moved by what she had witnessed and the bracelet on her wrist, told Barb she was glad they marched and that they could do more.