|Every Year About This Time|
Perhaps the year 1969, is the longest one I shall ever
remember. It was during this period while the war was at its height, that our
son [Gary], fresh out of college, was sent to Vietnam as an artillery gunner.
My husband and I endured the long months by searching the newspaper for bits of information about the war. We purchased a map to be able to locate the exact spot his unit was stationed [Quan Loi]. We stayed constantly busy, comforted each other as much as we could and prayed while the war raged on.
We had been told should our son be killed or badly injured that we would be personally informed by a Chaplin along with an Enlisted man of the same rank as our son. The picture of those two standing at my front door was constantly with me. But it was this scanty bit of information that saved me from destruction for I reasoned that they would not come after ten o’clock at night or before six in the morning; thus I was able to sleep.
However, one Fall evening, I knew real fear as the door bell rang while we were eating dinner. Completely shaken, I opened the door to see a very small person dressed all in green; she was all business-like as she explained why she was there. Her large brown eyes got even larger while her beanie hat fell to the ground as I threw my arms around her. In a voice husky with tears, I said, “Of course, darling, I’ll take six boxes of Girl Scout Cookies.
Nona E. Graham