In Honor Of Those Who Have Served

I remember the night he had to leave. He was to take the bus from our little Northern New Jersey hometown to Ft. Dix where he would receive basic training. Mom, my sister Judy and I sat on the front steps and watched him leave for the bus stop. They were crying like I'd never seen before and I remember to this day the sick, hollow ache in the pit of my stomach at the goodbye. At that age, of course, I couldn't comprehend the possibility of never seeing him again; it was difficult enough to say such a big goodbye. We were a family who lived in close proximity, and before this, I'd never had the experience of missing someone because they were always right there.

We visited Ft. Dix to see Jim a couple times during his training. We packed a lunch to eat at the picnic grounds. We enjoyed a visit in picturesque surroundings until we had to cross the bridge to get to the restroom. The strongest smell of sewage hit me about half way across...a smell I will never forget!

While Jimmy was overseas, my parents found a map of Vietnam in the Sunday newspaper. Mom circled the town of Sa Dec, where he was stationed. That map hung on the basement door all the time he was away.

For Christmas when I was 8 years old, my sister Patricia tried to get me to read the poem "Twas the Night Before Christmas" into a tape recorder so we could send the tape to Jim in his Christmas goody box. I tried my best, but I remember Patricia being very impatient with my stage fright, so after numerous attempts and a lot of tears, the project was abandoned...at least by me. Hopefully she or one of my other sisters finished the recording.

I remember I saw coverage of the fighting on the news every day, but I never thought of that being any representation of what Jimmy was doing. I think those images were so ubiquitous that they ceased to have any meaning to me. I did, however, start watching Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. Even though Grandma explained that Jimmy was in the army and not the marines, I was convinced that it was like getting a glimpse of Jimmy's life in the service.

How excited Mom was to get one of those crinkly white air mail envelopes with the blue and red stripes around the edges! Each one was read privately, then she would share what information was pertinent to me. Over the years I remember seeing her address her own letters back to him on more of the crinkly paper and envelopes...first P.F.C. (Private First Class), then to SPEC 4 (Specialist Class 4). I remember being proud that he'd gotten a "promotion." I don't think he was involved in a lot of combat...I remember hearing that he worked in communications.

Speaking of the crinkly air mail paper, years later I remember Mom reading to me the letter she wrote to Jim as we were watching Apollo 11 land on the moon. She wrote how "poor little Gina can barely keep her eyes open," as our family was gathered in front of the TV to witness that momentous event.

Whenever I was fighting with my sisters while Jimmy was in the army, I remember telling them that he was on the top of my "favorites" list and they were at the bottom! I'll bet that really showed them!!!

The night Jimmy was supposed to come home, there was a huge family get-together planned at our house. I'd bathed and had my hair put up in curlers for the occasion. When my sister Peggy thought she heard him arrive and I still had the curlers in my hair, she pulled me into the bathroom, yanking out the curlers and throwing them all over the floor. It was a false alarm. I don't remember why, but for some reason, his flight was delayed and he didn't get home that day. The party was rescheduled for the next day. In the meantime, my sister Peggy had the nerve to demand that I pick up my curlers from the bathroom floor! I objected, as, in my opinion, it was not me who threw them, so it shouldn't be my job to pick them up. I still think I was right on that argument...What do you think?!

FINALLY, after so many years, Jimmy came home to us, safe and sound! Mom treated him as if he were royalty! Anything Jimmy wanted, he got...lamb chops every day for dinner...no problem! Her only son was returned to her unscathed, and there wasn't anything she wouldn't do or give to show her gratitude and relief! At the time I was terribly jealous, but I will admit to being wronger than wrong on that one. I can't even imagine how much heartache my parents and older siblings, who were all old enough to comprehend the consequences of having a soldier in the family, experienced. Not even once during that time was life as I knew it as an average little egocentric child compromised. It was business as usual so far as I could tell, although everyone's hearts must have been heavy with unimaginable worry every moment of every day.

Perhaps that is as valiant an effort as the soldier's.

Thank you to those who serve, and to those who await their return, from one who reaps the benefits of your sacrifice.