THOUGHTS ON MOTHER'S DAY- AS IT HAPPENED - VIETNAM 1967

The time was late November 1967. The North Vietnamese New Year, Tet, was a month away. There were several incursions into our theater of operations, and our mission was to patrol Highway QL-1A running past Chu Lai to Hoi An.

Field observers reported significant activity along the Ho Chi Minh trail, indicating the North Vietnamese were planning a major assault. As a precursor to the Tet Offensive of 1968, the enemy instigated raids against major base camps located in the Central Highlands.  Despite all the evidence to the contrary, the Johnson administration and the U.S. military did not believe the enemy was capable of a significant attack. 

The Tet Offensive of 1968 cost more American lives than at any other period of war. It would come to define the war could not be won, but it did not stop the government from needlessly sending more troops into battle for another five years.  

The strategy of Ho Chi Minh was to divert American forces away from the coastal cities to concentrate in the central highlands and then attack these cities, including Saigon.  The U.S. military promptly complied, allowing the coastal cities vulnerable to attack.  The North Vietnamese Premier did not expect to win the war with a foe capable of bombing his country into cinders. Ho Chi Minh understood success was impossible on the battlefield against such a powerful adversary. He believed winning the hearts and minds of the American people would bring the conflict to an end; this is what eventually came to pass. 

It was cold and raining when we pulled the truck bearing the Quad-50 off the road to face west, where enemy activity became apparent.  It was midday and time to call in my report. I picked up the receiver and dialed our unit number. There was static and buzzing, and then a voice, as clear as a local telephone call, appeared. 

“International operator, please advise your designated phone number.”

Evidentially, a satellite was passing overhead, and it picked up our signal. My reaction was immediate. I instantly thought of my mother and relayed the digits. 

“One moment, please.”

More static and buzzing, and then, miraculously, I heard the unmistakable sound of a landline.  One ring. Two rings. Three rings and someone lifted the phone, “Hello-“ mom’s voice sounded over the receiver. In the next instant, the line disconnected. 

I had often thought of this moment in time when, against all the odds, a strange twist of fate offered this opportunity to hear my mother’s voice. I tried to reconnect, but the satellite was out of range, and the freak accident never happened again. I did not speak to my mother until I returned home after recovering from my injuries.

On Mother’s Day, I often think of mom’s ‘Hello’ as a gift, before the impossible missions and battles we were to face and our desperation to return home alive in one piece. I think of my dear, blessed mother, who sat at her kitchen table each day to offer up her prayers, who cried herself to sleep, thinking she would never see me alive. I think of my wife and the gift of family, and the life I lead, and when I wish her a Happy Mother’s Day, I see her standing next to mom, as they talked and laughed, the kids flitting in out of the kitchen and my PTSD not defining me.

I want to express my best wishes for Happy Mother’s Day to one and all, and especially to the wives, mothers, and grandmothers of all the servicemen past and present. As for me, more than anyone else, this day belongs to them.

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