The Escort Three dark days in April, 1968 Ive never forgotten, some 46 years later now. I dare not forget, not ever. He was my soldier and fallen brother, though I would see only a photo while aware of much of his history. I would meet his whole family, feeling the most grief from his wife and father. Its appropriate to remember once more.......on this Memorial Day. His name is etched forever in my heart, and on the National Viet Nam Memorial, that endless and very dark marble wall. Count them.....58,000 plus warriors. To reveal his name is not critical to the story, nor to convey my very personal experience, those three extremely difficult days of mid April, 1968. I cant think of any other man able to display the level of sensitivity required for such an assignment Thats what he said to me! It wasnt an order, it was a request. Sgt Yaussy, I want you to do it .....for me! Oh my.....a fallen soldier! He wanted me as an Escort, to accompany the body home to the family. Me, you want me, Sir? Yes, Ive been watching you for quite some time, youre the man. He briefly went over some of the details, what was required of me. I thought of the problems, probable difficult areas. There were already demonstrations against Viet Nam....how would the family treat me? There were so many questions, and, as I understood, only the actual experience could answer them. Oh, Good Lord....have mercy! I would reluctantly agree, frankly, with great trepidation! It was the Majors sincerity, his hand on my shoulder, the way he looked me square in the eye, even pleading. This man truly wanted me to do the unthinkable. Someones son would be coming home, and I would be there to honor him, his sacrifice, his memory, ....with all reverence. Oh my! Within just a few hours, I was transported to Pittsburgh International, a quick flight to Dover Delaware, the Air Force Base where all casualties arrived. Two Air Force Captains would guide me into a huge hanger where I witnessed hundreds of silver cased, flag draped caskets. I wept, oh, how I cried! I walked around just a bit, reading some of the names, until I just couldnt take it anymore. They introduced me to Him, providing a brief history. I knew his name, I knew how he was killed, I knew where he lived.....and I also knew he had a young wife, no children. He was only 20 years old. I would have been 24 at that time. The casket was loaded onto an Air Force Plane.....from that point on, my soldier was not to leave my sight. I was given a special place to sit, everyone so kind to me.....at the same time solemn, very respectful. Back to Pittsburgh now, the funeral director, with the accompanying hearse, met the flight right out there on the tarmac. A second vehicle, another man emerged.....it was HIS Father. The transfer complete, I road in the car with dad following the hearse. Holding my breath....I quietly spoke....Mister Long, Im so sorry. Thank you for doing this, he replied. Silence! About a 20-25 minute drive, we arrived, obviously, the funeral home. I stood by as the director spoke with the father after they had viewed the remains. There was no way I wanted to do that, thankfully, I wasnt encouraged and stood from a safe distance. The decision would be a closed casket. It was late, this fallen one now safely in the hands of his father........he shook my hand, thanked me again. I was free to go home. A military vehicle was already there, my ride back to Oakdale. The hardest part yet to come, and I was already shaken. I stood at the head, not at attention, but not at ease, either. Much closer to parade rest. I was so very apprehensive as friends and family started to file in. It looked like an 11 x 14 photo on a stand at the foot, a nice looking fellow he was. All evening long I struggled with the tears, doing reasonably well until his wife walked forward. I understood, it took her a long time to gather the courage to say her goodbye. She saw me weeping, and though her own tears, walked over and hugged me. I instinctively hugged her back, then an instantaneous thought, was that even appropriate? Too late! She remained there, her head on my chest, sobbing. I lost it, completely falling apart. So easily, I felt it all, understanding the grief, somehow, my thoughts drifting toward my own wife and home. The second night was easier, though never easy. There were more folks who would speak to me, all so kind. His wife would also thank me for providing a shoulder. So much grief....I felt her agony, her loss. Surprised, they invited me into their home. I sat quietly in a corner, speaking only when approached. Mom insisted I eat something, brought me a plate. I tried, and was hungrier than I had realized. I thought somehow, revealing my emotions was a no, no...maybe I should have tried harder to remain disengaged. Well, I certainly wasnt the right man then. Maybe a tin man could have succeeded. I did have a heart, after all. At the cemetery, the pall-bearers, the firing squad, a 21 gun salute.....taps echoing from the hillside, wailing, and still more pain. I stood there, at attention, as they folded the flag, then presented it to me. I walked sharply, (military fashion) toward His Wife.....shes sitting, front row. I bow slowly before her to say what is given to say. I looked into her eyes, On behalf of a grateful......nation, thats as far as I got. I lost it......again. (sigh) She left her seat, jumped up, hugged me tight......kissed my cheek......sobbing. Oh thank you, thank you! How wonderful you are. I would deny that I was so wonderful. My heart was breaking, the best I could do was to rest my head on her brow. The possibility that I could have been the casualty, and this grieving wife was my own. Her loss, might have been Kays loss, and I just couldnt bear the thought. Everything I did, or didnt do, somehow centered on those images tormenting my mind. Four people had called Major McKreathern, at least thats what he said. See, I told you so, I chose the right man. I said, Please sir, it was so hard, would you not ever ask me again? He never promised, but I was never asked. If given the option, had it come up, I would not want to go through that ever again. A few days later, two pieces of mail. Beautiful cards, one from the father, the other from his daughter-in-law, words of gratitude, touched me deeply. I still have those cards, 46 years later now. I would dig them out one more time while preparing this. Those scenes still so real, all of it came rushing back, I wept like a child....again, an emotional basket case. She was only 19, they had married just prior to his departure, only 6 months they had together. Her name was Christie, so tiny, stood about chest level. Im almost certain she would have found love again, reserving a corner of her heart for him forever. I never knew. Further contact was always discouraged, though I was tempted. In hindsight, I should have taken Kay with me, her heart so huge....might have offered some comfort to this precious, heart broken little lady. Major McKreathern wrote a nice review, recommended me for the Army Commendation Metal. He pinned it on me himself. I actually came to love the man, so kind to me he was. He was the one to recommended me for recruiting duty, writing his evaluation after I had been turned down......twice! The third time....the charm! I was approved. He also had the greater hand in my promotion to Staff Sergeant (E-6) Now I knew he really did like me, a lot. :o) Thats yet another story. bob yaussy, one old soldier....of so many.....
Posted on: Mon, 26 May 2014 04:29:32 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015