Most people are vaguely familiar with the notification process the military uses to inform parents that either their son or daughter has been killed in action. This was characterized well in the movie WE WERE SOLDIERS. In the movie, cab drivers were shown delivering telegrams to the wives of the members of the 1^st Cavalry whose husbands had been KIA in the battle for landing zone X-Ray. Thus, when a confused cabbie knocked on the door to simply ask directions to a member’s correct address, the wife of a deployed husband answered the door assuming that she was getting notified that her husband had been KIA. In the movie, that cabbie deservedly got an earful. In the vignette that follows, something similar to this fictitious account in the movie happened to our neighbors Mr. and Mrs. Didinger.

During the summer of 1968, our neighbor’s son was serving a tour in Vietnam with the US Marine Corps. While Mrs. Didinger was doing the lunch dishes, out of her kitchen widow she observed a car pull up to the curb in front of the house. What caught her attention most though was that the car was a drab military green.

“What would a military car… be…doing… here?” she thought to herself.

Her eyes quickly scanned the vehicle and as they spotted the words, U.S. MARINE CORPS on the door panel.

It seamed all so surreal to her. But as her mind tried to make sense of the unfolding event, she received a shot of adrenaline that pulsated through her entire body. Then her heart sank.

She grabbed and leaned on the counter-top, fearing her knees would buckle as she was forced to face a parent’s worst nightmare: getting the news that their child had been killed in action.

Mrs. Didinger watched in what, to her, seemed like slow motion. As two Marines in their dress blues exited the vehicle, each Marine primped a bit before formally walking up the sidewalk in perfect lockstep. Mrs. Didinger could hardly believe the images her eyes were flooding her brain with. Had she really hit the ultimate “bad luck” lottery?

Mrs. Didinger’s eyes immediately began welling up as she attempted to hold back her tears. She thought that letting the tears out would mean accepting whatever bad news these Marines were bringing to her. Her denial mechanism kicked in full gear as she thought to herself, “My son can’t die; he just can’t.” She began to plead with God. Maybe he was only wounded? At least in that case she’d eventually see him again.

When the Marines rang the doorbell, Mrs. Didinger couldn’t stand it anymore. She yelled out for her husband to answer the door as she began trembling. Mr. Didinger answered the door, and was greeted by one of the Marines. “Good morning Sir, do you have a son serving in Vietnam with the United States Marine Corps?”

Mr. Didinger didn’t even ask why they wanted to know. He just knew. As hard as he tried to hold it back, a single tear cascaded down his cheek. It was now Mr. Didinger’s turn. His heart sank, and a lump now formed in his throat as he murmured a tortured, “Yes sir.”

Mrs. Didinger’s stood only a few feet away halfheartedly eves-dropping on the conversation. Curious but tortured. Did she really want to risk overhearing this conversation?

Upon hearing the question, and her husband’s answer, Mrs. Didinger could no longer attempt to hide in denial. The words had somehow transformed what she was thinking into a stark reality.

Mrs. Didinger’s felt her knees get weak as those two words confirmed the Marines were definitely there for something related to their son in Vietnam. She braced as she let whatever was happening register in her head. She took a final gasp of breath as she prepared to hear what was surely to follow. In such a short span of time, she had gone from feeling a sense of denial, straight into acceptance. And now she just wanted to end the torturous curiosity. She closed her eyes in anticipation, feeling that would somehow lessen the blow.

The Marine doing the talking went on, “Well sir, the Marines are collecting toys for Christmas redistribution to children in need. Sir, the Toys-for-Tots program has collected toys since 1947…”

Mrs. Didinger couldn’t recall what was said after that. That tidbit of information meant that her son was probably still alive! That was all she cared to hear. She was instantly elated to know that her boy was probably still alive, yet angry at what had just transpired!

As her cry changed from elation to anger, she stepped forward from her position behind her husband. Mrs. Didinger began to cry uncontrollably as she began to give the two Marines a piece of her mind!

“The Marines need to find a better way to collect toys, you jerks!”

The two Marines standing at the front door and their dress blues, each with a colorful fruit salad of ribbons adorning their chests, signified that they too were Vietnam veterans.

The whole incident suddenly made sense to them. After the Marines got clued in, they were polite and  profusely apologized; assuring Mrs. Didinger they were not there with any news about their son in Vietnam. The incident obviously affected the two Marines as they quickly returned to their vehicle and high-tailed it out of there.

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pete padilla petepadilla.com