My Hero

Brady was only four when his father was drafted into the war. He had left the day right after our anniversary. I had given him a kiss and a wish for him to be safe. He walked out the door that night.

*******

The day was hot and muggy. A typical summer day in Virginia. We had gathered our small pool, filled it with water and was ready to take Brady for a tiny swim. Money was tight these days. The factory Bill worked at did not pay a lot and I could not find work that would make a difference. We made do with the small things in life. A small pool and a picnic consisting of some plastic cups and fruit salad. It was a day that was one I would never forget.

Brady was splashing water in my face when the mail came. I took him out of the pool, having water drip on my white dress. Brady sat down on the grass and I walked over to the mailbox. I dreaded getting the mail. It was just more bills. Opening up the front of the mail box I saw a letter addressed to bill. It looked important. He would be home in a few minutes and I would give it to him then. I waited outside with Brady for the old red truck that would be Bill arriving home.

The clunking noise signified Bill had arrived in our neighborhood. I waited by the pool for him to pull up into the gravel driveway. He stopped the truck and got out. A smile greeted me and Brady. I always did love that smile. We kissed briefly and I showed him the letter. He stared at the writing that said 'Official for Bill Kenton Only'. I waited in anticipation for him to open it. All I heard was a sigh.

"What's wrong honey?" I saw the look in his eyes and feared what the letter might mean.

"It means Sara, it means that I have been drafted darling." a cough was suppressed and I saw tears starting to form in his eyes. We both knew that the draft meant he was going to war.

It was our anniversary that night and our time was spent getting him ready to leave. The van to pick him up in the morning was arriving at three and we didn't have that much time together. He would be headed to Paris Island in South Carolina for boot camp. Tears were in both our eyes as we said 'Happy Anniversary' to each other. We had been married for five years. I took his hand and whispered that I loved him. He nodded in response. We both knew that this meant he may not come back to us.

I knew how Bill was. He believed it was his duty to serve in the war. He told me several times if he was drafted he would not run, but go and do his duty for his country. We had several arguments about whether he should leave. I agreed in the end and now the day was here he was going. First boot camp and then he would be transferred over to South Vietnam where Marines were needed the most.

The morning came too quickly for me. I heard his duffel bag hit along side the walls and I woke up in time to say goodbye.

"I love you." Tears flowed down my face and I could not control the sobbing. He put down his duffel bag and put his arms out to hold me. I easily fit into his large exterior and for a brief moment I forgot he was leaving.

"I love you to honey. I promise, this will be over soon and I will be hone. We will celebrate our anniversary the right way. Okay?" He let go of me and wiped a tear off my face. We kissed each other and I told him to be safe. Bill walked out the door and I fell to the floor, no one helping me to control my flood of tears.

***

Brady and I went about what we did everyday. The money would come once a month and we had to make it last for the whole month. It was hard. Brady was growing older and the food was not holding up for the entire month. I tried to find someone to watch Brady and went to find any kind of job at all. It was the seventies and I figured there had to be some kind of work a women my age could do. I had no experience with anything. Bill and I had talked a long time ago about me staying home with the children we would have. I agreed. I did end up finding a job at the sewing factory nearby that paid minimum wage, but at least it was something.

The letters came less and less from Bill. I knew the war from what was being said on the television was bad. I prayed that he was alright. I prayed the war would be over soon and Bill would come home to us. The walk to the store passed our local park and I saw many protesters with signs reading various things about the war. I am not sure I agreed with them or not. I just knew Bill was over there doing what he thought was right. Sometimes I would even stop and listen to what they were chanting, wondering if I should join them or yell at them.

Months had passed since Bill had left and my hands were sore from running the machines at the factory. I worked at least ten hours a day and barely saw Brady. He stayed with a friend of mine and her son. They were wonderful people, but I missed my son. I only hoped these days would be shorter and I would be with him soon.

Bill wrote one last time during that month. I was excited to hear what he was doing and that he was alight. The problem with this letter is even though I could not hear his voice, the words scared me. He talked about children who they ran into, but were not sure if they had to kill because they might be carrying something. The writing talked about how some of the children reminded him of Brady and how could he do any harm to someone that looked like Brady? I was heartbroken to hear of these things and wanted Bill home more than anything now.

My wish didn't come true. It was about five months since Bill had left and a knock on my door was my worst fear come true. There were two uniformed officers standing outside my door looking solemn. I opened the door and the first words I heard were: "Mrs. Kenton?"

"Yes?"

"I am sorry to inform you of this but..." I didn't let him finish before I broke down and cried. No matter what they said then it didn't matter. I knew what they were going to say. They handed me Bill's dog tags, said their regrets and left. The part came to me with a thud that I had to tell Brady his father was never coming home.

The night was long after I told Brady. He cried in my arms until he fell asleep. His father, my husband would not be coming home anytime soon. I later learned that he was going to get a Navy Cross. The Navy Cross they told me was for his valor in saving other wounded soldiers that were with him. He gave his life for his fellow Marines. They considered him a hero and so did I. I was never more proud of the man I married.

We now see him as often as we can. I tell Brady about his father and how much of a hero he was to us and to everyone. The wall that lists the names of all the brave men and women who gave up their life, now holds my husband's. Each and everyday we tell him we love him and that he is 'Our Hero'. His voice like several others are now heard.