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VETERANS OF WAR, VETERANS OF PEACE
VETERANS OF WAR, VETERANS OF PEACE
Shattered Dream
by Pauline Laurent


It's a beautiful Sunday afternoon-Mother's Day, 1968. Spring in the Midwest is sprouting with life and possibility. The peonies are shooting stalks through the rich, black soil in the flowerbeds. After morning mass at St. Joseph's, I am sitting in the shade of the big sycamore in Mom's backyard. My husband, Howard, has been in Vietnam since March. He thought it would be best for me to stay with my parents while he was gone. Princess, our black German shepherd, is my constant companion. She lies at my feet as I glance through the Sunday paper. I notice wedding announcements, sales, ads, and upcoming movies.

Nestled in the back pages of a remote section of the paper, I spot an article about a battle in Vietnam. I avoid reading about the war, but this article found me. The action described in the article involved Howard's unit-3rd Battalion, 39th Regiment, 9th Infantry Division. 257
War Refugees Are Flooding into Saigon
. . . The Command Post is in a Buddhist pagoda, 20 yards from a tiny Catholic church which serves as the medical aid station. "They hit us hard all last night with mortars and rockets," said Maj. Boone. "Two soldiers from Alpha Company held out during a three-hour attack on a little bridge across a feeder canal. I don't even know their names but they are up for the Silver Star. We've been lucky so far-only four killed and fourteen wounded in the battalion."
Howard is dead. I know it. I don't know how I know, I just know. I can't breathe. Tears are coming. I'm trembling inside and out. Mom comes out into the yard and asks, "What's wrong?" I show her the article and whisper, "Howard is dead."

Three Days Later-May 15, 1968

The potatoes fry in their usual pool of lard, lard rendered from the hogs my uncles and brothers slaughter every January. Mom stands over the stove, stirring the potatoes and turning the blood sausage frying in an adjacent skillet.

Princess greets me after I return from my job at Scott Air Force Base. My father sits in his favorite chair, watching the evening news and waiting for dinner to be served.

Something draws me to the front windows. An ugly green sedan with the words "U.S. Army" printed on the side is parked in front of the house. Two men in uniform sit inside the car, looking down at paperwork on their laps.

The room starts spinning, my hearing becomes muffled, reality is slipping away from me. Princess barks as Mom walks to the front window to see what's causing the commotion. They're coming to tell me he is dead.

"Please, God, let him be wounded, not dead," I say.

The men continue to sit in the car. Hours seem to pass before they get out, straighten their uniforms, and head toward my door. I put Princess in the basement-she doesn't welcome strangers. I come back to open the door and see the two men standing before me with the same terror in their eyes that I'm feeling inside of me.

"Good evening," they say, as they remove their hats. "We're looking for Pauline Querry."

"That's me."

They look at my protruding abdomen that holds my unborn child and then look at each other in silence that lingers too long.

"Was he wounded or killed? How bad is it?"

More silence. Finally they begin.

"We regret to inform you that your husband, Sergeant Howard E. Querry, was fatally wounded on the afternoon of May 10 by a penetrating missile wound to his right shoulder."

I'm dizzy. I can't think straight.

"Dead? Is he dead?"

They don't answer. They just reread their script as if practicing their lines for a performance they'll give someday.

"We regret to inform you . . ."

The room is spinning. I can't think, I can't hear anything. I'm going to faint. Alone . . . I must be alone to sort this out. Leave me alone.

Instead, I sit politely as they inform me of the details . . . funeral . . . remains . . . escort . . . military cemetery . . . medals.

Finally they gather their papers and leave. I politely show them to the door. My parents are hysterical. My dad weeps, my mom trembles. No sound is coming out-her whole body is shaking in upheaval.

After retrieving the dog, I stagger to my room and shut the door. I throw myself on the bed, gasping for air. My heart races and pounds. My unborn baby starts kicking and squirming. I hold my dog with one hand, my baby with the other, and I sob. I'm shattered, blown to pieces. It can't be true!

No medics come, no helicopters fly me away to an emergency room. I struggle to save myself but I cannot. I die.

Half an hour later, a ghost of my former self gets up off the bed and begins planning Howard's funeral.

Mom calls relatives. People come over to console me. I just want to be alone. I just want to be alone.

< Previous: Poem for Tęt  > More: The Body Escort

Reprinted from VETERANS OF WAR, VETERANS OF PEACE, © 2006. Reprinted with permission of Koa Books.

Originally published in Pauline Laurent's memoir, GRIEF DENIED: A VIETNAM WIDOW'S STORY. www.griefdenied.com

References and Reading:
VETERANS OF WAR, VETERANS OF PEACE
For nearly fifteen years under Maxine Hong Kingston's guidance, members of the Veterans Writing Group have told, written, and rewritten their stories. Many of the works have been collected in VETERANS OF WAR, VETERANS OF PEACE. Read excerpts from the book online.

THE AMERICAN NOVEL: Maxine Hong Kingston
Profile of Maxine Hong Kingston from PBS' 2007 series THE AMERICAN NOVEL. The Web site contains an extensive interactive timeline of works from 1826 to today.

Related Media:
WATCH Maxine Hong Kingston from WORLD OF IDEAS: Watch Bill Moyers' 1990 interview with Maxine Hong Kingston from the WORLD OF IDEAS series. Kingston and Moyers discuss Kingston's works THE WOMAN WARRIOR, CHINA MEN and TRIPMASTER MONKEY as well as her work with veterans.

BECOMING AMERICAN
In 2003, on NOW with Bill Moyers, Bill Moyers spoke with poet Susan Sontag about her experiences with war.

Published May 25, 2007

Also This Week:

MAXINE HONG KINGSTON
Bill Moyers sits down with Chinese-American author Maxine Hong Kingston to discuss poetry, war and the transformative power of stories.

VETERANS OF WAR, VETERANS OF PEACE
Read excerpts of writings collected from Maxine Hong Kingston's workshops with veterans and their families.

VETERANS RESOURCES
Learn about how to contribute to a national veterans archive project, view information about veterans' benefits, rights and programs in your area, and visit veteran-related program pages from other PBS shows.

D-DAY REVISITED
D-Day Vets. This special edition of Bill Moyers Journal features D-Day veterans in the poignant “D-Day Revisited,” which explores the sometimes painful memories of their wartime experiences.

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