My Son The Marine

Being a parent during wartime is horrible when you know your child is in imminent danger

Photo by Karsten Winegeart on Unsplash

My son, Drew, graduated from high school in 1987. He had long hair and wore an earring. When he came home and told me he was joining the Marines, I was surprised but not shocked. His girlfriend’s father was an ex-Marine, and Drew admired this man. Not having grown up with an actual male role model, I could understand the attraction.

We hadn’t had any wars since Vietnam, so I wasn’t too scared that there would be any conflict. I felt this would be an excellent opportunity for him to learn discipline and see the world.

He went to Parris Island, South Carolina, for boot camp. When I was finally able to visit him, I didn’t recognize him: no more hair and no more earring. Thank you, Marine Corps, for that.

When he graduated from the basics, he was selected as an Honorman for the ceremony. Only a select few receive this title, and he was one of them. He wore dress blues as other Marines in khaki uniforms saluted him.

My son is only 5'4". He is not scared of anyone, and he won’t be pushed around, so I can see why he made Honorman. He was also in top physical shape before joining the Marines, having played sports in high school.

I sat in a special area accompanied by a general and all the drill sergeants, whom I quickly befriended. I asked them if their tough exterior around recruits was for real. They confessed to me that it was all an act.

After basics, he went to many places. First, he learned his trade as a helicopter mechanic. Then, he went to Honduras, where there was unrest at the time, and to Alaska to help in cleaning up the oil spill from the Exxon Valdez. He went to Thailand, Japan, and the Philippines (he spent Christmas with a family there).

He was already set to go on a tour of Australia when they were diverted into the Persian Gulf after Iraq invaded Kuwait. He sat on a ship, the USS Okinawa, an amphibious assault Navy vessel.

At this point, Drew was assisting in the retrieval of the wounded via helicopter. He wasn’t actually in the fighting.

One day, I turned on the TV to watch the news at lunchtime. They broadcast that two helicopters collided, killing all aboard. The Marines were from my son’s ship.

I knew a woman who had contacts with the Marines, so I frantically called her. She found out that the Marines were from Camp Pendleton, not the base where my son was stationed, El Toro. I didn’t relax until I received a letter from him. In those days, that was the only communication I had with him.

The Marines were supposed to storm the beach, but it never took place. My son would have been in that, and I was grateful to Bush for bringing the war to a close by then.

Yesterday, I texted my son, “Happy Veteran’s Day, and thanks for serving,” just as I do every year. He is 56 years old now and almost at the end of his career as a helicopter mechanic — the trade the Marines gave him.

Thanks to Stephen Dalton for this prompt, which inspired me to write about my son.

November 11: Remembrance Day (Australia) Veterans Day (US) Write a summary of your service to your country or community. You don’t have to have served in the military. Maybe you were a nurse, doctor, fireman or woman, policewoman or man… (Stephen Dalton)

Thanks, Adrienne Beaumont, for compiling this great group of prompts

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