Ten years ago – March 17, 2003 – more than 50 American Gold Star “sons and daughters” who lost their fathers in the Vietnam War stood in the Singapore International Airport, watching on television as President Bush warned Saddam Hussein that failure to leave Baghdad would result in military action against his regime.

Within this Gold Star delegation were the now-grown children of men who served in every branch of the US military: enlisted, draftees and officers. Their fathers served in every era of the war; some were killed early in their tours of duty, others completed months and years of service, and some were still Missing in Action. Four of their fathers were posthumously awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor.

The group was returning from an emotionally draining two-week trek across Southeast Asia, to see the places their fathers fought and died nearly four decades earlier. These sons and daughters who had just struggled to confront the war that had taken their fathers and robbed them of childhood innocence would return home to face war again.

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In June 2000, during a Father’s Day ceremony at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, Sons and Daughters In Touch announced a first-ever historic trek to Vietnam. I was the first time such a large group of Gold Star family members traveled to see, taste and touch the country where 58,282 Americans were lost. Within a month of the announcement, two Veterans organizations – Vietnam Veterans of America and VietNow – pledged their moral and financial support for the historic and emotional journey.

On March 2, 2003, a team of 20 Vietnam combat veterans and nurses braved their own emotions to lead 50 Gold Star sons and daughters from Los Angeles to Vietnam.  It was fitting that their pre-trip press conference was held at the Bob Hope Hollywood USO as many of their fathers had enjoyed USO shows hosted by Hope and other Hollywood celebrities. A message of support from the aging Bob and Delores Hope was delivered by their personal representative.

The delegation – with the theme “In Honor, Peace and Understanding” – set out to honor their fathers, achieve a degree of inner peace, and gain a better understanding of what their fathers experienced in Vietnam. Upon touching down in Ho Chi Minh City, they broke into an unrehearsed, celebratory round of applause – a sentiment that in the in the 1960s and 70s would have been unfathomable.

As they acclimated to the culture, the group stayed at Saigon’s famed Rex Hotel and met with representatives of the U.S. Embassy.  They made day trips to the floating markets on the Mekong Delta, absorbed tours to historical sites, visited local restaurants and participated in random exchanges with locals.

They then broke into smaller teams for travel to the different corners of Vietnam where their fathers died in hamlets, jungles, rice paddies and atop craggy mountain sides.  Months of planning and research enabled them to collect soil, burn incense and lay flowers while standing in the exact spot where their fathers were lost – their personal ground zero.

When they weren’t engulfed in absorbing their own loss, the sons and daughters consoled each other as they had experienced similar losses and faced similar emotions.

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Last month, America marked the 40th anniversary of “Operation Homecoming” – the return of U.S. Prisoners of War from Hanoi and the Department of Defense recently launched an effort to commemorate the 50th Anniversary of the Vietnam War.  A total of 58,282 names are now inscribed on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial and a new Education Center is underway to tell the stories of each of them.

Vietnam is forever etched into America’s history and psyche.

Tracing a fathers’ footsteps enabled Vietnam to become a destination of remembrance, celebration and understanding rather than  the source of enduring nightmares.  When the time is right, perhaps this trip can serve as motivation and model for America’s new generation of Gold Star families – that they might trace the final footsteps of their loved ones.

Maybe our visit to Hanoi will be their visit to Baghdad, and our visit to Hue City theirs to Fallujah. Just as we crawled through the Cu Chi Tunnels, maybe they’ll walk the streets of Ramadi. Learning how U.S. Veterans are working with Project RENEW to rid Vietnam of thousands of unexploded ordinances may engender a humanitarian project to rid Iraq of unexploded IEDs.

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Ten years later, debating the reasons for our nation’s invasion in Iraq is as rending as considering rationale for America’s involvement in Vietnam.  Yet, discounting military families – especially Gold Star children – is a mistake never to repeat.  In our age of instant communication, it’s easy to locate, connect with, and meet the needs of families torn apart by war.

Seventy-plus years after WWII, sixty-plus after Korea, fifty past Vietnam and so many other conflicts, and now ten years after the start of the war in Iraq, Sons and Daughters In Touch continues to champion the needs of Gold Star families from all wars.  First Lady Michelle Obama and Dr. Jill Biden are focusing attention on America’s military and Gold Star Families, too, but there is more to be done.

The “Gold Star” designation  is un-chosen and unending.  It is a constant reminder of what was lost, and what might have been. Yet it preserves the memories of a fallen father or mother who wore our Nation’s uniform, and adds indelible words to the pages of American history. For Gold Star families, it can be a debilitating anchor or life”s springboard, inspiring them to move beyond the pain. Sons and Daughters in Touch hopes our journey will serve as inspiration to this latest generation of  Gold Star Children.

By Cammie Geoghegan Olson, 2011

 Long forgotten and recently found pictures of my parents- on their wedding day, honeymoon and early years of my childhood- combined with an interview I heard of a Navy Seal widow being asked “What will you tell your children about their father?” compelled me to explore when I first understood the meaning of love.

The beauty is there is no exact moment, but a collection of moments and mementos. Family stories shared, memories carefully tucked away in a trunk, old pictures and written words from a life long ago. Maybe this is my moment as I pull it all together, my mom being the common golden thread.

Barbara Ann Weathers and John Lance Geoghegan married on Friday, June 13, 1964. Friday the thirteenth. This left my superstitious paternal grandmother (Mimi) in fear for her only child and his new bride.  Was it an omen?  Mom wonders if Mimi spent the rest of her life believing it was.

Following their wedding, they traveled to Tanzania, Africa to spend nine months as missionaries for the Catholic Relief Service. I was conceived in Africa and born on June 1965. My father was in training to leave for Vietnam in August.  It was a blessing I was born early, allowing my father more time with me before he left.

Three months after reaching Vietnam and five days following his twenty-fourth birthday, my father was killed in action.

With heartfelt emotion and eloquence, Mom shared her story in a chapter of the book We Were Soldier’s Once and Young ^[1].  The following describes the moments after learning of my father’s death.

“I went upstairs to look at Cammie, sleeping peacefully, not knowing how her life was so altered. In a recent letter, Jack (my father) said: ‘How about giving Cammie a little brother when I get back?’ Now there would be no more little Geoghegans. I picked up my sleeping baby and hugged her hard, still not believing that an end had come to everything we had hoped and dreamed and planned.”

We both lived in our “little house” in Redding Connecticut; my mom named the house “Dar Es Salaam,” which is the name of the largest city in Tanzania and means “Haven of Peace.” My grandparents (Mimi and Gee Gee) lived further up the hill. Even in their sorrow, they were determined to raise me surrounded with love and laughter.  An excerpt from a letter Mom wrote to me when I was three years old describes my environment in those early years.

“How glad we were when you were born into this world my dearest Cammie! How glad I am that your father could be with us long enough to see you enter it safely and surrounded by love: his love, my love, our love as your parents.  How glad I am that he saw us safely nestled in a little home on a hill near his parents in Redding, Connecticut, where they and I have showered you with love, warmth, and security.”

Your father had to leave us one November day in 1965, but he did not leave without knowing that his dearest loved ones were safe and secure with each other. It is as if he had placed you entirely in my care, with the love, devotion, and guidance of his beloved parents very close by. And it is as if he had said, ‘I cannot be physically present, but I will be with you – in thought, in memory and in whatever way I can from my place with God.’ ”

The letter was placed at the beginning of a leather bound album (one of two) embossed with “To Dearest Cammie, By his deeds will you know him.” Along with the albums is a trunk including the flag that laid on his casket, metals, yearbooks- whatever Mom had which would help me bring my father back to life. I was never pushed to delve into these items, but I knew they were there and Mom would be there when it was time.

Many people in the same situation would bury their feelings, destroy anything reminding them of their loved one and not allow anyone, including their own children, to speak of the loss. My mother is extraordinarily different.

Several years later, Mom remarried and chose a man who loved me as much as he loved her. A unique man whom she met in Mimi and Gee Gee’s home.  A man who also believed in keeping the memory of my father alive. “We married Daddy” in April 1969. My new daddy has loved me and supported me in all my efforts to learn about my father. When I traveled to Vietnam to “walk in my father’s footsteps,” Dad was the first one I called to tell about my experience in Saigon (he had served there himself in the early ’60s).

Our family circle had grown and we moved away from Redding. We visited Mimi and Gee Gee frequently throughout their lives (they were a third set of grandparents to my brother and sister who came along in the early ’70s). Those visits are etched in my mind and some of my most cherished memories.

It wasn’t until I was a young adult, and closer to the age of my father when he died, that I started to yearn for details. Ironically, it was around this time Mom was asked to retell her story for We Were Solder’s Once and Young (The book written by and about those who fought in and were affected by the battle that took my father’s life). Ten years later, a movie was made and my original family portrayed. The producer, now a close friend, told us it was Mom’s piece that moved him to bring the book to the screen.

I had many resources to pull the pieces together, priceless gifts! Engulfed with tears, I dug into the trunk and read the book. I was overwhelmed with sorrow at the grief my loved ones must have felt, but grateful I was sheltered from it.  I was then struck by the reality that I will never know the humanness of my father- how he walked, how he talked. Nonetheless, Mom helped me create an image that brings me peace.

Last October, after thirty years, Mom and I traveled back to Redding. We knocked on the door to our “little house” and were warmly greeted by a kind gentleman. He listened to our stories and showed us around.  So much had changed: walls taken down, rooms added and rearranged, beautiful landscaping. However, the spirit of the house was the same. I looked where the kitchen was and remembered the picture of Mom bathing me in the sink. Oh, and the sun porch…I eyed the spot where my father had held me, images from old photographs running through my mind.

As we were leaving, this wonderful man promised to tend to the Geoghegan cemetery plot. Now there will be flowers from the garden at “the little house”, flags on Memorial Day and a dear soul to periodically stop by to “check on things.” Our former home must have an essence about it to attract special people to live within its walls.

At the cemetery, we found the familiar spot, the original family of three, together on a hill overlooking the beautiful country side. Mom said they chose the spot because they found peace in the idea of my father longing to return to his “little home on the hill.” Sunbeams radiated off the top of the Geoghegan headstone as I captured the moment in pictures. It was surreal.

Brushing aside fallen leaves from Mimi’s marker, Mom said, “I don’t know how I would have managed had it not been for you and your father’s parents.Years later they [Mimi and Gee Gee] said the same thing about me. I guess we kept each other going.  When one was weak, another was strong.”

We shared our favorite memories of Redding. A moment which could have been melancholy was just the opposite. Love and laughter surrounded us.  We had come full circle.

Love encircles my life to this day. I married the man of my dreams, have given birth to two beautiful healthy daughters and am blessed by a large extended family and dear friends.

Every so often, I find “another piece to the puzzle,” a picture of my parents in Africa by their homemade Christmas tree, the freckles we call “angel kisses” on my daughters’ cheeks reminiscent of the many freckles on my father’s face, an old soldier meeting me for the first time, saying those familiar words, “You look just like your Dad!”  Moments of awareness each embracing me with an overwhelming feeling of comfort. All this I owe to the strength, grace, unwavering devotion and love of my mom.

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By WYATT OLSON Stars and Stripes Published: May 19, 2012