Gold Star Wife

Gold Star Service Banner.

I remember the time I first saw a Gold Star. It was hanging in a large picture window of an "old" house. Growing up in the Florida Panhandle, the "Cradle of Naval Aviation", I might have seen a "Star" previously but did not understand the significance of its meaning. However, it was this occasion in Southern California that left a life-long impression.

I was a young Marine on TAD (Temporary Additional Duty) orders to 29 Palms MCAGCC, CA. During a "96" (a 4-day weekend; 24 x 4), a few of us drove to San Diego. Late Saturday afternoon, we were looking for a place a few streets off the Beach and wound up in a residential area. While driving through, I saw a "middle-aged" woman walking back to her house from the mailbox. I then noticed something hanging in the window. It stopped me in my tracks. I bailed out of the car, quickly crossed the street while the other Marines "dismounted with military precision". They had no idea what was going on, but they had my "Six". I cautiously approached the woman, hoping not to alarm her. She looked good for "middle-aged". (To a young Marine, my idea of "old" and "middle-aged" was vastly different than what it is now.) She was wearing jeans, a pastel yellow collared button-down shirt, and what we now readily identify as "deck shoes". Her hair, long and beautiful. She noticed us and asked if she could help. I stammered something about being Marines and why we were in San Diego. She smiled. I then said, "That is the first one I've ever seen," as I pointed with a nod of my head towards her large window.

Vietnam Veterans War Memorial -- aka The Wall.

The guys saw it, instantly knowing why I stopped. Framed perfectly in the picture window hung a Gold Star Service Banner. 

I don't know about them, but the whole 'join the Corps and kill the bad guys' just got real for me. (Note: This was before the Beirut bombing and losing some guys we knew.) Suddenly, my heart was beating faster, and my breathing increased. Somehow, the saliva normally in my mouth had migrated to my eyes while undergoing metamorphosis, changing from saliva to tears. My mouth was dry, but my eyes more than made up for the lack of moisture. After a few moments of silence, she explained her husband "was a Navy Corpsman attached to Marines out of Pendleton". Marines love their HMs. (Note: The US Marine Corps does not staff Clergy or Medical personnel; instead, they rely on the US Navy. HM or Hospital Corpsman, are US Navy "medics" attached to Marine units.) Each Corpsman has the same name: Doc. Her "Doc" was killed in the early '70s fighting in Vietnam. After his death, she decided to remain in the house they purchased to raise their two young children.

We made small talk. She was extremely gracious and offered to fix us something to drink, "I have lemonade". There was a part of me that wanted to accept her offer, if for no other reason than to lubricate my mouth dehydrated from the adrenaline racing through my body. We managed awkward responses declining her sincere invitation.

At the last moment, as the guys turned to walk back to the car, I summoned my courage and told her I was thankful for her husband's service, honored to have met her, and offered my condolences for her loss. She closed the few feet between us, took me in her arms, and hugged me, while saying "Thank you". After a brief but emotionally charged embrace she dropped one arm, turned me towards the guys while still embracing me with her other arm, and told us something like, "I know you are Marines but you are not invincible. Take care of yourself and look after each other. You do not want your mommas or wives ever getting one of those" as she pointed with a nod of her head towards the Gold Star Service Banner.

The adrenaline dump was nearly over, and emotions were beginning to take control. Marines Do Not Cry—I guess we were the inspiration for Major League Baseball's saying, "There's no cryin' in BASEBALL!"—but I could not stop the emotion filling my entire being. At that moment, I did not want to think about any of this and regretted opening my mouth. All I had to do was just turn and walk to the car with the guys. As I listened to her words, I became more aware of her hair. It was brunette with natural auburn highlights, but what caught my attention was the fragrance. Her hair smelled like a prairie of wildflowers. Peaceful. Tranquil. Serene.

Suddenly, I felt better. I was not going to embarrass myself in front of other Marines, and especially this sweet woman. I told her I was glad I met her and would forever look at Gold Stars differently.

She was still standing in the driveway as we pulled away, waving goodbye. We ended up not going where we had originally planned. Somehow, the girls in a strip club just could not compare with the beautiful woman we had just met.

That night, as I lay in my cheap hotel double rack, I thought back over the moments I spent with her. I thought of her husband dying in the jungles of Southeast Asia. Did she stop him in his tracks the first time he saw her? How many times had he heard "I have lemonade"? Did he have a similar memory of seeing her standing in the driveway waving goodbye? Perhaps a toddler at her side while holding a baby? Did the fragrance of her hair bring a smile to his face as he lay in his rack at night thinking of her? I envisioned the last moments before his death; writhing in pain, the coppery, iron-rich, acrid aroma of blood mixed with gunpowder filling his nostrils while screaming out in pain. Then perhaps God, in His infinite mercy, blew the scent of a prairie of wildflowers onto the breeze. Lavender, Honeysuckle, Jasmine, Lilac—every sweet fragrant chasing away the acrid, stale scent of death. Wafting to and fro, dancing to the slowing rhythm of his beating heart. Peaceful. Tranquil. Serene.

Arlington National Cemetery, Memorial Day.

Often, I wish I had taken a photo of the meeting or simply asked her name. I quickly dismissed that because my feelings of both immense gratitude and remorse could not be more genuine had I known all her personal details. Strangely, this is how we should feel towards all Gold Star families. We do not need to know them to appreciate their sacrifices and losses.

I shall never forget the sacrifices and loss of this Gold Star Wife and all Gold Star families. For them, every day is Memorial Day.

To God, Country, and Corps I shall remain,

SEMPER FIDELIS

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."

John 15:13

Author's Note

The Service Banner tradition began in World War I as a means of honoring families that had loved ones serving during the war.  They were standardized and codified during World War II. A Blue Star Service Banner was given to the family of a Soldier, Sailor, or Marine serving at home or abroad. Additional Blue Stars were added to the same flag for multiple family members in service. Upon the heartbreaking news their loved one had paid the ultimate price, a Blue Star was removed and a Gold Star sewn in its stead. Each banner is limited to four stars, 

Blue and Gold Star Service Banners