Graveyard Battle
The shadow of a graveyard hung over Joe for fifty years; the Vietnamese graveyard where he almost died. The graveyard where more than half his unit did die.
As the consummate Marine, he had voluntarily left the relative safety of his assignment at Phu Bai to join the battle to regain control in Hue after the 1968 Tet offensive. When his convoy was surrounded by the North Vietnamese Army on the road through the graveyard, the nightmare of battle began. After taking out an enemy machine gun emplacement and engaging enemy troops at close range he was severely wounded in both legs by a grenade, but continued to fight until reinforcements arrived.
On the way to Hue our bus pulled to the side of the road as it passed through the ancient cemetery. Joe led our group as his gaze swung from one gravesite then another. “There was a sharp bend in the road,” he said. He swung his right arm in an arc, then settled on a spot facing downhill toward the road. “This is the place.”
T
he low grey overcast and quiet mist created a sanctuary for our mixed congregation. Joe offered up a prayer for those who died in the battle and healing for those who remained. With a vial of holy water brought from home he consecrated the site in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
