"A Birth Certificate and a Death Certificate" — Tom Wood in a Tacoma Newspaper
[Article begins mid-paragraph — this is an excerpt.]
Nor did his mother and sister have any real idea of what he had been doing in the four months of his life in Vietnam. His letters seldom mentioned any fighting; they were cheerful, chatty notes about his buddies and the strange people and countryside and poked fun at Army chow. He asked for food packages to share with his friends. . . Two such packages, sent to him in early May, were returned to Tacoma unopened, along with the other things . . . along with 211 photos he had taken and 13 rolls of undeveloped film.
Tom had written to his mother: "I don't tell you about the bad stuff. It would just worry you."
So she never knew he had spent practically all his time in combat . . . not until the medals arrived after his death. First came the Air Medal and the Bronze Star — awarded for his participation in more than 25 aerial missions over hostile territory and for his role in continuous ground operations — and the Combat Infantryman's Badge and other commendations. And later came the Republic of Vietnam's Military Merit Medal, given posthumously for "courage and rare self-sacrifice."
There is little more to say about the life and times of Tom Wood, a sweet kid who dabbled in music and writing and photography. He came to our attention because his sister Kathleen did not think it was right that he had to enter and leave this world as only a statistic: "A birth certificate and a death certificate — that's all anybody knows of him."
And, yes, his mother is bitter. [excerpt ends]
