thedrifter
05-11-08, 07:22 AM
May 11, 2008
For military moms, a bittersweet Mother's Day
Nicole Neroulias
The Journal News
If America reinstated the draft, Patti-Jean Wollman and her husband, a Vietnam veteran, always thought they would send their sons to Canada.
The draft hasn't returned, but their youngest son didn't need one: Lance Cpl. James Wollman, 22, shipped off to Iraq in March, nearly three years after joining the Marines against their wishes.
"He left home on Mother's Day," Patti-Jean Wollman said last week, tearfully recalling how he had left their Mahopac family barbecue with his recruiter. "I begged and cried for six weeks, but the day he left, I was cried out, and I realized there was nothing else I could do but support him."
Mother's Day is a bittersweet occasion for women whose children are far from home, more so when those sons and daughters are in harm's way. For Wollman and other Lower Hudson Valley moms who had mixed feelings about the war in Iraq, and whose children joined the military after it became clear combat operations would continue indefinitely, emotions must be compartmentalized so they can focus on expressing unconditional maternal love for the troops.
Gloria Hannigan of New City grew up as a member of the Church of the Brethren in Pennsylvania, a faith with a staunch pacifist tradition. Now her son, Army Pfc. Nicholas Pata, 25, is stationed in Iraq and recently accepted a medal from Gen. David Petraeus for saving a fellow soldier's life.
"I didn't want him to join, no, I was against it. But he's a grown man and he wanted to do it," Hannigan said, hugging the photograph of her son shaking the general's hand. "But I'm happy now that he's done it. I'm happy that he's serving his country."
Laurie Johnson of Pound Ridge said she keeps her political opinions to herself when asked about her son, 2nd Lt. Taylor "Coop" Johnson, 23, who graduated from West Point last year and arrived in Iraq two weeks ago. She sticks to talking about how proud she is of him and the other soldiers she got to know during his college years, when "Coop" would bring fellow cadets home for weekends of home-cooked meals and free laundry.
"My husband and I raised our children to think independently, and we step back and let them think independently," she said. "He knew very well what the implications were, and I just say that I'm very proud of him."
Most soldiers and Marines are not allowed to give their families much information about where they're stationed or what they are doing, forcing them to imagine the worst. The moms agree they worry less when their sons manage to call or e-mail every few days, but on the other hand, if they get used to hearing from them regularly and then more than a week passes without any contact, they panic more than ever.
To alleviate their worries, they pray, or put together care packages - Wollman requests vitamin supplements, Pata appreciates salami, Johnson has started getting sports sections - or talk to other moms with similar experiences.
Hannigan and Debbie Tobin of West Nyack, whose 19-year-old son, Spc. Patrick Tobin, returned from Iraq a few months ago, attend weekly meetings at St. Augustine's Church in New City with other military parents. Their sons, who became friends a few years ago as volunteers in the Nanuet Fire Department, sent them matching silver bracelets last year engraved with their names and FDNY, reflecting their plans to join the New York City department after fulfilling their Army commitment.
James Wollman will probably become a police officer, like his brothers and father, his mother said. Johnson isn't sure about her son's long-term career plans, but suspects he will continue serving his country, perhaps in a diplomatic capacity.
When sharing their experiences with each other, the moms compare insensitive comments from people asking how they could have allowed their children join the military during a time of war - a decision the moms feel was ultimately out of their hands - or who dismiss their anxieties with cheerful statements.
"People used to say, 'Don't worry, it's just like them going off to college,' " Tobin said, rolling her eyes.
Hannigan, a school nurse in the Clarkstown district, said her medical background makes her more aware of all the ways Pata could be harmed, physically and mentally.
"Every day, from the morning until I close my eyes at night, I'm thinking about him all day long," she said. "You see a lot of things over there. I hope there's no post-traumatic stress syndrome. You don't know how somebody's going to be until they come home and you hear what they have to say."
It's going to be a tough Mother's Day, the moms agreed, but every day is difficult until their sons come home safely.
For Wollman, her constant consolation is that when her son does return, he won't get the kind of reception his father experienced after his tour in Vietnam. Already, she has noted, strangers stop her in parking lots when they see her military bumper stickers and leave supportive notes under her windshield wipers.
"The one thing we learned from the Vietnam War is to support the troops," Wollman said. "At least that's changed for Jaime."
Ellie
For military moms, a bittersweet Mother's Day
Nicole Neroulias
The Journal News
If America reinstated the draft, Patti-Jean Wollman and her husband, a Vietnam veteran, always thought they would send their sons to Canada.
The draft hasn't returned, but their youngest son didn't need one: Lance Cpl. James Wollman, 22, shipped off to Iraq in March, nearly three years after joining the Marines against their wishes.
"He left home on Mother's Day," Patti-Jean Wollman said last week, tearfully recalling how he had left their Mahopac family barbecue with his recruiter. "I begged and cried for six weeks, but the day he left, I was cried out, and I realized there was nothing else I could do but support him."
Mother's Day is a bittersweet occasion for women whose children are far from home, more so when those sons and daughters are in harm's way. For Wollman and other Lower Hudson Valley moms who had mixed feelings about the war in Iraq, and whose children joined the military after it became clear combat operations would continue indefinitely, emotions must be compartmentalized so they can focus on expressing unconditional maternal love for the troops.
Gloria Hannigan of New City grew up as a member of the Church of the Brethren in Pennsylvania, a faith with a staunch pacifist tradition. Now her son, Army Pfc. Nicholas Pata, 25, is stationed in Iraq and recently accepted a medal from Gen. David Petraeus for saving a fellow soldier's life.
"I didn't want him to join, no, I was against it. But he's a grown man and he wanted to do it," Hannigan said, hugging the photograph of her son shaking the general's hand. "But I'm happy now that he's done it. I'm happy that he's serving his country."
Laurie Johnson of Pound Ridge said she keeps her political opinions to herself when asked about her son, 2nd Lt. Taylor "Coop" Johnson, 23, who graduated from West Point last year and arrived in Iraq two weeks ago. She sticks to talking about how proud she is of him and the other soldiers she got to know during his college years, when "Coop" would bring fellow cadets home for weekends of home-cooked meals and free laundry.
"My husband and I raised our children to think independently, and we step back and let them think independently," she said. "He knew very well what the implications were, and I just say that I'm very proud of him."
Most soldiers and Marines are not allowed to give their families much information about where they're stationed or what they are doing, forcing them to imagine the worst. The moms agree they worry less when their sons manage to call or e-mail every few days, but on the other hand, if they get used to hearing from them regularly and then more than a week passes without any contact, they panic more than ever.
To alleviate their worries, they pray, or put together care packages - Wollman requests vitamin supplements, Pata appreciates salami, Johnson has started getting sports sections - or talk to other moms with similar experiences.
Hannigan and Debbie Tobin of West Nyack, whose 19-year-old son, Spc. Patrick Tobin, returned from Iraq a few months ago, attend weekly meetings at St. Augustine's Church in New City with other military parents. Their sons, who became friends a few years ago as volunteers in the Nanuet Fire Department, sent them matching silver bracelets last year engraved with their names and FDNY, reflecting their plans to join the New York City department after fulfilling their Army commitment.
James Wollman will probably become a police officer, like his brothers and father, his mother said. Johnson isn't sure about her son's long-term career plans, but suspects he will continue serving his country, perhaps in a diplomatic capacity.
When sharing their experiences with each other, the moms compare insensitive comments from people asking how they could have allowed their children join the military during a time of war - a decision the moms feel was ultimately out of their hands - or who dismiss their anxieties with cheerful statements.
"People used to say, 'Don't worry, it's just like them going off to college,' " Tobin said, rolling her eyes.
Hannigan, a school nurse in the Clarkstown district, said her medical background makes her more aware of all the ways Pata could be harmed, physically and mentally.
"Every day, from the morning until I close my eyes at night, I'm thinking about him all day long," she said. "You see a lot of things over there. I hope there's no post-traumatic stress syndrome. You don't know how somebody's going to be until they come home and you hear what they have to say."
It's going to be a tough Mother's Day, the moms agreed, but every day is difficult until their sons come home safely.
For Wollman, her constant consolation is that when her son does return, he won't get the kind of reception his father experienced after his tour in Vietnam. Already, she has noted, strangers stop her in parking lots when they see her military bumper stickers and leave supportive notes under her windshield wipers.
"The one thing we learned from the Vietnam War is to support the troops," Wollman said. "At least that's changed for Jaime."
Ellie