thedrifter
04-30-06, 08:38 AM
Posted on Sun, Apr. 30, 2006
At 83, mother to see son's name on Wall
By CHRIS VAUGHN
STAR-TELEGRAM STAFF WRITER
FORT WORTH -- Linda Lorenz received a phone call in late February from a friend, telling her that her son would indeed be on the Wall.
"I just broke down," she said.
In a few weeks, Linda Lorenz will be flying to Washington, accompanied by a friend who can help her get around for the Vietnam Veterans Memorial ceremony.
She is 83 years old, and while she looks 10 years younger, she is increasingly frail.
For 40 years, the Lorenz family has been just her. Her husband died close to 50 years ago, and she never remarried. Together, they had only Hans.
So when she is gone, so too is her family.
"He was an only child. I was an only child. His father was an only child," she said. "Some families just end. That's it."
War courses through the Lorenz family.
His father fought for the Germans in World War II, and his grandfather in World War I. Military service goes back four generations.
"The military was his ideal," she said of Hans. "I guess he inherited it."
Born Aug. 21, 1944, in Neuenburg, Germany, Hans and his mother immigrated to Ontario, Canada, in 1957.
"I thought I would get Hans away from all the troubles in Europe," she said.
He fit a German stereotype: 6 foot 3, square jaw, blond hair, blue eyes, athletic build. He loved ships and joined the Canadian Navy after high school, but he really wanted to be in the U.S. Marines.
His mother argued with him, pleaded with him, not to join. She saw the war brewing in Southeast Asia and had had enough of war in her family. But he wouldn't be talked out of it.
He enlisted in 1965.
"It was a paralyzing time for me," she said.
Hans landed in Vietnam on Jan. 31, 1966, a member of the 1st Battalion, 3rd Marines, based near Da Nang.
Just two and a half months later, at 7 p.m. on April 11, Hans was disposing of contaminated gasoline when it blew up. He was evacuated 45 minutes later, according to his unit's log book for that day.
At her house in Midland, Ontario, his mother knew something bad had happened. No one had to call her.
"A mother's intuition," she said. "That's nothing special with me. A million other mothers have it."
She received a telegram two days later at work. That night, she took a phone call from Hans, who called from a field hospital.
"Mom, it's a small injury," he told her. "Don't worry about it. I'll be OK."
But Linda Lorenz knew he was lying. On April 15, she and Hans' girlfriend flew to Oakland, Calif., to meet him.
She spent 11 days with him before he died, but she won't relive them now.
"He didn't speak much," she said. "Sometimes he spoke German. They did everything so he wouldn't feel pain."
The living room grows quiet. "I think that's enough of that."
Chris Vaughn, (817) 390-7547 cvaughn@star-telegram.com
Ellie
At 83, mother to see son's name on Wall
By CHRIS VAUGHN
STAR-TELEGRAM STAFF WRITER
FORT WORTH -- Linda Lorenz received a phone call in late February from a friend, telling her that her son would indeed be on the Wall.
"I just broke down," she said.
In a few weeks, Linda Lorenz will be flying to Washington, accompanied by a friend who can help her get around for the Vietnam Veterans Memorial ceremony.
She is 83 years old, and while she looks 10 years younger, she is increasingly frail.
For 40 years, the Lorenz family has been just her. Her husband died close to 50 years ago, and she never remarried. Together, they had only Hans.
So when she is gone, so too is her family.
"He was an only child. I was an only child. His father was an only child," she said. "Some families just end. That's it."
War courses through the Lorenz family.
His father fought for the Germans in World War II, and his grandfather in World War I. Military service goes back four generations.
"The military was his ideal," she said of Hans. "I guess he inherited it."
Born Aug. 21, 1944, in Neuenburg, Germany, Hans and his mother immigrated to Ontario, Canada, in 1957.
"I thought I would get Hans away from all the troubles in Europe," she said.
He fit a German stereotype: 6 foot 3, square jaw, blond hair, blue eyes, athletic build. He loved ships and joined the Canadian Navy after high school, but he really wanted to be in the U.S. Marines.
His mother argued with him, pleaded with him, not to join. She saw the war brewing in Southeast Asia and had had enough of war in her family. But he wouldn't be talked out of it.
He enlisted in 1965.
"It was a paralyzing time for me," she said.
Hans landed in Vietnam on Jan. 31, 1966, a member of the 1st Battalion, 3rd Marines, based near Da Nang.
Just two and a half months later, at 7 p.m. on April 11, Hans was disposing of contaminated gasoline when it blew up. He was evacuated 45 minutes later, according to his unit's log book for that day.
At her house in Midland, Ontario, his mother knew something bad had happened. No one had to call her.
"A mother's intuition," she said. "That's nothing special with me. A million other mothers have it."
She received a telegram two days later at work. That night, she took a phone call from Hans, who called from a field hospital.
"Mom, it's a small injury," he told her. "Don't worry about it. I'll be OK."
But Linda Lorenz knew he was lying. On April 15, she and Hans' girlfriend flew to Oakland, Calif., to meet him.
She spent 11 days with him before he died, but she won't relive them now.
"He didn't speak much," she said. "Sometimes he spoke German. They did everything so he wouldn't feel pain."
The living room grows quiet. "I think that's enough of that."
Chris Vaughn, (817) 390-7547 cvaughn@star-telegram.com
Ellie