To the girl who loved Phillip T. Regan Jr.:

I don’t know who you are, but the thought of you was the only source of consolation I could find when my cousin died in Vietnam.

My cousin, Phillip T. Regan, Jr., was the closest I ever came to having a big brother. Our families lived together for several years in a suburb of Washington, D.C. He was two years older than I was, a supurb athlete, a bongo player, golfer and a clown. He was killed in the spring of 1969, just weeks shy of coming home after a year as a “point man.”

A month or so before his death, a rumor swept through the family grapevine that Phillip wanted to bring home a girl from Vietnam. It was a relatively shocking idea at the time, but I wondered what you were like, how he met you and things like that. He was only 21 years old and had never had a serious girlfriend. I remember talking to our college chaplain about that, wondering if wartime romances could survive. I didn’t want to see Phillip’s heart broken by divorce, like it was when his mother left home.

Before I could write and find out more from him, Phillip was killed. I was so upset I couldn’t even travel home for the funeral. I knew Phillip was unhappy - his drinking got him kicked out of school, which got him drafted. I felt like he’d been cheated out of the chance to find happiness. That feeling of regret has never, ever left me.

The only comfort I could find was the thought that someone in Vietnam loved him. That he found happiness, comfort and nurturing before he died.

I’ve wondered what happened to you. Did you suffer after the war because of your relationship? Were you pregnant? Did you have a baby? What became of him/her? Do you still miss Flip? Did you know that there were people in his family who would have welcomed you and cared for you?

If I could find you, I’d thank you for loving someone I loved. I hope you have had a good life.

Sincerely,

Norah Madigan McMeeking