Thomas was the fourth of 13 children born to Ola Mae and Sam Sanders. He was the smartest of Ola Mae and Sam’s children. He was the most likeable. He was a skilled cartoon artist. He was a voracious reader. I read a whole lot and so did my sister Dixie. Some others read a lot as well. Thomas, however, read more than any of us. He was a gushing fountain of promise. That’s one reason I think about Thomas.
After Thomas graduated from high school, he entered Alabama A&M University. During his sophomore year, he left college to volunteer for the United States Marine Corps. He was soon in Vietnam. In a very short time, he became Corporal Thomas Sanders.
My mother prayed every day that Thomas would come back alive; that he would come back in one piece; that he would come back in his right mind. Her prayers were mighty and continuous. We also prayed. Thomas’ one year tour in Vietnam was up in April 1967 but his tour for was extended 30 days. The 30 day extension was coming to an end in days. It seemed that Mama’s powerful prayers were being answered. That’s another reason I think about Thomas on this day.
On May 10, 1967, Company C, Battalion Landing Team 1/3 was heading back toward their base so Thomas and others could return to the U.S. Along the way, they engaged the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese Army Troops in one more battle. Thomas was the Machine Gun Squad Leader. When the Viet Cong launched a surprise attack, he placed himself between the Viet Cong and his fellow soldiers and laid down a heavy volume of machine gun fire. As a result, nine of his fellow Marines in the platoon were able to secure safety and continued life. Thomas did not make it. He died in the jungles of Vietnam protecting his fellow Marines. The President of the United States awarded him the Navy Cross posthumously, one of the highest awards for “extraordinary heroism” a Marine can receive. That’s another reason I think about my brother Thomas on this day.
I also think about my mother. The military service forbade the opening of Thomas’ casket. They said the body was in too bad a shape and issued orders that the casket not be opened. This decision had unforeseen consequences. It fueled my mother’s belief that Thomas was not in the casket; that he was still alive; that he was a prisoner of war. She held on to that belief until the last prisoners of war came home in 1973. Mama finally released the last bit of hope that her beloved son was still alive. However, she was impacted for the rest of her life. That’s one reason I think about my mother on Veteran’s Day.
My most vivid image from Thomas’ funeral was the flag folding ceremony with the Marines presenting the folded flag to my mother. In my mind I said, “They took her son and gave her a flag.” Up until Thomas’s death, I was very conflicted. I was clearly against the Vietnam War. However, I was clearly for my brother and his fellow soldiers. I was determined that I would not serve in the Vietnam War.
The U.S. Military had tried to draft me several times. Each time I applied for and received a deferment based upon my being in college or law school. In 1968, during my second year at Harvard Law School, I received a notice from the draft board requiring me to report with no further deferments. I was a full grown man, about 26 years of age, but the first thing I did was to call my Mama. She said, “Son, you are not going anywhere. They have taken one son from me, and I'll be damned if they take another. Don’t do anything until you hear from me.”
My mother went up to the Baldwin County, Alabama Draft Board. Among other things, she told them the same thing she told me: “You have already taken one son from me, and I'll be damned if you are going to take another one.” My orders to appear before the Draft Board were cancelled. That’s another reason why I think of my mother on Veteran’s Day.
It’s been more than 47 years since my brother died. It’s been more than 47 years since my mother’s heart was broken by the tragic loss of her precious son. But on Veteran’s Day and Memorial Day, the 47 years seem like yesterday to me. That’s why I think about Thomas Sanders on Veteran’s Day. That’s why I think about Ola Mae Sanders on Veteran’s Day.
EPILOGUE – Certain days bring certain emotions and thoughts for certain people. Our personal history has a lot to do with these. I acknowledge the honor and joy Veterans Day brings for some. However, for me, it brings thoughts and feelings of hurt and loss.
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