Larry and Margaret were one of the few lucky couples of the Vietnam War to return to each other’s arms earlier than expected, but tragedy found a way back to them in the form of Margaret’s untimely death
Margaret and Larry, middle, 1/31/70. Source: Larry Tritle
Kiss me goodbye and write me while I’m gone,
Goodbye my sweetheart, Hello Vietnam.
By William Simqu
Larry signed up for duty, Margaret signed up to wait. Larry would lash out, Margaret would pick up the pieces. Larry couldn’t take it anymore, Margaret brought him home.
Lt. Lawrence Tritle, like many young American men in the 1950s, was intoxicated by the concept of serving: Kennedy’s voice rang in his ears. The son of a World War II Veteran and police officer, the choice seemed obvious to him–serve my country in whatever way possible. In 1969 after graduating college, he enlisted in the army and arrived in Saigon in May of 1970.
Margaret Burlington was a teacher in Tampa, Florida–she too was fond of the American illusion. In February of 1970, she met Larry, a recent “graduate” of boot camp at Ft. Briggs in a bar. It was love at first sight and, in common soldier fashion, they were married within the week. However, Larry still had his duty. After he said goodbye and was shipped off, Margaret promised to write him everyday.
May 21st, 1970: Oh and lastly, your Mom told me she couldn’t think of anyone else she would rather have you marry and spend the rest of your life with (and since, neither can I, everything really did turn out alright).
Margaret held this belief, the destiny of a brighter future–one beyond Vietnam. Larry on the other hand, was not so sure.
“I didn’t want to be in Nam a day longer than I had to be,” said Larry.
He didn’t know how to express what he saw on a daily basis–and furthermore he did not want Margaret to know the truth for fear of her worrying more.
“I never told her of air operations where we were almost hit,” said Larry. “It would only make her more upset.”
Larry, cursed by the nature of the war and manhood, bottled his emotions. The common Vietnam paradox held true: “It didn’t mean nothing.”
Early out?
Larry found out about the “early out” program very quickly into his tour. Said program was established in 1970 and offered soldiers who wanted to pursue education a two month early end to their tour. Maragret was determined to do everything in her power to help him in this endeavor. Larry decided to apply to a graduate degree in classics at the University of South Florida (USF) to be near Margaret.
July 31st, 1970: I don’t think you should have any trouble getting in…taking a chance is fine with me honey…I hope you have all kinds of spare time to do nothing but read.
First challenge, Larry had to score well on GRE and to do this, he had to make his way to the Army Corps Headquarters in Kan Tho, South Vietnam. Given Larry was stationed in the Mekong Delta over a hundred miles away, this would be no easy feat. Though they established the “early-out” program, the powers that be weren’t too keen on soldiers leaving their post in the thick of Viet Cong nightly raids. Fortunately for Larry, he met a pilot who flew an observation plane. Out of the pilot’s good graces, he agreed to fly Larry to Kan Tho. Larry found a bunk in the air base and was set to take the GRE the next day.
Exhausted from the previous missions, heat-stricken from the sun and the tarmac, distracted by the constant roar of Apache helicopters, and unprepared given that his last formal education experience was over three years prior—it could be said that Larry’s test taking circumstances weren’t exactly ideal. Somehow, Larry prevailed.
“Barely,” he said.
Larry’s application went through and for the first time, “home” and Margaret were in reach. Larry did not want to get his hopes up, and right he was.
“We need Lt. Tritle on the ground here,” said the major who had to approve all soldiers applying to the early out program.
A mistake
Months earlier, the same major who was to deny Larry was based in the provincial capital of the Mekong Delta. One day, there was a Viet Cong mortar attack. This major was driving and took injured civilians to the hospital then put in for a decoration medal. A short time after, Larry had come in from the field and made a comment to the officer.
“There he is,” said Larry. “Captain Star Star upon my shield, keep me from the battlefield.”
Looking down upon people in administrative positions was common in Vietnam: rear echelon mother-fuckers, the grunts called them. However, this little quip cost Larry two months and in a place where days felt like weeks, two months was a lifetime.
August 1st, 1970: I’m not doing much more than merely existing until time passes and you’re home with me.
Margaret, like many waiting wives, was eager for purpose. She took it upon herself to get their two months back.
Margaret’s Turn
Margaret met with James Silver, a professor of Southern American history, pleading for him to write a letter in an attempt to override the denied request. Silver agreed to help Margaret and therefore, Larry, but Margaret questioned the motives of Silver. A local womanizer, Margaret would discuss the even with Larry later in life.
“I think he helped…” Margaret said. “Because he liked my legs.”
Silver wrote a letter addressed to the Saigon ranking offer of the MacV outlining the study Larry was to participate in. Larry then showed this letter to headquarters and once again applied for the “early-out.” It was granted and after working its way up the chain of command, Larry knew within three weeks of Silver’s letter that he was to be sent home on March 26th instead of May 11th.
“In a place where there are many ways to die,” said Larry. “This was all together good.”
Margaret was similarly overjoyed.
March 12th, 1971: …its as if everything is really starting to fall into place for us. How beautiful, darling, but just some more things are working for us–but best of all, the good feeling comes from knowing that in just a matter of days, you’ll be home with me again.
Within ten days from leaving Vietnam, Larry started classes at USF.
Saying Goodbye
Margaret brought Larry home, but like most Vietnam veterans, all he wanted to do was forget.
“Tendency was to not say anything,” said Larry. “The whole thing was a colossal waste.”
Larry had been scared, it was once again up to Margaret to “carry the team.” They, unlike many dutiful soldiers and waiting wives, did have many fruitful years of marriage that followed. However, their luck would run out. In 2000, Margaret died suddenly of a heart attack.
Time
Just as Larry struggled to heal the tragedy in Vietnam, he too has struggled to heal from the tragic loss of his wife. Larry has been able to open up about his experiences “in country” through writing and veterans counseling, but talking about Margaret’s death, that is still too much.
Larry, given his background in classics, will tell you that his story is as old as time. Tragedy comes to soldiers that are sent forced to fight wars of people in power. Though Larry managed to run from this fate for many years, it finally caught up. I hope one day Larry will once again return to the arms of the woman he loves, but until that day, Larry, like all soldiers, must choose to heal.
March 12th, 1971: Darling, your love makes up my whole world. I love only you, Marg.
Author’s Note
Professor Lawrence Tritle was the professor of my father, Blaise Simqu, at Loyola Marymount University. Larry and my father had a special bond and my father took one of his classes each of his four years. Without both of them, this paper could never have happened.