My husband, Army Capt. David R. Crocker Jr., was killed on May 17, 1969, along with four other soldiers while inspecting a Viet Cong bunker in the area of Chu Chi during the Vietnam War. His funeral took place on May 26, 1969, Memorial Day.

Thirty-eight years later, at a point when I thought memories of Dave existed only within our families, I met a group of wonderful strangers, by chance, because they had posted tributes to their beloved Company Commander on the virtual Vietnam Memorial Wall. When Dave’s brother typed his long deceased brother’s name into the website in 2005, the words of praise popped up. He tracked down the authors of the tributes and they invited our family to an upcoming reunion of the 22nd Infantry Regiment Society in 2006 of which Alpha Company, 2/22, is a part.

Since then, I’ve returned for reunions with them every 18 months. These are true reunions for them; Most of these veterans, now in their 60s and 70s, found each other again after decades at these events. For me, these gatherings, where I listen to them tell stories into the night, rekindle and support my memory of the four years I shared with Dave during our marriage. It is also a sobering immersion into the physical and emotional losses they experienced during the horrors of war that are imprinted in their memory.

They were boys in their late teens and early twenties back in the 1960s, mostly draftees who never expected to witness jungle warfare, stinging red ants, foot rot, monsoon rains, dust, burning sun, fear for their lives and their comrades, and ultimately the death of a trusted leader. They called him “the old man,” even though he was only 25.

After I received notification of Dave’s death from an Army colonel and a sergeant bearing a telegram May 21, no first person reports followed. Dave’s father, an Army colonel himself, was devastated by the void of information about his son’s death. He yearned to know the circumstances in detail and to hear witness accounts. He had served in Vietnam two years before Dave was deployed and he needed more details. I was still too numbed by the reality of the loss to be able to take in more information. I wanted to know more for the sake of Dave’s parents, but initially I sought silence more than information just to manage my grief.

An earmark of the Vietnam War was the silence that ensued immediately after the end and continued for years. Not until that first reunion in Omaha in 2006 did I begin to learn about the circumstances surrounding Dave’s death, his heroism during the six months leading up to that day, and the emotional aftermath for his comrades. How I wished that his parents had lived long enough to hear these stories.

“The men just sat around and cried,” said Dick Nash, one of his platoon leaders, recalling the day that Dave was killed. “They had to bring in support troops for us.”

Today, each time we meet for reunions, more members of A, B and C Companies of the 2/22nd Infantry have been located and the story stick continues to be passed, bringing back my beloved again and again in recollections of the intense life they lived together trying to survive the war. Deciding to come to a reunion the first time and speak about their experiences is scary, they say. I had a similar sentiment that first time but they treat me like a much-loved sister. I’m honored to be included among them and privy to their vivid memories.

There is a “knowingness” that exists between us at these reunions. It is deeper and more palpable, more contactful, than any high school or college reunion I’ve experienced. Reunion is to “reunite” and they have united me with the memory of what it was for them to know Dave as a courageous, caring leader in a terrible war.

When a soldier dies during — or after — a war, those who served with him or her hold the treasure of remembering that person; a priceless gift to be shared with survivors when the opportunity arrives.

For more information about the 22nd Infantry Regiment Society and the reconnection of veterans and their comrades and with survivors, visit 22ndinfantry.org. Join those in the circle of remembrance who acknowledge Memorial Day throughout the year.

Ruth W. Crocker lives in Mystic. She can be reached at ruthwcrocker@gmail.com.