Dear Mrs. Grant,

At this time, I am sending information that come to mind about my son, Jim, and copies of material that I have saved.

As you will note, Jim did not come from New York.  He was born in Palmer, MA, and we moved to NH when he was six months
old.  On a separate sheet there is more information.

Jim suffered through Beast Barracks as all cadets do.  He commented one time – “How one human being can treat another human
being that way.”  He found relief by going to church.  Later on, as an upperclassman, he could understand the “why” and by then he
compared the change to his days as a plebe.  I have saved most of his letters from the Academy – we always joked about putting them into book form.  He truly loved the Point and the men he came to know so imtimately.  That closeness remains to this day, as I still
hear from some of them, especially at reunion time.

Following graduation, Airborne & Ranger training, etc., he was assigned to Fort Carson, CO.  In that time, Jim’s brother, Stan,
graduated from the University of Denver, enlisted, and then graduated from OCS, and was sent to Korea.  Six months after that Jim
went to Vietnam on his first tour.  Stan completed his one year in Korea and went to Ft. Sill, OK.  He decided to marry a hometown
gal, but wanted to wait until Jim came back from Vietnam.  This presented a problem – Jim had been prompted and extended his tour
an additional three months.  Jim eventually came back to the states.  Stan got married and was sent to Vietnam.  There again, Jim
waited to marry until Stan returned from ‘Nam.  It was a beautiful full military wedding.  Within six weeks, Jim went back to Vietnam a second time.  It was a harrowing five years for us.

On his first tour, Jim’s letters expressed the frustration he and his men felt as to how this war was being conducted – the brass in
Saigon and the politicians in Washington.  He was wounded and was awarded the Purple Heart (he never told us).  There was only one air drop conducted throughout this war and Jim participated as General Deane’s Aide, thus second one out for the jump.  He wrote
about this because there were photographers and reporters aboard.  Jim was afraid we would read about it in the news.  I am
enclosing the mailing addresses we had, but Jim never wrote much about his experiences over there and would not talk about it when
he came home.  Perhaps Stan or Mary Jo know more.

Toward the end of his last tour, Jim mentioned how tired he was and dragging from day to day; he said he hadn’t felt like this before.
When he came home he was a changed man and we felt something was wrong, but Jim never said anything.  Later that year we
visited them at Fort Benning, and Jim quietly told us that he had cancer and was scheduled for an operation.  He had been advised by
his doctors to tell his family, otherwise I don’t think he would have done so.  My brother-in-law, Dr. Peter Mozden, an oncologist at
Boston University Hospital arranged for Jim to come to Boston.  Peter said at that time that the Army was interested because they
wanted to know why so many men were coming back with cancer.  Going through the operation, chemotherapy, etc., the situation
had stabilized and Jim was assigned to Fort Lewis, WA, to reactivate a company that had been mothballed.  In October Jim called
home to tell us that the cancer had returned and he was quite ill.  Jim requested that he be moved to a military hospital closer to home
and family.  We flew out to Fort Lewis in November to arrange for some of his personal affairs.  He still would not allow us to tell
anyone of his condition.  In mid December, via Med-Evac, he was airlifted to Chelsea Naval Hospital (now closed).  Mary Jo, being a
nurse, was allowed to travel with him as his attendant.  Mary Jo found an apartment in Melrose to be nearby and we traveled every
other day to visit him.  Another operation was scheduled, but not until after New Years.  Things kept being put off, much to Jim’s
disgust.  One day we got a call to come to the hospital as soon as possible.  Peter called to say that Mary Jo was going to need some
support.

When we got to the hospital, the doctors told us that they were going to have to amputate Jim’s right leg at the hip.  Jim was now in
shock.  Peter took us aside and explained that cancer had spread throughout and the amputation would not save his life.  We could
only hope for a few more months, bedridden and without a leg.  Did we want that for Jim?  It was better to let him go now.  A few
days later (January 25), Jim died at 5 o’clock in the afternoon, just as they were lowering the flag in front of the hospital.  Jim was
buried in the worst snowstorm of the winter.  The funeral detail from Fort Devens never made it, but got stranded in Manchester.  At
6 o’clock a.m. that morning, the chaplain from the American Legion rounded up Jim’s classmates and friends that were here for the
funeral to practice the folding of the flag and to be pallbearers.  There was no firing squad, nor playing of “Taps”.  Knowing Jim, he
would have been very disappointed, as we were.  Thus ended a promising life, leaving a heartbroken family.

Jim’s brother, Stan, checked into having Jim’s name put on the Vietnam Memorial Wall, but was told that Jim wasn’t killed in combat
and his death was not war related.  I will argue that point—where else did he get cancer?  I still hurt from this whole situation.  I am
watching, very closely, how the “Gulf War Syndrome” is being handled.  It looks like a duplicate of “Agent Orange.”

Jim’s close friend, Nick Loukianoff, is involved in real estate development in the Walnut Creek, California, area.  One of the streets in
one development is named “Mozden Lane” in memory of Jim.  Nick sent us a duplicate street sign and some pictures.  Some of the
Mozden family living in California have found the street and sent more pictures.

Other information is enclosed with notations.  If more is needed, call me and I’ll jog my memory.  In gathering this information and
reliving those years so long ago, I shed a few tears.  Not only for Jim, but for all those thousands killed and wounded (have a nephew
who was left with a mechanical voice box and a crippled leg).  In spite of all this, I am proud of all our military and feel privileged to
have had some connection with them.  I still get a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes when the flag goes by and the band plays.
And I faithfully watch the Army-Navy game every fall.

I will end here and hope for a Happy New Year for your and yours,    Sincerely,

Cecelia Mozden, mother of Jim