Soldiers’ Moms Worry, See Doom Behind Diplomacy’s Shifting Sands

In the face of disaster, the Chicano mothers of La Verne Avenue have learned to put on their best and bravest face. But beset by unrelenting news of pending doom, they acknowledged this week that even their deep belief in God may not be enough.

Along the street, the mothers--trying to make sense of the mixed messages of rapid-paced diplomatic maneuvers--seemed resigned to the inevitability that a ground war in the Persian Gulf was about to begin.

“God may not even help,” said Maria Martinez, echoing the feelings of the street’s parents who have been gathering at Rachel Reyes’ home to sort out their feelings and lend each other moral support.

Martinez, a soft-spoken native of Mexico, is one of five mothers with a son in the Gulf who live on a tiny stretch of La Verne Avenue in East Los Angeles. She knows that son William, 20, a member of the 82nd Airborne Division, would be in the thick of a ground war.

“If you believe in God, anything is possible,” she said. “But with this man (Saddam Hussein), who knows?”

Four of the men are assigned to infantry units. Adrian Yracheta, 21, also is in the 82nd, one of the Army’s premiere fighting divisions. Manuel Castro and Ramon Alberto Sandoval Jr., both 23, are in the Marines.

Only Reyes’ son, Timothy, 20, a member of the elite Navy SEAL unit, would not be directly affected by a U.S.-led ground campaign to oust Iraqi troops from Kuwait.

In following the course of the news, the mothers have gone from hope to tearful despair.

Last week, there were joyous pre-dawn telephone calls to friends and relatives when news broke that Iraq offered to withdraw from Kuwait.

Then came consoling hugs in informal gatherings when President Bush rejected the peace initiative as a “cruel hoax.”

They reacted with cautious shrugs and murmurs of “no se” (I don’t know) when the Soviet Union offered its peace plan.

But then, they discarded all caution late Thursday when the Soviets announced that the Iraqis accepted a plan to withdraw from Kuwait.

“Is it true?” Reyes repeated to herself in the front yard of her small home.

When an TV reporter cornered her, Reyes, whose home has become the unofficial “command and control center” for La Verne Avenue, put her best foot forward, saying:

“I’m just so happy, but yes . . . I’m a little skeptical. There’s no need for all these boys to die.”

With Martinez and neighbor Dela Jean Villarreal, whose Marine son also may be headed for the Gulf, Reyes rushed off from the TV interview to telephone husband Steve at work.

“Did you hear the news, honey?” Reyes said to her husband.

“Now, Rachel,” a skeptical Steve Reyes replied, “don’t be playing around. Remember last week you got all happy? Don’t be doing this again to me.”

Insisting her hope was well founded, Rachel happily ended the call to share her joy with other visitors.

At one point during the neighborly chatter, one of the youngsters Reyes cares for, 2-year-old Cindy, began to cry.

“Why are you crying?” Reyes playfully asked the toddler. “Saddam should be crying, not you. You should be happy.”

Later, she showed off a cartoon drawn by her husband--a GI bearing a remarkable resemblance to Bart Simpson choking Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein, who is sputtering to his attacker, “Who are you ?”

Reyes giggled each time a visitor read the punch line aloud.

It was left to Martinez and Villarreal to gently remind Reyes that the United States had not yet reacted to the Soviet announcement.

“You really think there’ll be a ground war?” Reyes asked.

“Creo que si ,” Martinez nodded.

“I think so, too,” Villarreal agreed.

Reyes’ mood hit rock bottom. But she still searched for hope.

“Maybe Saddam is just playing with us,” she said. “Maybe . . . “