Episodes

Send us a text On Tuesday, December 21, 1971, Sarah and Dick write from opposite sides of the world — both restless, deeply in love, and looking ahead to the same future. Sarah, deep into pregnancy in San Antonio, is surrounded by friends, watching soaps, attending small Christmas gatherings, and feeling time move unevenly as she waits for the months ahead to pass. Dick writes from Bien Hoa, newly sent out on alert again, missing his wife, nervous about becoming a father, and imagining the lo...

Send us a text On Monday, December 20, 1971, Sarah and Dick Allgood write three letters between them from opposite sides of the world. Sarah writes from San Antonio, deeply pregnant, exhausted, surrounded by friends and Christmas cards, and growing more physically uncomfortable by the day. Dick writes twice from Vietnam — once early in the morning after getting off alert, and again later that night — admitting plainly how nervous he is about becoming a father while being so far away. With no ...

Send us a text On December 19, 1971, Sarah and Dick Allgood write from opposite sides of the world as Sarah approaches delivery. Sarah describes false labor, visible kicks from their baby, and the loneliness of Sundays without her husband. Dick writes from Vietnam about love with uncommon clarity — and for the first time admits how nervous he is that he isn’t there. Later that same night, Sarah writes again at 2:30 a.m., unable to sleep, naming her fears, anxiety, and the comfort she finds si...

Send us a text On December 18, 1971, two letters cross the world in opposite directions. Dick writes from Saigon after completing his first day of alert duty at Tan Son Nhut Air Base — describing central air conditioning, movie theaters, and a dysfunctional command structure. Sarah writes from San Antonio, eight months pregnant and in early labor, counting contractions, counting dollars, and listing — point by point — exactly why she loves her husband. Together, these letters complicate the f...

Send us a text On December 17, 1971, only one letter arrives. With Dick now stationed at Tan Son Nhut Air Base in Saigon, the mail is unsettled once again — and this time, there is no letter from him at all. Sarah’s letter carries the full weight of that silence. Writing from San Antonio, she responds to lingering doubts, a doctor’s appointment that changes everything, and the reality of a pregnancy entering its final stretch. The baby has dropped. The head is locked in place. Christmas is da...

Send us a text On December 16, 1971, both Sarah and Dick write shorter letters — not because there is less to say, but because what matters most is already known. Dick writes from Vietnam after a day on alert, asking Sarah if she can feel the love radiating between them, reminding her that together — with their little one — they will have the world by the tail. In San Antonio, Sarah writes from a quiet day surrounded by care, rest, and tenderness, echoing that same certainty: this separation ...

Send us a text On December 15, 1971, Sarah writes from San Antonio — very pregnant, uncomfortable, sentimental, and deeply loved. This letter isn’t just about waiting for a baby or missing her husband. It’s about community. Friends stopping by. Meals shared. Errands run together. Love sent across the world. While Dick is still in Vietnam, Sarah is not alone — she’s surrounded by people who care for her, watch out for her, laugh with her, and hold space while she waits. This episode is a remin...

Send us a text On December 14, 1971, both Sarah and Dick are standing on the edge of something — though neither quite knows what the next day will bring. In Vietnam, Dick spends the day out-processing, turning in equipment, and packing up his hooch as his detachment closes down. He’s exhausted, practical, and already looking ahead to the only packing that really matters — coming home. In San Antonio, Sarah wakes with early labor symptoms and believes for a moment that the baby might arrive. W...

Send us a text On December 13th, 1971, Sarah is deep into late pregnancy. She sprains her ankle getting out of the car, finishes her Christmas shopping, and settles in for the evening with help from friends as she prepares for the home stretch before giving birth. Meanwhile, Dick is on alert duty at Biên Hòa, where the crash phone rings nonstop. With his move to Tân Sơn Nhứt Air Base just days away, he writes about the final preparations and the strain of leaving a place he’s gotten used to...

Send us a text On Sarah’s 32nd birthday, she wakes to roses, a long-awaited phone call from Vietnam, and the familiar circle of friends who keep her steady as she waits for her baby to arrive. Across the world, Dick writes from a lonely room in Vietnam as his unit prepares to move from Biên Hòa to Tân Sơn Nhứt — a shift layered with tension he never lets spill onto the page. These two letters, written on the same day, reveal the everyday rhythm of a long-distance marriage in wartime: small ...

Send us a text On December 11th, 1971 — the night before Sarah’s 32nd birthday — she receives a bouquet of perfect rosebuds sent from Vietnam while Dick is in the middle of relocating to a new air base. In this warm, witty, deeply human letter, Sarah fights off a cold, tends to her late-pregnancy routines, prepares her hospital bag, and surrounds herself with the flowers she loves. Her voice is tender and funny, layered with longing and hope, and flavored with the quiet courage of a woman doi...

Send us a text On December 10, 1971, Sarah and Dick write from opposite sides of the world as everything begins to feel imminent. Sarah comes home from the doctor with news that labor may come sooner than expected. Dick responds with one of the longest and most declarative letters of the war — rooted in love, fidelity, and certainty. Together, these letters show a marriage grounded in character, even under the strain of distance, war, and waiting. Support the show The Allgoods: Vietnam T...

Send us a text On December 9, 1971, Sarah writes from San Antonio on a cold, rainy Thursday — eight months pregnant, alone, watching quiz shows, dealing with a broken television, and passing the time with friends and cookies. It’s an ordinary day made extraordinary by love. This letter moves between morning and night, loneliness and laughter, discomfort and devotion — a quiet reminder of how marriage survives war in the smallest moments. Support the show The Allgoods: Vietnam Through the...

Send us a text On December 8, 1971, the day after Sarah opens up about sleepless nights and crowded worries, the tone shifts. She’s still tired, still lonely — but steadier. Humor returns. Desire is loud again. Christmas preparations continue. Dick writes from Vietnam with his own quiet routine, thinking about gifts, the mail, and the life they’re building toward. These letters show how love doesn’t eliminate worry — it carries it, eases it, and makes room for laughter again. Support the show...

Send us a text On December 7, 1971, Sarah writes from San Antonio and, for the first time, puts words to a feeling she can’t quite name — sleeplessness, worry, and a mind that won’t slow down as Christmas, pregnancy, and separation pile up around her. Dick writes from Vietnam the same day, steady and loving, focused on the future and the home they will soon make together. These two letters meet in the middle — between exhaustion and reassurance, worry and faith — capturing a moment when love ...

Send us a text On December 6th, 1971, Dick writes from Vietnam with quiet hope — sharing that he’ll be home no later than March 23, 1972, finally giving their family a clear countdown. Sarah, meanwhile, writes a ten-page letter from San Antonio overflowing with Christmas shopping, BX mishaps, pregnancy chaos, gossip, and love. She also receives their new china and crystal — pieces I still have today, survivors of Hurricane Andrew, carrying their history and hers. Together these letters paint ...

Send us a text It’s Sunday, December 5th, 1971 — one week after Sarah and Dick said goodbye in San Antonio. He’s back in Vietnam, stuck on alert, and she’s eight months pregnant, moving through a cold, quiet December day with friends, errands, and longing. Today’s letters show how deeply they miss each other — and include a small moment that surprised me when I first read it: Sarah asks about the spelling of my first name, explaining that either version would honor Dick’s mother, Mary Alice. ...

Send us a text On December 4, 1971, Sarah and Dick write from two very different emotional spaces — she, deeply pregnant and exhausted, needing reassurance; he, energized by dreaming ahead to their life after Vietnam. In these two letters, we see a young couple planning their future: money in the bank, a baby on the way, business opportunities waiting in Miami, and even the names picked out for the child growing inside her. Their love, even in distance, is building something real Support th...

Send us a text On December 3, 1971, just days after their Thanksgiving reunion, Sarah and Dick wake up in two different worlds again — she in San Antonio, pregnant and hurting; he in Vietnam, back on alert and lonelier than he lets on. Their three letters from this single day show the softest parts of their love: the ache of separation, the humor that keeps them afloat, and the feeling that they are never fully themselves until they’re together. Support the show The Allgoods: Vietnam Thr...

Send us a text On December 2, 1971 — the first day of the final month of pregnancy — Dick writes from Vietnam and Sarah writes from San Antonio. The countdown home has finally begun, but the pain of saying goodbye is still sharp. These letters show what love looks like when hope and grief live together — hurting from the separation while holding on fiercely to the life waiting for them. Support the show The Allgoods: Vietnam Through the Eyes of Love is a personal podcast project based on...

Send us a text After two weeks together for Thanksgiving, Dick returns to Vietnam on November 28, 1971. Sarah is eight months pregnant and back in their San Antonio apartment — learning once again how to sleep alone, eat alone, and fill a day without the man she loves beside her. These two letters, written just days apart, show the emotional whiplash of reunion followed by separation: from the first night without him to the struggle of trying to find her footing again. Support the show T...

Send us a text It’s November 18, 1971. Dick is on the airplane flying home from Vietnam — the same familiar flight path he once flew in a C-141, now taking him back to his wife. Sarah is in San Antonio, almost eight months pregnant, tidying the apartment and stocking food so they won’t need to leave the house once he arrives. There are no letters today because they won’t need envelopes tonight. Today is reunion day Support the show The Allgoods: Vietnam Through the Eyes of Love is a pers...

Send us a text On November 14, 1971, Dick writes what will be his final letter before flying home for R&R. In just four days, he’ll be back in San Antonio, holding Sarah for the first time in six months. This is the last letter until November 28, after Thanksgiving and their long-awaited time together. Right now, everything is building toward reunion Support the show The Allgoods: Vietnam Through the Eyes of Love is a personal podcast project based on real letters exchanged between C...

Send us a text On November 13, 1971, Sarah finally gets a flood of letters after days of silence — four all at once — and the relief pours through every word she writes. She opens up about her fears around her pregnant body, her longing for Dick to see her grow, and her dreams of having “two kids within two years.” She’s imagining a bigger family and a life that feels just within reach. Dick, writing from Vietnam, is only days from coming home for leave, and he knows this may be the last lett...