Victor Di Cavallucci was born on February 2, 1947 in Philadelphia, PA. He grew up in South Philadelphia, until the family moved to Southwest Philadelphia in 1951. Victor attended Catholic schools throughout his twelve years of primary and secondary education. He attended St. Barnabas Elementary School and West Catholic High School, both in Philadelphia. Victor took his Catholic religion very seriously, and he attended mass regularly. In 1962, he asked his parents if he could study to be a priest. He wanted to attend seminary school in Chicago. Victor had been so determined that he even invited a Catholic priest from Chicago to meet and speak with his parents. Since Victor was still in high school, his parents advised him to wait until he finished school before making his final decision.
“While Victor was still in high school, he met a lovely girl named Rosella and changed his mind about becoming a priest. Upon graduating from high school in June 1965, he went to work for Westinghouse Electric in Lester, PA. In 1966, Victor was drafted into the US Army. His home of record was Turnersville, NJ.
Fortunately, Victor was assigned to Fort Dix, NJ, for boot camp. This allowed his family the opportunity to visit him on weekends after his initial training. Upon completion of boot camp and during subsequent training, the Army became aware of Victor’s leadership qualities and asked him if he was interested in becoming an officer. He decided that was what he wanted to do, so he went to Fort Benning, GA, where he seized the moment. Officer Candidate School is not for the faint of heart. Victor never complained when he spoke of the rigors of the OCS training, and one was amazed that anyone could go through this type of grueling training and survive. Victor not only survived, he graduated near the top of his class. Up until that time, very few non-college graduates were given the opportunity to become an officer, but because of Victor’s high aptitude, the Army made an exception. He was an exemplary officer who earned the admiration and respect of his men.
After graduating from OCS, Victor was transferred to Fort Lewis, WA, where he soon became restless. He knew he was needed elsewhere. Being the staunch patriot that he was, who loved his country, he volunteered for Vietnam. When he received his orders to go Vietnam, he was ecstatic. He attained the rank of Second Lieutenant (2LT).
He served with the 42nd Army Postal Unit and had duties that he never shared with his family. However, while in Vietnam, he treated the Vietnamese children as his own. He set up a school for them and taught them English on his own time. This act of kindness didn’t surprise those who knew him. Victor was well liked by all who met him. He had an undeniable magnetism. His laughter was infectious.
Victor was stationed in Phu Bai during the Tet Offensive, which was near the ancient city of Hue. On the morning of February 29, 1968, he and two of his men were driving to a Marine base when his jeep was ambushed by the Vietcong, just 100 yards from the gates of the base. The Vietcong fired a rocket at his jeep and opened fire with Russian AK 47 rifles, killing all three men in the jeep.
The family was notified on March 3, 1968, that he was missing in action. Two days later, the family was informed that Victor was killed in action.
It has been thirty years since Victor sacrificed his life for our country. He was survived by his mother, Roslyn, father, Edward, and two brothers, James and Richard. We often wonder how our lives would have been different had Victor lived, and we always come up with the same conclusion…even though we have been very fortunate, our lives would have been infinitely better.”
Written by Richard Di Cavallucci, Brother
Victor
February 2, 1947-February 29, 1968 2LT, Army Turnersville, NJ
“He was a man’s man; someone anyone could look up to,” says Richard Di Cavallucci of Cranberry Township, PA. “I certainly believe that if he had survived the war, he could have been the President if he wanted to. Victor was well liked by all who knew him, he had an infectious laugh, and an undeniable magnetism. My brother was my hero growing up, and I still think of him often. I named my first son after him to keep his name alive.”
Victor Di Cavallucci was born on February 2, 1947, and raised in Philadelphia. He attended Catholic schools throughout his twelve years of primary and secondary education. The family moved to Turnersville, NJ, in January of 1965, where Victor commuted from until his graduation from West Catholic High School in June. He was about six feet tall and weighed 180 pounds. He was not overly muscular, but was always in good physical condition and very athletic. He wore glasses and had a scar over his right eye from a childhood accident involving a venetian blind.
“Victor took his religion very seriously,” Richard remembers. “In 1962, he asked our parents if he could study to be a priest by attending a seminary in Chicago. They advised him to wait until he finished high school before making his final decision. As fate would have it, he met a lovely girl named Rosella and changed his mind about becoming a priest. After he graduated, he went to work for Westinghouse Electric in Lester, Pennsylvania.”
While working at Westinghouse, Victor met and befriended Andrew Kozak, now of Bellmawr, NJ. They were both assigned to the midnight shift and car pooled together for several months.
“We worked from midnight to 8 AM,” says Kozak. “It was during those many rides to and from work that we talked about the future, careers, marriage, and children. Vic always had a ‘joke of the day’ to tell me. We both had signed up for night classes and with no bosses around, often had time for ‘paid study hall.’ Somehow, we never talked about Vietnam until after Vic received his draft notification.”
“I was an anti-war activist in those days,” he continues. “I was against all wars that killed and injured young men for reasons not understood by those doing the dying. I remember telling him that we should go to Canada with our girlfriends, but Victor went with the flow, never dreaming he would end up in Vietnam. He went into the service because it was the patriotic thing to do, and anything else would have seemed un-American. For those of us who didn’t go to Vietnam, we carry a place in our souls laden with guilt. We want to put the war and its aftermath out of our minds, but we can’t. It’s a splinter of pain that hurts constantly.”
In the fall of 1966, Victor entered the Army as a draftee and was sent to Fort Dix, NJ for basic training. Richard says, “Our family had the opportunity to visit him on weekends after his initial training. Upon completion of boot camp and during subsequent training, the Army became aware of Victor’s leadership qualities and asked if he would be interested in becoming an officer. He quickly decided that was what he wanted to do and went to Fort Benning, Georgia, for Officers Candidate School.”
“It was there at OCS where Victor seized the moment,” Richard recalls. “It was not for the faint of heart and Victor never complained when he told us of the rigors of the training. He not only survived, he graduated near the top of his class. Until then, very few non-college graduates were given the opportunity to become officers. The Army made him an exception, and he was an exemplary officer who earned the admiration and respect of his men, as attributed by the letters and phone calls we received from those who served with him in Vietnam.”
After receiving his commission as a Second Lieutenant, Victor was assigned administrative duties at Fort Lewis, Washington. “He soon became restless,” remembers Richard. “He knew he was needed elsewhere. And being the staunch patriot he was, he volunteered for Vietnam. And when he received his orders, he was ecstatic. I know my parents weren’t happy, but they knew there was little they could do. My father was a World War II veteran who fought in Africa and Italy, and he knew the horrors of war all too well.”
“Our family felt a loss the day Victor left for Vietnam on October 23, 1967,” Richard continues. “But we never imagined that we would never see him alive again.”
“He was assigned to the 42nd Army Postal Unit and had duties that he never shared with us. We do know that while in Vietnam, he treated the Vietnamese children as his own. He helped set up a school for them and taught them English on his own time. I still reflect on this each time I watch the news or read newspapers detailing all the violence and hatred in this world. My brother was in a foreign country fighting a war amidst people who hated him, and yet, he found enough love in his heart to teach Vietnamese children, a truly selfless gesture. That is one of the reasons I admired him so much.”
In September of 1990, during a memorial dedication to his son, Edward Di Cavallucci spoke reverently of Victor’s service. He said, “Victor’s many letters home outlined his strong beliefs in our country’s noble effort to help the Vietnamese people. And he wanted to do all he could to help that cause.”
Richard also recalls Victor’s sense of purpose and direction. He fervently believed in what we were doing,” he says. “He wanted the politicians to let the military fight to win in Vietnam, and was frustrated by the lack of commitment on the part of our leaders. He absolutely felt this was a fight of good versus evil. He loved his country very much and never spoke ill of the war protesters in this country, but thought they were misguided. They couldn’t carry my brother’s sneakers. In my mind, they were, and are still, a despicable group.”
On the morning of February 29, 1968, the extra day of the leap year, Victor was making a payroll delivery to a group of Marines stationed at a small outpost near Hue, the ancient capital of Vietnam. The famous Tet offensive of 1968 was four weeks old. There were three men in the jeep as it approached to within a hundred yards of the compound. The enemy had set up an ambush. When they fired a rocket and several automatic weapons at the jeep, Victor and the other two on board were killed.
“We were notified on March 3rd that Victor was missing-in-action,” recalls Richard. “Two days later, we were informed Victor had been killed. I will never forget the night the officer knocked on the door of our Washington Township home. It’s like it was yesterday…and to this day, it remains the saddest day of my life.”
Victor was given a military burial at Beverly National Cemetery on March 13, 1968. The viewing the night before drew so many people that there was a line around the block of the funeral home.
“It was a final tribute to an exceptional young man who, in a special way, touched the lives of everyone he met,” says Richard. “My family will always be thankful that we were able to have my brother’s body viewed in an open casket, in stark contrast to the majority of the brave soldiers who die in combat. It was the one small consolation we had from this horrible ordeal.”
Andrew Kozak, Victor’s friend and anti-war activist, could not bring himself to attend the funeral. With regret and sorrow, he remembers the time well. “I knew Vic’s dad and felt ashamed, guilty and sure I would not fit in. And I didn’t know what to say to the family. It hurt too much. I couldn’t go the any of the funerals of my friends who died in Vietnam.”
Kozak did visit the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington in 1990. “I looked up the names of eight friends of mine on the Wall,” he says. “Vic’s name sort of jumped out at me. It was a cold, rainy and windy day. There were about forty to fifty people milling around. I spent a lot of time crying and thinking about Victor’s honest and simple visions for the future. He wanted to get married, throw a football around with his kids and play horseshoes. Maybe drink a few beers on Sunday. That’s not a lot to ask from life.”
“I realize now that the men and women who served were indeed a special breed,” he continues. “They were fighting and dying in an unpopular war on a foreign soil, while their classmates and friends were protesting back home for us to get out of Vietnam. Any pride they may have felt for serving their country was tempered by the folks back home. Victor was a shining example of an honest, hardworking, happy guy who loved life and his country. And so to my good friend and companion– You will never be forgotten as a proud and humble young man who served his country well. You will always be remembered.”
Richard Di Cavallucci reflects the feelings of his family regarding the loss of Victor. “It has been over thirty years since Victor sacrificed his life for his country. He is survived by his mother Roslyn, his father Edward and two brothers, James and Richard. We often wonder how our lives would have been different had Victor lived. And we always come up with the same conclusion. Even though we have been very fortunate, our lives would have been infinitely better. I could probably write a book detailing my brother’s life, because he really was an extraordinary young man. In his twenty-one years, he lived a lifetime. We will always miss Victor very much. He was our friend, our brother and our son. But most of all, he was our hero.”
Excerpt from They Were Ours: Gloucester County’s Loss in Vietnam
by John Campbell
Used with permission of author
Information provided by Richard Di Cavallucci (brother), John Campbell and NJVVMF.
12/17/2024
