Can brothers in Vietnam find each other once again?

The judge gave Edward Chevrette an ultimatum. He was 18 in 1969 in New Haven, Connecticut, and faced an assault charge for fighting.

“You’re on a path going nowhere,” the judge said. Chevrette could go to jail or join the military.

Chevrette, 19, enlisted in the Army. He arrived in Vietnam in June 1970, assigned to the 226th Supply and Service Company at Chu Lai Base as a convoy driver. His gunner was Robert Montoya, a 19-year-old from Phoenix.

“We were never apart,” Chevrette said.

The other guys gave Montoya a hard time because he was Latino.

“He was no different than me,” Chevrette, who’s white, said. “I had his back, and he had mine.”

Some of the hardest times were when they didn’t know what was coming next.

“We didn’t talk about the future because we weren’t sure we were going to live through the war,” Chevrette said.

Once, Chevrette had to rush Montoya to the hospital. Later, he said, Montoya asked him, “Why the hell did you save me?”

“Because you’re my brother,” Chevrette said.

A few months later, in early 1971, Montoya rotated home. Chevrette stood in the doorway and watched him go.

After returning home himself, he started looking for his old friend.

He’s been searching for 45 years.

He started with an Arizona phone book and paid for long-distance calls until he ran out of money. He asked the Veterans Administration for help, but privacy laws prevent information from being released to anyone but family.

Chevrette is 69 now, living again in Connecticut, near his daughter. She suggested he call the newspaper.

“He’s probably dead. I hope he’s not,” he told me. “It’s something I have to know before I die.

“He’s my brother.”