Hauenstein and McCombie last saw each other June 17, 1970 on a rural mountainside. They were both 20 years old and soldiers in Vietnam.  Hauenstein had been hit in the spine by a round from a Russian made AK-47.  McCombie, a medic, was the first one by his side. The injury left Hauenstein paralyzed from the waist down.

Correspondence between the men was brief. Soon, they lost touch. For the next 26 years, they each would wonder what had happened to the other.  Hauenstein moved to Beavercreek and married in 1975. He and his wife, Susan, had three children. He became a devout Christian and an ordained minister, and has served as dean of the Bible Institute at Charity Baptist Church since 1980.

McCombie returned to his hometown of Lafayette, La. Divorced and the father of two children, he was injured in an automobile accident two years ago and has been unable to work since.  Charity member Bill Gallagher first thought of reuniting Hauenstein and McCombie after reading a religious tract Hauenstein wrote about his experiences in Vietnam.

"About six months ago, I talked to another church member about the idea," Gallagher said, asking, "Wouldn't it be good if we could find this man?"  In June, Gallagher began sending out queries to see if he could track McCombie down. Letters to the Veterans Administration and locator services and phone calls to McCombies across the country proved futile. Gallagher then turned to Howard Security and Patrol Service, a Dayton detective agency.   Bill Howard, owner of the agency, said it was one of the more difficult cases he has seen. "Normally, we have something to go on besides the name," he said.

After two months of searching through the Internet and the VA, he located McCombie and called him on Dec. 23.   "I had no idea what was going on," said McCombie, who immediately made plans to fly to Dayton to surprise Hauenstein. "The whole thing seemed to get crazier and crazier."  
Gallagher said only a handful of church members knew what was in store for Hauenstein. "We've been having a hard time keeping our mouths shut," he said.

In the spring, Hauenstein was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's disease, which causes a progressive weakening of the muscles. He now has limited use of his hands and difficulty speaking.   But when Gallagher announced McCombie's presence to the 200 church members New Year's Eve , Hauenstein needed no words.

He and McCombie hugged and cried together, sharing a private conversation filled with 26-year-old emotions, as the church audience jumped to its feet and shouted praises to the Lord,  "I always wondered who you were," Susan Hauenstein said to the man her husband said saved his life. "I just want to let you know, he always thought about you."   With help from his wife, Hauenstein later struggled to describe his feelings.

"I'm deeply humbled and appreciative of the love and friendship of our friends," he said.   McCombie brought with him two dog tags. In a letter to Hauenstein, McCombie wrote that his tag read "Life is good." On Hauenstein's tag: "Life is good. My prayers are with you. Paul."

Earlier in the evening, in an upstairs room of the church, McCombie had burst into tears as he recalled the last time he saw Hauenstein.   "When we put him on the chopper, I never expected to see him again. I didn't know if he would live," said McCombie, who returned to Louisiana Wednesday afternoon.

"I hope this is the first of many reunions."