Every Christmas Eve, the Williams boys recall their mother's intuition.

She had been diagnosed with breast cancer in the fall of 1970 and underwent a mastectomy, chemotherapy and radiation. She kept a good attitude, but was sick a lot.

The oldest of her three sons, Bob Jr., was in the Army, stationed in Germany. Though he was a long way from Vietnam, his parents worried that he might be sent there.

But in the fall of 1971, he began shipping possessions home in anticipation of his discharge in late January 1972.

Luella Williams, the mother, thought the arrival of his things meant he was actually surprising her at Christmas. She thought her husband and her other two sons, Gary and Rick, were in on it.

No, they told her, he's not coming until late January. And they meant it. There was no conspiracy.

When his skis arrived, though, she was sure he'd be right behind them.

"We were worried that she was getting her hopes up," Gary said. "We told her no. But she was absolutely convinced he was coming home for Christmas."

She even bought presents for Bob and placed them under the tree at the family's home near 47th Street and Bedford Avenue.

"It was kind of funny, but it was sad," Gary said. "We were doing everything we could to dissuade her. The more we did, the more convinced she became that we knew something."

Unknown to the family, on Dec. 20 Bob Jr. received word that the Army had bought more plane tickets to get GIs home in December than there were GIs scheduled to leave. So if he could get through Army processing, he could take an early out.

Everything fell into place, just barely. Late on Dec. 21, he caught a ride to the train station - arriving as the train was pulling out. Two young German soldiers saw him running and held the door open.

He got to a military post in Germany, the last to arrive in a gymnasium filled with soldiers hoping to get home.

"Amazingly enough," recalled Bob, who now lives in Denver, "although I was literally one of the very last to get a ticket, I did get one and began the long flight home on Dec. 22."

He arrived at Fort Dix, N.J., and on Dec. 24 flew to Chicago, where he made connections to Omaha. The plane for home had to return to the terminal because of a warning light, and then left Chicago late. Everything was such a close call that Bob didn't call ahead.

He arrived in Omaha and took a cab home, walking the final block to take in all the old sights and lights.

At 6 p.m. on Christmas Eve, he knocked on the door. His brothers ran out and hugged him. Luella, who was on the phone, dropped the receiver and ran to the door.

Bob Sr., who worked at Woodmen of the World, arrived later. He dropped his cigarette and burned a hole in a decorative Christmas tablecloth.

Luella died in 1978 and Bob Sr. in 1981. Bob Jr. is soon to retire from the U.S. Geological Survey. Gary is manager for corporate communications at the Omaha Public Power District. Rick is a professor at Notre Dame.

The sons say the Christmas of 1971 was their most memorable. Bob Sr. told Bob Jr. that the homecoming mimicked his own at the end of World War II - all the trains and buses were packed, but a stranger gave him a ride from Denver.

In that case, Bob Sr. came home to his young wife, Luella. Bob Jr. was born a little more than nine months later.

At Christmas 1971, she knew her soldier son was coming home. Said Bob Jr.: "Mothers seem to know things that simply can't be explained."