Sal Veder's best photograph: a Vietnam PoW's joyful reunion with his family

When I worked for Associated Press I did pretty much everything, from the 1964 Alaska earthquake to mining disasters, boxing matches, football games and space shots. The capsules that landed in the Pacific were retrieved by aircraft carriers I was on. It was tough and exciting: you wait, you prepare, then you have seconds to get the shot.

It was wonderful but I saw a lot of tragedy. I twice went out to the war in Vietnam. I never really saw combat, but it was pretty hectic. By the mid-1970s, everyone was glad to be getting out. I was based on the west coast of the US and took this at Travis air force base in California in March 1973, when PoWs were returning from Vietnam. I was one of two photographers assigned by AP. Planes were coming in morning and afternoon: one of us would work the darkroom, the other take photographs. Back then, darkrooms weren’t like they are now – we had to construct them out of black plastic, and needed a lot of water and chemicals.

That day, we were working out of a ladies’ restroom, though I’d drawn the straw for taking shots in the afternoon. There was a reception area where planes taxied to. The PoWs got out and met their families. The photographers were kept in a grandstand, basically a big pen. We were not allowed to roam around. There was a lot of competition, maybe 40 photographers.

This family came out of nowhere, got out of their car and dashed for the soldier, who’d been a PoW for five years. I saw them out of the corner of my eye, turned and started shooting. You could tell, even at a distance, what they were feeling. It was all over them, their faces, the way they all broke into a run. There was a surge of emotion from the crowd, too.

But the PoW, Robert L Stirm, appeared stoic. He’s very formal, very uptight, walking in a downbeat manner. We found out six months later that his wife had ended their marriage by letter just a few days before. I wasn’t privy to the reason. His reaction was definitely different, though at the time there was no indication why.I was jostling with a photographer from the San Francisco Examiner, who took a very similar shot. The difference between them may have been minimal, but it was enough for me to win the Pulitzer prize. I ascribe it to pure fortune. I was surprised when it won – I didn’t even know AP had submitted it on my behalf. I’m not the type of guy who enters contests. And I didn’t dwell on it afterwards. It was back to normal, covering whatever I was told to do.

CV

Born: 30 August 1926, Berkeley, California.

Trained: “Self-taught, but good photographers helped me. I’d started out as a sportswriter.”

Influences: “George Archinal, photographer for the Richmond Independent, my local newspaper.”

High point: “The Pulitzer, no doubt about that.”

Low point: “None I can think of, honestly.”

Top tip: “Immerse yourself in the medium.”