When Adrian came marching home, it was well past midnight. La Verne Avenue was quiet and dark, but that didn't matter.

Inside the modest stucco home, a shower of hugs, tears, kisses, gifts and questions awaited Army Spec. 4 Adrian Yracheta.

"Hey Mom," he said, "I'm home."

Yracheta was the first of the five Chicano boys sent by La Verne Avenue to the Persian Gulf to return home.

All survived without a scratch. But even though everyone on the East Los Angeles street knows this, even though they know the fighting is finished for U.S. soldiers, it really isn't over until all their sons are back home.

"I hate this waiting," said Rachel Reyes, the unofficial leader of the La Verne parents. "This is worse than waiting for 12 o'clock on New Year's Eve."

For most of them, the waiting is about over.

Reyes' son Timothy, a Navy SEAL member, was aboard the Saratoga when the aircraft carrier returned last week to its home port in Florida. The 21-year-old is expected home in the coming weeks, his mother said.

Timmy's closest friend in the neighborhood, William Martinez of the 82nd Airborne Division, has arrived back at the unit's home at Ft. Bragg, N.C. His mother says he could be home by next week.

Parents of the two other boys--Ramon Alberto Sandoval Jr., 23, and Manuel Castro, 23, both of the Marine Corps--reported that no firm date has been set for their sons' homecoming.

But Yracheta was first, and that made his homecoming something special.

For his family and friends, the waiting for the paratrooper member of the Army's 82nd ended at 9:35 p.m. Wednesday near the baggage claim area inside Terminal 1 at Los Angeles International Airport.

When the uniformed soldier, wearing his maroon beret, came into view, the 30 or so well-wishers, decked out with banners, yellow ballons and homemade buttons with Adrian's picture, let out a loud cheer.

The boy's mother, father and grandmother rushed past a "no entry" sign to hug Adrian. The airport security guard did not try to stop them.

The soldier had thought hard about just what to say at this moment, which would surely be embedded in neighborhood lore for years to come. But it all gave way to the simplest greetings of all.

"Mom," Adrian said.

"Dad . . . Grandma."

The soldier began to cry.

So did the others as, one by one, Adrian gave each relative and friend a hug.