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April 11, 2006

Call to Duty : Desert Storm

He hugged her yet again. Soon, it would be time to go.

The call had come late... they had been activated and would be moving out. There was little time to discuss things again. Their previous discussions would have to be enough. He remembered holding her hands on the porch swing, softly discussing the possibilities of what could happen, what had been taken care of. There was no "where" or "how long". Some things just cannot be answered. Some things just don't always make sense. A soft caress of the hair, a kiss, a whispered "It will be alright", and a drying of many tears.

Even now he still felt trepidation, but did his best not to show it. He had to be brave for her. The heat made him uncomfortable. The echo of boots in cadence echoed around the gathered soldiers and morose family members. The fear was palpable. Weeping and low discussions clouded the mass like a shroud stealing the breath. The trucks were starting, their loud engines punching through the pall.

"Remember what you promised me?" She asked between tears, numbly straightening his collar, staring almost through him, seemingly memorizing his every feature upon the tablet of her mind. He repeated everything back to her, just to make her feel at ease, though he knew that she couldn't. The pain in her eyes hurt him the most, reaching into his soul and threatening to pull him under, but there was nothing he could do. Duty was duty. There was a job to do.

The hated time arrived, final goodbyes were said. Again, her eyes haunted him... the tears burning, etching a path down her face. He swallowed hard and fought the tide of emotions threatening to swallow him as she clutched him fiercely to her. "Remember that I love you, baby," she whispered, quickly wiping the last tear from her face with her camouflaged sleeves. "I love you to, Mommy." he tried to answer, but the burning in his throat made it sound like a croak. Jumping into the truck, she gave a stilted wave and then turned away... the dust of the receding caravan of vehicles hiding any further view of her.

He watched until the last trailing lights of the trucks vanished before turning away into his grandmother's waiting arms, weeping that she was gone. He had been brave for her to see. It would have to be enough. Now he could finally cry.

Posted by Ravennacht at April 11, 2006 01:19 AM Posted to Memory Lane | Military