Highsider Ch. 04

The last person I spoke to was Werkman, he was headed for Washington State and a new assignment.

"That sucks, man. Sorry you had to go through that," he told me.

"Yeah, what could've been, right?"

"Don't do that to yourself, bro. You'll kill yourself with the 'what ifs,' and get absolutely nowhere."

"It can't be helped, though" I replied, "I'm sure I had a lot to do with the strains in the marriage but still..."

"Its not the equipment, bro," he said as he shook my hand, "you just haven't found the right operator. Take care of yourself, my man. I'll see you when you get back."

That would be the last time I would ever see my friend. Three months later he would be leading a convoy through the mountains of Afghanistan and his vehicle would hit an IED. On his 7^th deployment, in a cold Saturday morning, my friend Werkman would succumb to injuries. His wife followed him soon after he was buried, she took a large amount of sleeping pills and went out in search of her husband in whatever land lies beyond this one. By the time I made it back home, the grass in his grave was beginning to turn yellow and a chill was beginning to take hold of the land.

...

"I'm sorry I wasn't there, brother" I said as I carefully laid the pack of cigarettes and the six pack of beer on top of the grave, "if I was it probably would've been me in that vehicle and you'd still be home. So would your wife. I'm so very sorry..."

"Is he the friend you were telling me about?" my girlfriend Angie carefully swept the few stray leaves from the grave marker trying her best to show respect for the man interred within.

"This is one of them," I replied, "this one is the crazy fucker that I deployed with all those times." I was trying to hold back the tears, "it's been a while, brother. I know I should've come sooner but I just couldn't bring myself to, things were difficult. But I wanted you to know, I think I might have found the right operator, and I wanted you to meet her."