My Dearest Becky Pt. 02

"Drake!" I yelled. "11 o'clock high, second story window! Waste those bacon hating heathens!"

The deep chugging of the heavy machine gun cut through the cacophony of battle, sending dust and bricks tumbling down as he hit the window with short, controlled bursts. I scanned the surrounding rooftops but saw no movement.

Ryan's gun fired next, tracer rounds arching down the street at approaching targets. Drake shifted his fire to match Ryan's, cutting down men as they charged wildly up the street. I fired off several shots when I had targets, but I can't be sure if I hit anything.

"RPG!" Price called, firing towards a window down the road.

The rocket went short of its intended target, slamming into the ground about 50 feet in front of Drake's Humvee. The detonation sent dirt and rubble flying, with rocks pinging off the metal plating. Ryan kept firing, but Drake's gun had gone quiet.

"Price, check on Drake!" I yelled.

As the smoke and dust cleared, drake was hunched down in the turret. He was moving, but he wasn't firing. I ran over to check on him, fearing the worst.

"He's fine," Price said. "A little shaken, but unhurt."

"Thank god," I breathed. "Drake, get that .50 up!"

He didn't respond, still hunched over and rocking slightly back and forth. I climbed up on the Humvee, shaking his shoulder.

"Drake," I said calmly. "Either get back to firing, or get out. We need this gun."

He said nothing, just slowly got down out of the turret and moved behind the Humvee. I took his place in the turret, firing down the street at windows and rooftops.

"Price! I need ammo!" I yelled. Price jumped up with a fresh case of ammo, setting it where I could reach it. I grabbed his arm before he left.

"Give Ryan another case, then check on Drake!"

"Copy that!" He yelled.

I could hear shouting from behind me, followed by diesel engines. I smiles as I let loose with the .50, laughing at times even. When three trucks full of soldiers and a few dozen more on foot came running past us, Ryan and I stopped firing, scanning for threats in the upper windows.

As the soldiers began clearing houses, I left the turret, followed shortly after by Ryan. He jumped off his Humvee with an emotionless face, his hands trembling.

"You OK?" I asked.

"Yeah, its just adrenaline. I'm fine."

"Good work," I said, patting him on the back. "Go get some rest."

"What about Drake?"

"Lt and I will take care of him, you go sit down and drink some water."

Drake was sitting behind the Humvee, crying his eyes out. His fists were balled and he beat on the pavement in anger. I knew how he felt, I had felt similarly after my first fire fight. I sat down next to him, passing him my canteen.

"Drink this, you'll feel better," I said.

He took it and drank, passing it back to me when he was done. I lit two cigarettes and passed him one, which he accepted. We sat there together for a while, smoking cigarettes while we each cried. Several Marines had come by to check on us, but I sent them all away.

"How do you do it?" He asked finally. "How do you expose yourself to danger so easily?"

"It took a long time, and came at a great cost. I hope you never feel like me."

"I pussied out today, I let everyone down and acted like a bitch. How can I face them now?"

"Everyone deals with the stress of combat differently. I reacted much like you did my first time."

"Really?"

"Very much so. I didn't speak for a week after my first experience."

We talked for an hour before heading back in. The sound of distant gunfire was fading as the fighting came to an end.

---

It had been a few weeks since Andrew had given us permission to fool around while he was away. Carl had warmed to the idea after the first week and it helped me a lot with my sexual appetite. I made sure to keep things slow, only having a chance encounter with him once a week, yet getting with Jeanna almost nightly.

It was nice to have an outlet, yet it still felt wrong with Carl. Andrew had given his approval, yet I would still feel dirty afterwards. For his part, Carl was a decent lover, making sure I was taken care of before himself and usually making love to Jeanna shortly after or before me.

I was watching the news, something I had taken to since Andrew got into combat, and was dozing off when Lauren came home.

"Hey sis, mail's here," she said, setting the mail on the coffee table. I sat up and stretched before glancing through the usual bills and junk.

"Letters from our men," I said, handing her the plain white envelope addressed to her and opening my own.

My dearest Becky,

I love you so much. I hope that all is well and you're as happy as can be in these hard times. I miss you terribly each day and continue to dream of my return.

The boys are well, Tyler and Ryan send their love. We had our first fire fight a few weeks ago, with the only casualties being wounded prides. Ryan performed to the highest of standards and saved many lives, making me damn proud to be his friend. I just hope he isn't scarred by the incident.

We will be moving out soon to the next town, driving further into this god forsaken country in the name of freedom. We have already rooted out several major terrorist operations, each one bringing us closer to our trip home.

Next month marks the halfway point of our tour. It's all down hill from there. Time will fly by and we will be returning home before you know it. I dream every night of our return, triumphant and safe.

Pray for us as we continue to do our jobs and make the world a little safer every day. I love you with all my heart and always will.

All my love,

AA

"So, it's started," I said, more to myself than Lauren.

"What's started?" She asked.

"The war. Did Ryan not tell you?"

"He didn't mention anything about combat, just that he isn't as worried anymore."

I passed her my letter, watching as she read what Andrew had said. Her eyes began to water and she handed me back the letter. I took it back and pulled my sister close to me, silently holding her as she wept.

"It's OK Lauren, Ryan's in good hands. Andrew won't let anything happen to them."

"I hope you're right," she said.

"I know I am. He's much more scared of us than anyone over there."

--

Since our first contact with the enemy, spirits have been high for everyone except Drake. He was still having trouble dealing with his reaction to almost being killed, crying at night and staying quiet during the day. He and I had a few more talks, but nothing seemed to help him.

First Marines had started it's move to the next town, Al Mayadin. We followed behind them, having set up a few times to shell targets they had marked. As the weeks dragged on, we began to run into a supply problem. The entirety of First Marines required close to a metric shit ton of diesel fuel, ammo and rations. All that had to come all the way across Iraq and it took quite a while to get to us.

We heard rumors that Fifth Marines would be making an amphibious assault on the other side of the country, intent on hitting them from both sides and opening a more reliable supply chain. I had asked the CO but he hadn't heard anything more than we had.

"Anderson," Gunny called. "You got a minute?"

"Of course Gunny, what's up?"

"How's Drake doing?"

"He's OK, just dealing with the stress of combat."

"He's been awful quiet, some of the others are worried about him."

"I've got him Gunny. He'll be fine."

"OK, I trust your judgement. But if he can't hack it anymore, let me know and we'll swap him with someone else."

"Will do Gunny. Got anything for us?"

"Maybe, I've gotta check on some others before I give out the mission."

"Very well. We're ready if you need us."

He headed off, leaving me alone in the smoke pit. It wasn't long before Tyler, Simmons and Jones joined me, joking like old friends.

"Guys," I said, "Don't let Tyler push you around. I'm counting on y'all to keep him in line."

"Right," Tyler laughed. "Like they could keep me in line. It takes both you and Ryan to watch me at the bar."

"Yeah, but when alcohol is involved, you get worse."

We joked for a while, telling stories and bullshitting until Gunny came and found us.

"Anderson, got something for you," he said.

"What you got Gunny?" I asked.

"Patrol orders. Need you and your men to take a foot patrol to check up on some houses to the west."

"I think we can handle that, anything specific we're looking for?"

"We got a tip that someone over there is making bombs disguised as sidewalk curbs. Check it out, see what's up. If you find anything, document it, then call EOD for disposal."

"Copy that Gunny, we'll be ready."

"Alright, I'm going to find Christensen. Be ready to leave in two hours." Gunny left towards our tents.

"Well, you heard the man. Pack for overnight, just in case," I said before heading to our tents to find the rest of my crew.

-

The village was small, not even listed on any maps. Seven mud huts arranged in a circle around a large fire pit gave it a very primative feel. If you didn't follow the directions exactly, you'd drive right by it, and never know it was there to miss. Off in the distance, another grouping of buildings sat, the same circular pattern barely evident there.

We parked the Humvees about 100 yards from the buildings, walking in the rest of the way. We started clearing the houses one by one, finding no signs of anyone having been here in a while, until we came to the last house. The clue that gave it away, tea, still hot from being brewed moments earlier.

"Look alive," I said. "Someone was here minutes ago. No telling where they went."

"Drew!" Tyler called. "I found something!"

As I entered the tiny bedroom, I saw part of the floor had been removed, Tyler stood over it with his weapon pointed inside.

"Tunnels?" I asked.

"Yup, don't know where it goes, but I'd sure love to find out."

"You're not going in. Drake and I are."

"Damnit," Tyler said.

"You're in charge until I get back, cover this entry and make sure the men get chow."

"I'll see to it," he said sadly.

"Drake, on me, lets go."

We climbed down inside, turning on our flashlights and heading down the tunnel. It was small, maybe five feet tall, and seemed to go on forever. We finally came to another ladder, leading up to God knows where. I radioed Tyler, telling him to grab the others and join us.

"Damn this place is small," Jones said. "Can't they make these things for tall people?"

"Right, like they're expecting us to use it," Simmons said.

"Quiet, all of you. I'm going up, cover me," I said, heading up the ladder. I slowly pushed the trap door open and was greeted by an object about the size of a baseball. It rolled right to me, stopped only by my weapon. I batted it back and jumped off the ladder

"Get down!" I shouted, hearing the explosion above. Dust fell on us as we got back to our feet. I started up the ladder again, throwing the hatch open and scanning for enemies before climbing out.

The grenade had shredded the walls and furniture, but there was no body to be seen. I sat guard as the others made their way out, gathering in the small room.

"Drake and Ryan, on me. Simmons, Jones and Wirth with Tyler. Spread out and watch your backs," I said quietly.

We proceeded down a hallway, me in front, with Drake in the middle and Ryan bringing up the rear. We swept each room carefully, turning over beds and checking for more trap doors. This house was much larger than the others we had been in, and was probably used as a front for whatever operation they had.

We exited a bedroom, moving to the back of the house when another grenade came flying down the hallway.

"Grenade!" Drake shouted. I heard a weapon hit the wooden floor and turned to see Drake on the ground. As the grenade exploded, his chest rose sharply, landing with a wet smack.

"Fuck!" I yelled, charging into the room it had come from. The window was open and the bastard that threw it was running hard for the next house. I shot him 3 times, watching him fall and tumble, before returning to Ryan.

"Tyler!" I called. "Get over here now! Bring the med kit!"

I could hear running feet as Drake was rolled over, pulling me in closer to him.

"I didn't hesitate this time," he said, blood dribbling from his lips.

"Drake, listen to me," I said. "You're gonna be OK, lay still and try not to talk." The color was draining from him, his once tan skin looking white as paper.

"I am redeemed," he said softly. I felt his grip on me slacken, his hand falling to the floor.

"What happened?" Tyler asked as they rounded the corner.

"Drake saved us," I said, tears falling from my eyes like a waterfall.

"Where's the hadji that shot him?"

"Bleeding in the sand," I said, my tone surprisingly calm. "Stay here, I'm going to see him."

I headed for the window, knowing full well that they wouldn't listen to me. I was surprised to find the bastard still alive, bleeding from two gunshot wounds.

"Hi there," I said, letting my anger show. "Nice of you to throw that grenade. It killed my Marine, and that is unacceptable." I was just getting ready to kill him when Tyler grabbed me.

"Drew no! That's enough killing for one day."

I struggled against him, every fiber of my being demanding this man's death for what he did. I finally gave up, letting Tyler release me.

"Fine, he's on his own then," I said, walking away and leaving him to bleed. "Jones, Simmons, get the trucks. We'll prepare Drake for transport."

"Aye aye Sergeant," they said, running to the Humvees.

"This isn't your fault," Tyler said as we walked back to the building.

"Then why does it feel like it is?"

"That's war. You can't control who gets hit, who dives on a grenade, who lives and who dies. It's just war."

"Why'd it have to be him?"

"Because if it wasn't, then it would be you or Ryan, or all three of you. What would I tell Becky then?"

I didn't reply. Tyler had struck a nerve I didn't know would have such a profound impact on me. What would he have told Becky? Hell, what was I going to tell Drake's parents?

"Drew," Ryan said as we got back. "We found this letter on Drake, what's left of it anyway."

It was his death letter. I cried almost uncontrollably for a few minutes, trying to read what was left of it. It had been ruined by the blast, and what was left was covered in blood. There would be no transcribing it for his family, I would have to write a new one.

---

My dearest Becky,

Hope all is well. We lost one Marine yesterday, PFC Sean Drake. He saved our lives by giving his, selflessly diving on a grenade that would have killed me and Ryan. He was a good man and a fine young Marine, his loss is felt throughout the battery.

On a brighter note, only another month or so until we head back to the ship. It seems like I've been gone forever, and it seems like I still have an eternity to wait.

Tyler and Ryan send their best. Tell Carl and Jeanna that we miss them and can't wait to be home again. I just hope Carl hasn't burned the plant down.

I may get a chance to call you soon. It's been so long since we last talked and I can still hear your voice clearly. I miss it, as I miss everything about you.

I love you, every day, from now until eternity.

AA

My eyes welled up as I read the letter he sent. I prayed that he was doing OK, knowing how he had reacted the last time he lost Marines. The letter was dated a week ago, so he must have been busy. He said he would call me if he could, but I haven't had any calls.

I stopped having sex with Carl after a rather embarrassing time we had together. Memories of Andrew had come back to me and I started crying, running back to my room and showering for over an hour. Carl was scared shitless until I explained it to him and Jeanna. I still made love to Jeanna, but it was much different than before.

I looked at the calendar, having marked off the days until his return and the days I received letters on. I marked off today, another red X in a calendar full of them.

"I love you Andrew, please stay safe," I said softly to myself.

---

"Guys," I said, getting the attention of my crew. "Bring it in, we need to talk."

"What's up?" Tyler asked.

"I need your help."

"With what?"

"Drake saved Ryan and my life, he deserves something for that besides a spot in Arlington."

"What'd you have in mind?"

"I wanna nominate Drake for the Medal of Honor. He wouldn't be the first to get it for jumping on a grenade, and won't be the last. Any objections?"

It was quiet for a while, the crew taking in what I said. Ryan spoke first.

"What do you need from us?"

"Ryan, you and I will probably have to write witness statements. They might want character statements from the rest of you. Write them. If they don't need them, then you can do whatever with them. I'll talk to the higher ups and find out what we need."

I talked to Gunny, First Sergeant and the CO. Each said that Drake had been recommended and it was out of our hands, however, witness statements couldn't hurt. Ryan and I retold the events of that day as best we could remember and submitted them to the Captain Varren, who sent them off with the rest of the packet.

The last month of our deployment dragged by, with our crew being put on unofficial bereavement time. Nobody said anything, but I knew they weren't sending us out because of what happened. I guess that's just the way things go sometimes.

---

The phone rang early in the morning. I was already up and getting ready for work and, judging by the early hour, it could only be one person.

"Hello," I answered.

"Hey beautiful," Andrew said.

"Baby! It's good to hear from you. How've you been?"

"Been better, but things are drawing to a close now."

"When do you go back to the ship?"

"Just got here about two hours ago. We leave in the morning."

"Yay! When do you get back to California?"

"In about a month, I'll call again with the details of our arrival. Bring Carl, Jeanna and Lauren."

"We'll all be there. Have they said anything about your discharge?"

"The Monday after we get back I have to turn in my gear to supply, then I'm a free man."

"Can they call you back again?"

"No fucking way."

---

August 3 was a warm Thursday, the California coast within sight. Tyler, Ryan, Wirth and I stood on the smoke deck, staring at the tantalizing view of home. We had arrived in the late afternoon, the traffic on highway 5 giving it away.

I had turned on my phone for the first time in months, texting Becky to make sure they were in town. We were due to leave in a few hours, the LCAC's taking us close to Pendleton. I was pretty excited, but tried to stay calm. Ryan however, couldn't contain his excitement.

"We're almost home guys!" He said happily.

"I can't wait to get my hands on a burger," Wirth said.

"I'm dying for a drink," Tyler groaned

"Y'all got your priorities wrong," I said. "I can't wait to fuck the hell out of Becky."

Tyler and Ryan laughed, while Wirth looked lost. "Will I get to meet Becky?" Wirth asked.

"If you want," I said. "You can meet the whole dysfunctional group."

"Who else is coming?" Tyler asked.

"Carl, Jeanna and Lauren."

"Who's Lauren?" Wirth asked.

"Ryan's girl," Tyler answered.

"Ryan has a girl? We all figured he was gay." We all laughed at Wirth's joke.

"Anyone coming to meet you Wirth?"

"My parents and my brother."

"Do we know if Drake's parents are coming?" Tyler asked.

We were all silent for a bit. I had invited them, wishing to meet the parents of the man who had saved my life. I hadn't got a response but I hoped they would show up.

"I don't know. I hope so," I said.

---

We had gotten separate rooms at the same hotel in Carlsbad at Andrew's recommendation. Based on what we were told, they would be back by 8:30, but there was no harm in being early.