Stormwatch - A Rest for the Heart

"The hotel is free too?" Josh was astonished, how was such a thing possible?

"Uh-huh," Veronica nodded, "totally free, as I said, I got points! Whenever I had to fly anywhere for a photo shoot or a business trip, I made sure I flew the same airline so I could accumulate points, same with hotel and rental cars."

"Car too?"

"Wait until you see what I arranged, you're going to love it," grinned Veronica, then her smile disappeared when she saw Josh trying to fight back tears.

The roller coaster of emotional swings hammered at Josh with an intensity he couldn't believe. He remembered when he was taken off flight status, he felt castrated, but relieved at the same time that there would be nothing to fear ever again. When he was told he would be getting a medical discharge and be sent away early his entire world was torn out from under him, but he was sure that there was no lower than he could ever feel.

He spent the following years feeling nothing, spending what passed for affection on his cabin, his forest, and his job. Then he got that offer from Andalon and met Veronica emotions came back into his life. Mostly it was good, but that night at Worzils where he nearly ruined everything and almost broke up with Veronica was the beginning of a roller coaster that is starting to get out of hand. The relief that this vacation would not be putting him in the poor house came flooding in with such an intensity that he suddenly became nauseous. He suddenly realized that Veronica was shaking him, "Talk to me, it's the only thing that helps."

"I can't, it's silly..."

"It's emotions," said Veronica, "emotions are silly, we can't control them other than talking about how silly they are." She kept forcing him to look her in the eye by nudging his chin, "is it because we're flying?"

Josh thought about it, that could only be it, he's only flown a few times since that night over Buttfuckistan when his whole world changed. Most of the time he got on a plane only because he was drunk enough to drown the memories of his biggest failure... "Yes," he said in a small voice. "I don't understand it, everything is coming at me so hard. I should be happy and grateful that you used your points for everything, I was scared, then I was so suddenly so relieved, and it was so sudden and strong that I couldn't handle it..."

"Effi, look at me, I know the feeling exactly," Veronica's beautiful eyes drilled into his, "I was a young model doing swimwear shoots and I missed a period, and I was terrified of being pregnant, I would have to end it if I wanted to keep modeling, but then I'd see those moms and their kids in the park and they were so beautiful to watch so I didn't know how I could make that decision. I couldn't sleep, I didn't eat, and I almost lost some jobs because I wasn't taking care of myself. When I got my period, I was so relieved I just wanted to laugh, but I'd remember seeing those babies in the park and I wanted to cry because I wasn't going to have one..." She took a deep shaking breath, "You're not alone, and I need you to know that I'm here for you."

Those words were a raft to clutch in a flood, a pillar to lean on in a whirlwind, a roof to shelter under from the rain. The subtle joy of finding a fellow sufferer, the love he always dreamed of finding. They sat, leaning over in their chairs, their foreheads touching, whispering softly. "Do you still want a baby?" he asked.

A sudden thrill ran through her, someone to raise a child with! She saw the hell her father went through to be a single parent, giving up promotions to be able to be home when his girls get back from school, turning down higher paying shifts so he could be home for them. Now that she has a job where her boss will give her the freedom to have a baby, and maybe even help her adopt if it comes to that, and now she has a love, a father to that baby, the equation is complete. "If we start now, we may have a Valentine's baby," whispered Josh.

"Is that what you want to do?" she asked.

"With you? More than anything." Josh swallowed and said, "when we get back, I'll ask Macy for a referral, and I will get my head fixed." Macy was a friend and a psychiatrist but being friends, she couldn't treat him so he planned to ask her for help in finding another doctor who could see him.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

As their noses touched and they gazed into each other's eyes like school kids he said, "for you, anything. For us, everything."

Her heart soared, how was she so blessed to find a man like this? She took a deep breath and asked a question she never thought she'd ever ask someone: "Have you ever had a shower in an airport?"

"Kind of," he smiled.

~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~

Josh studied the shift turnover book and verified that all fliers were loaded and armed, there was a bird that was headed into the phase inspection hanger. He saw that the missile launchers, weapons pylons and all ammo was removed from that F-16, and all work orders were closed out. He looked up and saw the two mid-shift load teams looking at him expectantly. "Tools and carts turned in?" No one on the entire off going shift leaves until every tool is turned in and every cart is accounted for. A cart is an explosive device about the size of a shotgun shell that when set off inside the bomb rack the gases it produces opens the rack hooks and an ejector piston shoves the bomb or fuel tank away. The weapons crews carry around a box that contains a set quantity of carts needed for flying F-16s and the crews will return to storage every cart that is not used.

"Yes, and Gold Seven has been cleaned out," said Rasheed Daniels, the senior team chief on Mid Shift who eyed Josh's choice of uniform with suspicion. "What's with the blues? I thought you worked for a living."

Josh was wearing a lightweight office uniform, light blue shirt, dark blue pants, low quarter shoes and a dark blue tie. His shirt was only decorated with his name tag, one ribbon, and a single badge. "Hell, if I know, the leff-tennit said to wear blue, I wear blue. Ok, head on out, and thanks for making this a great year guys."

Staff Sergeant Potts, the junior of the two team chiefs held out his hand, "No, thank you, Josh. It's been an honor."

Josh stood and shook hands with each member of the two teams and joked with them a little bit until Senior Master Sergeant Sammy Johns stuck his head in the office door, "Gee mister, I hate to break up this love fest but Sergeant Gravely, would you mind wiping the lipstick prints off your ass and get the hell out here? Day shift would like your words of wisdom before we start launching."

Josh looked up at the clock, first launch was scheduled for 9:15 AM, the current time was 6:58, he had fifteen minutes to get his folks out on the flight line to cover launches, it's time for Role Call for the day shift. Josh grabbed his clipboard and shook hands one more time with his third shift crews, then followed them out into the common area. Sgt Johns handed the big green briefing book to Josh and said, "It's your turn today, last chance to get it right."

Josh chuckled, "You're a fuck, you know that?"

Sammy blew him a kiss and said, "You're going to miss that too." The two sergeants bumped fists and Josh headed out to the day room, the wide-open area where the bomb loaders, mechanics, and crew chiefs waited for their work assignments at the start of the shift and completed their paperwork at the end of the shift.

Shaking his head and chuckling Josh stepped up to the front of the room and yelled, "Gold weapons! Line up for roll call!" Rather than straggle into formation, the weapons troops lined up quickly in team order, team chiefs at the head of the line, their number two man behind them, and the number three man at the end of the line. Luckily there were only two load crews that were missing a "body," and both were on sick call.

Josh gave the mandatory daily safety briefing, read out the training that was due, and then made an announcement, "there is a big push today, little rocket man lit off another bottle rocket so we're going to show him that the southern end of this peninsula is ready to play. We're going to fly 12, turn 10, turn 6, turn 2. The first go is at oh nine one five. The thirty-fifth is going to match us in fliers, so that's sixty missions outta the Kun on short notice. That's a lot of work, but we're up for it, you guys have shown us that you're more than capable to do whatever it takes to complete the mission."

He started to choke up a bit then said, "I want to thank you all for your hard work, it's been a busy, back-breaking year and you guys stepped up and you did the job right. I know it's tempting to say, "Screw it, I'm only here one year," but you did the job right, the first time, every time. I know you still have a few more months before you head back stateside, but as for me," he looked around then grinned and shouted at the top of his lungs, "SHORT!" Traditionally an airman overseas will yell "FIGMO!" (fuck it, got my orders) when he gets his assignment to his next base, and he yells "SHORT" when his tour of duty is over, "short" meaning he'll be stateside in a short period of time.

The entire weapons flight responded in the age-old traditional retort to the cry of short, "Shut the fuck up!"

With that, he handed the briefing over to Technical Sergeant Skip Humphries, his lead expeditor. There were two expeditors that ran the weapons activities on the flight line, each one oversaw half of the airplanes in the squadron and each expediter would have half of the available load crews to perform whatever work needed to be done. They were going to fly 12 of their 18 planes, after that mission they were going to fly 10, then 6, then 2 for a total of 30 sorties. This was a big push for the squadron, but they could manage it, the planes were in good shape and Josh was adamant about the load teams being able to respond to any weapons-related contingencies. He stepped back and as he listened to the expeditors brief their crews Second Lieutenant Kenosha, wearing his dress blues, stepped up to Josh and said, "You're only wearing one ribbon Sergeant Gravely?"

Josh looked at the lieutenant like he just stepped on something smelly. The lieutenant didn't make his remark quietly, in fact he was speaking in a normal tone of voice which interrupted Skip's maintenance briefing. Very quietly Josh said, "Air Force Suggestion 36-2903 clearly states that some, none, or all ribbons, and up to four badges can be worn on my service uniform. What is the problem Second Lieutenant Kenosha?"

Josh was wearing his small arms marksmanship ribbon awarded for scoring marksman on the M-16 rifle and his Aircraft Maintenance badge. His uniform was neat and orderly, badge, ribbon and name tag aligned properly, tie straight and clipped. He looked at the Lieutenant's four ribbons and his aircraft maintenance badge. A maintenance badge on a second lieutenant? This has to be a joke. One of Josh's airmen weaseled his way into a half day off by telling Lieutenant Kenosha that he had to take the hammer from his tool kit to equipment maintenance for sharpening and ended up having a leisurely hot lunch at the Rec Center.

"I sent a directive stating that you were to wear your dress blues sergeant." Lieutenant Kenosha spoke loud enough to be heard throughout the building and said "sergeant" with enough disdain to piss off every enlisted man and woman in the weapons flight. The briefing came to a halt and they all stared at the lieutenant in shock, Josh was their man; his dedication to the mission and the men and women under his direction whipped this unit into warfighting capability. No one talks to MSgt Gravely like that.

Josh pulled an email he printed from the binder he was holding, "Maybe you should send another 'directive' requesting an editor lieutenant. There was nothing in this email that mentions which set of blues to wear, it just said "service uniform" which is exactly what I am wearing now, it says nothing about the "Dress Service Uniform." He handed Lt. Kenosha the email then turned on his heel and stepped into the weapons flight office.

Lt. Kenosha followed right behind Josh into the office but when he stepped into the office Josh was waiting. He was pulling on his blouse, the ribbon, and badge-covered jacket that would stun Veronica in a few years. There was no way in his young life that Lt Kenosha could have picked a worse day to flex his puny little "butter bar." Josh just said goodbye to the greatest men and women in the military and now he was being sent off to oblivion; he was not happy. Josh whirled on the lieutenant and pointed an angry finger at him, the finger was just inches from the lieutenant's face. "If you ever speak to me like that in front of my men ever again, for any reason at all, I will knock your stupid ass out. You never speak to a subordinate like that in front of his co-workers, officer or enlisted, and if I ever hear that you did for the weeks remaining of your career, I will hunt your ass down and I will Fuck You Up. Do you copy lieutenant?"

"Sergeant, what gives you the right to..."

"This does," and Josh pointed to a ribbon on his blues jacket, a purple ribbon trimmed with white at each end with a bronze oak leaf showing that Josh has received two purple heart medals for being injured while in combat with enemy forces. "This gives me the right to prevent every man and woman in that day room from ever having to wear one, and if that means protecting them from arrogant, incompetent buffoons like you, then so be it. Now go cry to daddy that you just got spanked..."

Lieutenant looked at Josh in shock, no one had ever spoken to him like that in his entire privileged life. When he didn't move, Josh continued, "Git the fuck outta here, go tell Colonel Getz what I just said, I fucking dare you."

Lieutenant Kenosha opened his mouth to speak, but Josh treated him like a stubborn little boy. "Git the fuck out of my office! Go!" The lieutenant whirled and left bristling in anger. Josh just shook his head and turned to a mirror on the wall and adjusted his tie. He heard the door open and close, and he heard a familiar voice say, "Honest to God Josh, would you please leave my poor stupid lieutenants alone?"

Without turning, Josh said, "I'm sorry that you had to hear that sir."

"I heard every word, and so did all of your bomb loaders. You know, you scorched the few hairs that boy had on his ass, and if this wasn't your last day, I'd have to fry you."

"Good, at least I'm leaving a good impression when I go. Maybe he learned something." Josh turned around to see Lieutenant Colonel Raleigh, the squadron commander of the 80th Fighter Squadron in his dress blues leaning against the door.

"Damn son! You clean up nice." Colonel Raleigh was a southern boy like Josh, he hailed from the "ass-end of Alabama." Josh was his weapons guy, he learned after dozens of combat missions over deserts best forgotten that you don't piss off the weapons guys if you want to fight a war properly. He saw the wings on that bomb loader's uniform and that could only mean one thing - Josh was a gunship crew member. "Damn it Gravely, why did you have to go and bust yourself up so bad? I could have used you for another tour."

Here in the 8th Fighter wing, the tour of duty was one year, and Josh was lucky to make it the full year, after a medical board in some hidden office building reviewed his records, they voted him "off the island." As soon as his tour in Korea was over, so was his tour in the USAF. His orders to Barksdale AFB where he wanted to get back on B-52s, were canceled and he was being sent to Moody AFB in Valdosta Georgia for out processing.

"I think Lieutenant Kenosha had ribbon envy," said Josh tapping his rows of ribbons. "When he saw my rack, his eyes bugged out like a cartoon."

"You do have a nice rack airman," grinned LTC Raleigh. He said it in a way that intentionally sounded dirty. The rack they are talking about is the device that holds the ribbons in nice, neat rows on the uniform. "Got any more you're not showing?" In answer, Josh pulled two more rows of ribbons out of his pocket. These were ribbons earned on classified missions that he wasn't allowed to display. "Damn," muttered LTC Raleigh, "I'm flying the wrong airplane." By nature, fighter jocks are glory hounds, as well as they should be, but they never consider a plane as big and slow as a C-130 to be some kind of war machine. But if you slap a half dozen guns on it and you now have a flying artillery piece that just attracts trouble. And ribbons.

SMSgt Sammy Johns knocked on the door and announced, "the commander is here." Sammy was also impressed by the rows of ribbons on Josh's uniform. By commander, Sammy meant Colonel Getz, the wing commander, the guy who ran the entire show on the entire base: both fighter squadrons and all support units.

Josh stepped out of the office along with Lieutenant Colonel Raleigh and walked over to where the men and woman of the weapons load shop were still formed up, but the room was getting full now. All the specialists were there, these are the folks who did specialized work on the planes like instruments and radar, as were many crew chiefs who weren't actively getting the first 12 off the ground. Even pilots who were not involved in the first launch were there, and all were shocked at seeing the number of ribbons that Josh was wearing. One pilot, a friend of Josh's came up close to see what a purple heart looked like on a man that was still living. The name tag on his flight suit showed that his call sign was Screwball, and the young captain lived up to that call sign.

There was a ceremony where Colonel Getz called Josh a member of the "Ghost Riders" and spoke of the fact that the Air Force gunships were named for types of ghosts since the days when a pre-WWII vintage C-47 Dakota cargo plane was fitted with four small Gatling guns and some leftover parts from an F-4 Phantom to help with aiming and the gunship Spooky was born and became a terror in the night skies over South Vietnam. Josh was handed a plaque for his year as the Assistant NCOIC (Non-Commissioned Officer in Charge) of the Weapons Flight, a plaque for his years of service in the USAF, and one from the gang, the sergeants and airmen of the weapon's flight who he coached and guided to an Outstanding Weapons Flight PACAF award for the first time in decades. They nicknamed Josh The Shadow because he would show up on the flight line to inspect his troops and the airplanes, he always popped up out of nowhere. He always briefed them after they were done working, always congratulating for a job well done and urging those who fell short to do better.

Then Colonel Getz hung a Meritorious Service Medal for his eighteen years of service on Josh's uniform, and it was over. As he was in the office changing out of his blues into his camouflage uniform Sammy came in and said, "I'm sorry it ended like this, Josh, it's not like you're 80 pounds overweight and can't jog a dozen yards."

Josh shrugged; he knew it was over shortly after he got to Kunsan. He was diverted here due to a manning shortage and reenlisted to take the assignment, and he fell in love with the place at once. He requested a follow-on assignment to remain in Korea for a second year immediately and the request was approved, then placed on hold, then a week later denied. Then he requested a follow-on assignment to Barksdale AFB in Louisiana and it was approved, then placed on hold, then denied. He was called up to Osan AB near Seoul and given a medical examination, then a month later was told by Colonel Getz the bad news, he was going home.