He stood in front of the white flag in the garden of stone, one of thousands. His eyes filled with salty tears as he surveyed the hundreds of coins lying on the top of the white marble. There were a myriad of pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters, each with their own significance. Each a testament to the life of this special soldier, each from a person who'd paid their respects to the fallen. Pennies from those who'd endured the hell of basic training with the honored. Nickels were from those who'd served with this special person at various stations, dimes from those who'd seen combat with this soldier and several quarters. Quarters from those who'd been among the last to see the soldier carry on and was there as they took their last breath for freedom, duty, honor and country. But, it was the half dollars and silver dollars that had brought tears to the old soldier's eyes. They didn't have significance except for those who'd forged the deepest of bonds with this soldier. They had been those who'd known and loved the soldier. Those who'd been touched by the life of this soldier. Those who'd served in the elite group together, forged bonds that couldn't be broken even by death. Those who owed their lives to this person.
Kneeling down, the soldier in his dress uniform, green beret pulled from his head, he placed a silver dollar on the grave. He bent at his waist and placed a kiss on the white marble and began crying like a baby. Standing, he took two steps to his right, the stone's left, to the newly filled grave. The dirt still loose and grassless having only filled the casket the day before, taps playing in the distance as another soldier was put to rest.
"Buddy, we all knew you couldn't live without her. But, you know what, neither can we. Can't you see how much we all loved her, we all loved you. We had hoped you'd soldier on, live like she would've wanted you too. Be there for your beautiful daughter. But, we knew you couldn't do it. She was your life, your love. Dear God, why did you have to follow her? It isn't fair! Little Alison needs you!" The soldier cried. "We need you! It isn't fair, simply isn't fair! But, you know you'd be here if you hadn't taken that chance to save my life, don't you. You couldn't do that, could you? You just had to be the Great American Hero, the Man of Action, didn't you? " The soldier broke down as he felt his own lady's hand rest slightly on his shoulder, reassuringly. He looked up at his beautiful wife holding his best friend's ten year old daughter's hand, the girl he promised he would take care of for his friend, his own daughter clutching her leg. "I promise, I won't let Allie forget either of you!" He knelt down one more time and placed his hand on the handwritten tomb marker and cried. "Damn you!"
"Dash? Honey, it's time to go." Allie said quietly.
Flint nodded as he stood and looked down on the engraved stone and handwritten grave markers marking the final resting places of MSG Conrad S. Hauser and SFC Shana M. O'Hara-Hauser covered with coins.
