I never could say no to the kid.
That's probably not a good trait in someone who is supposed to be the military oversight in a DOD funded project. But then again, the nozzles in the military don't have the first idea of the sacrifices that have been made for the Project.
I'm not talking about the all-nighters living in the desert in the middle of nowhere New Mexico, although there were plenty of those and quite frankly, the amenities of the nearest town are pretty lacking. What they never saw were the pictures that sat on the kid's desk—his brother Tom, his father and mother, half a picture of his sister Katie, the other side carefully excised away. They never saw the sad drooping of Sam's smile during those times when he stares into the middle distance as he's trying to think of the solution to a problem. They never saw the way that Sam slips away on his own every eighth of April with a bottle of scotch.
That's why when the kid leapt back to Vietnam, in his brother's own unit, the day before he died, I swore I'd do whatever I had to to make sure Tom lived to see April ninth.
When Ziggy showed me the mission that had to fail in order for Tom to live, I admit that it gave me a moment of selfish pause.
But like I said, I never could say no to the kid.
I guided him through the jungle to the place where Tom would be ambushed, and showed him how to save Tom's life. Instead of me and the other POWs being saved then, I stayed there for years more, endured years more of torment and pain before I was repatriated.
I can't help but think that if my release hadn't been delayed, would Beth still have been waiting for me, instead of remarrying?
Still, I'd do it all the same again—technically, I did—to keep the kid from feeling the guilt and grief of losing his family. Tom's survival created a cascade that radically changed Sam's family. His father retired when his heart problems began, leaving Tom to run the farm. Katie grew up with her brother and father watching out for her, and didn't fall into the abusive relationship that eventually became her failed marriage.
Sam still felt the drive to go through MIT, through seven doctorates, still won a Nobel prize, but now he did it with a desire to improve the world for everyone else.
I debated letting Sam see Maggie's last photo. I didn't want to give him a new ration of guilt; I made the decision on my own to sacrifice my freedom for Tom's life and Sam's happiness. I just wish I been able to tell myself all those years ago what would be waiting when I went home.
Because even if I'd wanted to say no to the kid, seeing him smile more easily and more often, watching his face light up when he talked about his family instead of shutting down in pain, was worth all the suffering I endured.
