I wanted to do a take on Cole's rationale as to why he took the Silver Star anyway even though Kelso argues that he doesn't deserve it. I would like to think that it wasn't just for personal gain; Cole probably had a mental escalation of commitment to his mistaken calculation, and rationalized taking the Silver Star as his own meant that the deaths of the men he commanded weren't in vain; Sugar Loaf was still taken, though not by him personally.
Inspired by "One Cold Day" by Lacuna Coil.
Prompt: Regret
Words: 493
Sugar Loaf was a barrier that separated the Marines from their target. Had it not been for the charge, the war would have stretched on for longer. A sacrifice had to be made.
Cole had despised the possibility of it. His men were human beings, not sheep to be led to the slaughter. So he wasn't lenient, and he demanded all regulations be followed by the book. It kept his men from devolving into a rabble. He wasn't there to make friends, anyway.
Hank grinned at him, slinging his rifle over his shoulder.
A victory would clean his record. Cole threw the butt of his cigarette on the ground, and stomped it roughly out. "Gotta quit smoking these," he mumbled under his breath.
He had known that the field would be different from training, but then, what was training for? He certainly wasn't taught how to deal with seeing his best friend being blown to pieces.
For the lives that were given that day, Cole took the Silver Star. Had he refused the reward, the sacrifice would not have been immortalized.
Yet, when Marie inquired as to its tale, he refused with, "You wouldn't like to hear it."
His reflection displayed to him in a broken mirror, Cole's knee bent, his one hand braced upon the counter. The cash register drawer hung open, and a young lad lay on the floor behind it, his blood splattered on the mirror.
"Cole! Oh, shit…" Ralph threw his free arm over his shoulder as he half-carried him out, the shotgun slipping from Cole's grasp. His foot dragged along the floor as he attempted in vain to keep pace. His blood fell through his fingers to splash on the floor.
"I've got an officer that needs emergency medical attention!" Ralph yelled into the surrounding headlights.
He slipped from Ralph's grasp into the brightness.
Left alone in that foxhole, with no one but himself, Cole pulled the pin on a grenade to throw, but too late. The shell struck, sending Sugar Loaf up in flames. Kelso and Sheldon stood stark against the fire, leering down at him.
Cole, tasting blood in his mouth, widened his eyes, and held out a hand.
The grenade bounced and landed at their feet before exploding, and sending him into darkness, the silence of which was broken only by a nurse's distorted words.
"You sure you're all right?" Marie asked.
Cole gestured to the bandaged side of his chest, now concealed by a shirt. "The doctor said I was fine, so I'll take his word for it."
Marie kneaded the banister in a clear lack of sureness. "Just be more careful. That's twice I almost lost you."
He nodded, and she headed up the stairs.
He glanced at the hall phone, and tugged open the drawer beneath it, searching for the house number Hank had given him on a yellowed paper. The Olsens lived there now.
Cole wondered if the walls could talk.