Letters

I am deeply sorry for your loss; those words had become a mantra in the General's head. A mantra he had always feared stating on paper or otherwise. It had always been his ease into retirement or so it seemed so having to sit behind his desk and search for what to say to a grieving parent who had just lost their son or daughter wasn't anything on his list. To say he felt awful while writing these letters was an understatement, the men and women at the top minds well rip his heart out every time he had to announce that a loved had perished.

It wasn't always that they had been lost in battle but how. Everyone asked how: how did my son die General, please tell me. He couldn't and it added that much more burden on his heart. Couldn't tell them that they had sacrificed themselves for so many lives in a vast galaxy. No all he could say was that they went out bravely but it was only the truth. It felt almost evil to know that he, General George Hammond, would see these parents one time and probably the only time to tell them that their child had died in the field of battle.

It was a leg up to what he remembered back in his day though. George could still recall all those times his friends hadn't made it home from Vietnam. That it was charged to taxi cab drivers to deliver one single telegram that shattered a person's world. Then back before that his mother used to tell him that every taxi that drove passed their little home in Texas shook the world around her. He was three years old when World War Two ended and never knew a thing. Maybe he could recall all his friends who had lost a parent but he was one of the lucky ones. His father returned to him almost whole, not in a flag covered casket and there was no telegram to mark his passing and heroism.

Nowadays it was more civil, complete with Air Force chaplain and all as they marched up to the doors. Maybe it was easier for the higher ups in the times when mothers and wives got an envelope, that way they didn't have to see that grieved face. Now he donned that dreaded blue uniform and gathered his support before stepping up to the door. In his profession it was the worst assignment detail one could have, the hardest for any general to face. But it wasn't just him writing these letters, the last time it had been Col. O'Neill to tell the mother of a young recruit who had lost his life in his very first mission through the Stargate.

What irked him about it all was the lack of a proper burial considering with the increased security clearance the bodies couldn't be released. It was hard to explain to a family as to why their son or daughter came home in a flag draped casket with an unexplained injury. He couldn't explain even if he wanted to, for the entire world he wanted to but just couldn't. It would be breaking that nondisclosure act set in place by those in Washington who were too blind to see what they went through. That's what they were in his eyes, blind. As blind as they were in the Gulf War and as blind as they were in the Vietnam War. He remembers being sent into battle where the top of the food chain, those big generals and secretaries at the White House, couldn't relate to what they were sending them into.

George could recall one day in the Gulf when he was stationed just outside of Kuwait where he had to explain to a young mother why her eighteen-year-old son just happened to be one of the two people killed in an ambush. But that was a different time when he could reveal what her son was doing the moment he fell in battle. Now all he could say was "he was a brave boy" but nothing else. It wouldn't be exactly fitting for a general of a top-secret facility to give away that a mother's son was killed defending the Stargate against Jaffa forces bowing down to a false god.

Looking down at the expensive paper in front of him complete with that gold seal of approval from the United States Air Force he was at a loss of what to write. Maybe he had done it too many times that he had lost his will to say he was sorry. Was he truly sorry or did he take the guilt? Because George swore the next time some mother, wife, father, or husband looked at him with those eyes of forgiveness he may just lose it. Was he responsible for sitting here behind a desk while sending some of his best and brightest into an uncertain battle? Should he be the one to tell them their loved one is dead when he was just sitting here giving orders? No, he had no right when he wasn't the last one to stand next to that person, as they remained stoic in battle. But then again it wasn't right either to shoulder that burden to another.

While he would wish nothing more than to give this responsibility to a team member George knew it would be unethical. Could Col. O'Neill be the one to write this letter if it were one of his team members? No, George knew he would be too deep in his own grief to think rationally. Come to think about it the last time Dr. Jackson went missing, and was presumed dead, Jack had destroyed his car window in his grief. But then Jack, Sam, and Teal'c were the only family Daniel had so they had to shoulder that burden.

But he was a general it was his duty so that was why he continued to write. I am truly sorry for your loss, your son was honorable and died bravely in the line of duty. Duty, that was one word George was beginning to hate. It had been a word ingrained into him since he was a child as his father explained what honor and duty meant. It was the reason why he enlisted in the Air Force to serve during a time when a whole nation protested. He had a duty to his people, his brave men and women, to his children. Just like they had a similar duty to this country, to this world.

While he had written many like this before this letter had turned out to be a reflection of what he had become. As he looked at his bold writing to a mother he never met George realized he had become more than just a general. He was a surrogate parent saying goodbye to one of his own children. When he began a life lost was painful, but he remained the stoic general he needed to be. He would admit that writing these letters five years, twenty years ago even, he was merely a messenger. Now each word he wrote sealing a death was agony. He felt somehow responsible even if all those under his command would think otherwise. Because he was responsible if he just stood steadfast in that control room ordering his men and women into danger.

While George knew he would be repeating this situation if their recent luck was anything to go by he just prayed it wasn't soon because with each letter he had to write a little piece of his soul was taken with it. Be the man you were meant to be and follow your heart, is what his father always told him. Would he be following his heart by ripping his soul apart piece by piece with every life he sacrificed by sending them into battle? Yes because that's what a general did from behind the lines. He had seen the other side on a different time to rescue SG-1, saw that raw fear they must all overcome to be the brave men and women they had become.

He wondered if his father would be proud of him now with his position or would he question the number of times he had to write this letter. It was part of the job, a tale of honor that came with serving your country. Young men die in the line of duty; it was the circle of life in the American military his father always said. In fact since he had served in WWII George knew his father spoke with a friend one day and buried him the next. It was becoming too much like that here without even a real war. They were fighting a secret war that the good people who these men and women fight for couldn't see their true potential. It wasn't like the Gulf War where every TV ran the same program on CNN but more like Vietnam that went on in front of blind eyes.

He actually wondered at one point what this letter would look like if it were someone even closer to his heart. He didn't dare think if it were a member of SG-1 posted on the top of this letter. To Jack's parents, a grief-filled letter to his good friend Jake, an honorable tribute to be sent back to Chulak, or even a letter describing true bravery delivered to…. Where would he deliver a letter to a man with no family? No, it would be in the name of his team. Those three people who had became Daniel's brothers and sisters. That in itself was terrifying to think of, a letter with nowhere to go. He had one from the past, from a soldier who had no living relatives. A loaner the others on his team had named him but to George he was merely a lost soul who served. So it was one of his long kept secrets, a folded piece of paper in a neat envelope in the bottom drawer of his desk resting next to his Purple Heart.

A letter of condolences, it was the militaries nice term of saying "sorry we sent your child into death". But that's not what he made them the more he wrote. He made them into a written closure to himself to remember a brave soul under his command. He hoped his writing helped those find closure as it had him. Hoped that his words of apology gave peace to a mother or father or spouse that he hoped it would him. He was lucky, or was he, that a letter would not be written in his honor to be given to his daughters. For he stood back behind the line and watched from afar and prayed they made it.

Taking a deep breath George looked once again at the piece of paper. It was time to complete his own personal mission. While not one with perilous danger and near death, it was one that bore more hardship than anything a soldier could do. For this was mission that required no weapon but an aching soul. So putting himself into the shoes of a true soldier he was not a general as he let his pen go to work. Dancing across the page he wore his heart on his sleeve, for he did this for his children.

To the Parents of Sgt. Thomas O'Malley

I regret to inform you that your son Thomas O'Malley has died in the line of duty. I offer my sincere condolences for your loss and wish to extend my sympathies. He was an honorable soldier and perished bravely in battle. If there is anything I can do to make your loss easier I am available. I regret to inform you that the details of his death are classified and I am unable to release his body at this time for burial but want you to know that a memorial is being held in his honor. We honor Sgt. O'Malley and commend him for his bravery. Once again I am sorry for your loss and that Thomas will always be remembered.

Sincerely,

Major General George Hammond

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This is dedicated to all those who serve or have served in the military.