This is simply a one shot. Please remember those who have and are serving in the military. Thank a veteran today, we should never forget or devalue them. Rather than review this story, please take a second to pray for them, and if you're not the praying type, call a veteran and tell them thanks. I bet you know at least one.

Here is a little background information. My sister married a soldier, and I lived with them for a year. Much of what you will read is based on that time.

A little help on terminology: Dress blues are the Marine Corps. Dress uniform.

Corpsman: The medic for the Marines provides medical treatment.

Everyone crowded around into the Benson's new house. Even Gibby had made it from California with his actress girlfriend. On the sofa in front of the TV sat Spencer and his friends, Socko, Tieler, and Hatford watching the Seattle football game. Mrs. Benson zoomed around the house making sure everyone had everything they needed in a perfectly lady like manner. Wendy had come, Germy, Rueben, Pete, and even Shelby had come to Freddie's homecoming party. It had been planned to happen six months later, but an IED had moved up the date. Sam was in the kitchen eyeing the food, Melanie threatening bodily harm if she got near anything. Melanie had been writing Freddie since he left to go overseas. Carly smiled at the memory of Freddie discovering Melanie's existence.

Freddie walked out of the elevator in his Marine dress Blues. Everything was immaculate. Not a wrinkle anywhere, he carried his hat under in his right arm. Melanie had been sitting on the back of the sofa and catcalled when he walked in. He smiled back at her.

"Real funny Sam."

From the kitchen Sam pulled her head out of the refrigerator to see him standing there.

"What's funny Freddilicious?"

Carly thought Freddie's head was going to fall off from the number of times he looked back and forth between the two laughing girls.

Carly was glad to see her father there, standing around with all the other military guys laughing and telling stories of their time in the military. She knew Freddie would be instantly welcomed into their group, most of them being part of the local VFW. Carly walked into the front room to keep an eye out for his car, expecting him back from the doctor's office. She was only too happy to have him back home, as was everyone else. Everyone had received mostly the same letters, wanting to know about things happening at home, trying to keep up with everyone, and never mentioning how things were on his end. She had gotten one phone call from him that she would never forget.

It had gone normally, he got all the information about things happening at home, but what would have normally been halfway through the phone call, she thought she heard explosions in the background, and Freddie ended the call, saying;

"I've got to go, there attacking the housing again, I thought they were done for the day."

After she finally let go of the phone, she lay down in bed, and pulled the comforter over her head to feel safe. It only helped so much as she thought of Freddie holding a gun, getting shot at and shooting back. She didn't sleep well as nightmares of his funeral filled her head.

Carly had stopped watching the news after that. All the news sounded bad. She couldn't convince herself that every time they mentioned a death it wasn't Freddie's body laying somewhere. Only when they said the name did she feel relief, then guilt for being glad someone else had died.

When her mind stopped wandering, she noticed that his car had pulled into the driveway, Freddie just sitting in the driver's seat, only occasionally moving, staring out into space.

Her first instinct was to go out and help him in, but her mind raced to the night before, when her father had wanted to talk to her, Sam, and Spencer.

"When he comes home tomorrow, there are some things I want you to know. First, don't ask if he's killed anyone. If he did, he probably doesn't want to talk about, or relive that moment. No one is proud of taking someone's life, and he won't want to remember it. Second, we might all be happy he's home, but there is a chance he won't be. I've seen plenty of people in his condition cry tears of sadness when they got told they were getting shipped back stateside. He may feel like a failure, that he has abandoned his friends overseas. He'll miss them and what he had there. I can't explain it to anyone who hasn't been there. Third with his injuries, if he wants help, he will ask for it. "

She leaned over and caught Sam's eye. "He's here"

Out in the car, Freddie sat alone; glad to have a moment alone. He'd often thought about that night. Walking point in his unit, he'd caught the brunt of the explosion. A badly aimed rocket to be sure, this one had cost only the life of the shooter. His platoon had acted like they had so many times before on patrol, quickly and effectively. As he tried to get up though, he got his left leg down, and immediately fell to his right when he tried to stand up.

Something is wrong he thought. The corpsman is hovering over me, but I can't hear him. Where is my rifle? Ok, now I can hear him.

Freddie watched as his friend wrapped his bandage around his bloody leg, and waited for the helicopter.

He thought of an earlier occurrence

Freddie stood behind the large machine gun on top of the truck. His weapon at ready, pointed down the road. Most of his platoon was eating their rations on the side of the road. His Sergeant stood beneath him, his Binoculars scanning the road. Quickly he could see a car speeding towards them. Freddie pulled the charging handle on his gun as his Sergeant ordered the car to stop over the PA. Showing no signs of stopping, Freddie fired the massive gun, certain death of hot metal spewing out the barrel leaving only a loud cracking noise behind.

Freddie couldn't remember what happened next. Only his Sergeant screaming at him to stop firing. Freddie picked up the pair of binoculars and looked at the car. A chill ran down his spine when in the car he found the dead and mangled bodies of-

The chill ran down his spine again as Freddie decided he didn't want to think about it. He dreaded going into the house, certain there was a party going on in there. He had several familiar cars on his drive in and assumed they were there to see him.

Readjusting the rearview mirror so he could see himself, he practice smiling a few times, just to be sure it was convincing. He grabbed his crutches from the passenger seat, and headed in to meet the crowd.