Reflections
Flashes of bright lights, crashing sounds almost like thunder moving the supposedly solid earth. More thunderous noises that woke him up. He sighed and rose, dressed, and sat on the edge of his bunk. He closed his eyes, hoping to get some calm and balance into his throbbing head. He got up and paced his quarters, in a line, back and forth, back and forth. He was unaware of time, until he heard the faint sounds of morning drill that echoed his own pacing. He went to the small window and stared out, seeing nothing.
The great gaping hole in his memory never stopped bothering him. A chunk of his life was blank. During that time did men die? What did he do? The thunder and crash of explosions he remembered, then nothing until he woke up in a hospital bed. He had gone forward because he had to, his life was dictating it, and his duty dictated it. He had gone forward and put that gap behind him with the self-discipline that the Point ground into him. That, and the fact that he was not a man to feel sorry for himself. Life also was moving at such a fast pace, he didn't have the time to dwell on that gap in his life.
Another unreal part of what had become his present, was his worry and concern for those under his command and care. He was amazed yet again of the loyalty of men who most of society and even the Army considered not worth the bother. One took a risk of losing any hope of freedom by not only escaping guard, but showed up as a barrister to find out what the situation was. All of them were risking any chance of freedom by not only breaking out from their quarters, but making their own investigation. And then they took the biggest risk of all by trying to spirit him away the day before.
That encounter still tore at him. The loyalty of men who most considered to have no loyalties but to each as an individual showed that they could and had bonded as a team. More than that, they showed their loyalty and faith in HIM, as a commander and a man. The look in their faces when he turned their offer down still echoed in his mind. Shock, disbelief, anger, and even the feeling of being betrayed reflected in their faces.
The one certain thing in an uncertain world was his sense of integrity. To turn his back on all he believed in was not an option. He had always been straight with the men under his command, those in his personal life, and the way he walked the path of his life. How could he be on the run, deny who and what he was, and spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder? For him, there was no choice. He wished he could have made the others understand. He understood the lack of trust they had in authority, but he wished for their sakes they would turn themselves in. Surely their record of service might count for something. Yet, as far as they were concerned what seemed to be a certainty of his fate seemed to be more than grossly unfair and unjust.
A clanging of the door broke into his thoughts. He turned and saw the MP standing there. "Sir, you are due in court in an hour," he said almost apologetically.
"Thank you, Sergeant, I'll be ready." He took a breath and put his pride and self-discipline in place. In spite of that maddening memory gap, he had the certainty he was not guilty of what he was charged. That damned gap was a chink in that certainty. He realized that the trip to court might be the last view of the world without bars for some time. He was going to face it though, as a West Point soldier should.
He was still in shock when the verdict and sentence he had expected was turned totally on its head. New evidence that exonerated him! He was half in a haze as his defender smiled and congratulated him. The reality was finally sinking in when his former company commander, the author of his trial approached. Once the truth had come out, the bitterness seemed to have been purged from him. Both men now had been freed from the darkness of that night from eighteen months earlier.
As he took another breath, one of relief and freedom this time, he put on his hat and strode out of the courtroom, tall, strong, proud, and a relaxed stride that reflected his strength and pride. His next stop was to his men, men who had never lost faith in him. In spite of the way they went about trying to free him, he had to admit he could not be prouder of a group of men. They could drive him mad at times, but he wouldn't trade them for a company of elite soldiers. He smiled as he looked up at the mansion staircase. Soon there would be another mission to run, and more surprises from these men. He was almost looking forward to it.