Flowers For A Ghost
Author's note: Wow, it's finally done! I am so sorry for the long wait, but it took me some time to write something I was happy with. This is going to be my last piece for Chucky Griest, and I like how this one sums everything up. If you haven't already done so, I highly recommend reading We Lucky Few and The Light Behind Your Eyes before reading this one. I based the ceremony in this story after several YouTube videos I watched, so I hope this is similar to what would happen in real life. A huge, huge, HUGE thank you to everyone who has read this entire series. I never expected to get this kind of reaction, so thank you all for that. And thanks to everyone who has favourited, followed, and commented- your words really make my day. As I said, this will be the last piece Chucky piece, and probably the last Band of Brothers piece for me, but who knows. I am, however, currently working on something for Divergent. It will be called Fearless, and I hope to have it out during the summer sometime; but, summer is when my jobs really pick up, so I have no exact timetable. I think that is everything. Thank you all for sticking with me, and I hope you all like it. As usual, I take all forms of criticism, and, again, NO DISRESPECT INTENDED.
"We come, not to mourn our dead soldiers, but to praise them"- Francis A. Walker
I was nervous. For someone who dealt with crisis and hysterical people on a daily basis, you'd think it would take more to get me rattled. You'd be wrong. The room smelled of clean linen with the tiniest trace of disinfectant. The spectators sat stiffly in their Sunday best, their eyes downcast. I pulled at the bottom of my blue skirt, wondering if I should have worn the purple one.
"Relax," my husband, James, breathed, grabbing my fiddling fingers. "He's just a man. It's okay."
"I'm not nervous about that," I answered. I opened my mouth to continue when a voice asked us all to stand. Everyone jumped up as if we were in the army. Some of them have been, I thought and glanced at my brother beside me.
"President George W. Bush!" The voice announced as some music played. I looked over my shoulder as the president walked past everyone, wearing a proud yet sombre expression. I approved; this occasion was as happy as it was sad. He took his spot at the front of the room, making eye contact with everyone.
Another man joined him and led us all in prayer. My father raised us with religion, teaching us the words that carried him through all his trials; but, my mom never believed in anything. She never objected to it, but she never bowed her head or closed her eyes during my father's prayers. I lowered my head and nodded to the minister's words; I took after my father. As he was finishing, I peeked at my brother. His eyes were open. The minister blessed the ceremony and welcomed us before we all took a seat. The president took his spot.
"Good afternoon, everyone, and welcome to the White House. A special welcome to Adam Griest, Adrienne Dumont, and to your families." He looked up from his notes and smiled at us. A smile that was weighted but strong. My uncles had that same look. So did my parents.
"We are here today to honour one of our own. Private Henrietta Griest, although, she'd never let you call her that in the field. To her men, she was known as "Chucky". Chucky was a woman who from a young age, was destined for something more. She was a goalie on her local hockey team, and preferred to explore her hometown of Queens instead of knitting or wearing dresses. When her brother was killed fighting for the British Air Force in World War 2, she never hesitated and signed up.
"She proved her worth and joined Easy Company of the 101st Airborne. She showed her grit and spirit and was accepted by her men. During the war, she not only landed on D-Day, she also helped liberate Holland during Operation Market Garden, survived the Battle of the Bulge, rescued the prisoners of the Landsberg Concentration camp, and served as part of the occupation force at the end of the war. She also faced sexism and discrimination by her own men, but she never let it discourage her..."
The president continued, reading from his paper as I looked at my hands. I remembered her face, haunted as she told us of her wartime experiences. I remembered her smile as she laughed and talked about her men, the sparkle in her eyes when she looked at my father, the tremor in her voice when she muttered about Bastogne, and her shaking hand as I caught odd glances at her scarred palm. I glanced over at Adam as we both shared a smile; our mom was a badass.
"Even after the war, Chucky never gave up the fight. She applied to become a New York City police officer, but was denied because of her gender. She ended up joining a woman's rights group and was blackmailed with imprisonment when she threatened to go public with her military career. After her mother's death, she went to Louisiana where she met up with her longtime friend, Corporal Eugene "Doc" Roe. They got married, had two children, and worked in construction. Chucky continued working with a woman's rights group in Louisiana. She was not done fighting.
"In 1967, while Chucky was at the bank, several armed men entered the building and tried to rob it. True to her character, she protected and helped keep some of the children and other hostages calm. She was killed defending those hostages, leaving behind a loving husband, and two beautiful children. Even in death, Chucky's life guided her children as they grew into successful young adults." President Bush paused as he released a shaky breath. I felt my shoulders hunch into my neck as I squeezed my husband's hand, fighting back tears.
"We owe Private Griest a debt we can never repay. Because of her gender, she was never promoted. She was only awarded with a Purple Heart, and a Presidential Unit Citation when she should have been awarded so much more. A wrong we now rectify. I invite her two children, Sergeant Adam Griest of the New Orleans police force and Dr. Adrienne Dumont, to the stage."
I looked to my left where my husband and children smiled, encouraging me onward. Adam took my hand and led me up as his wife and children grinned and waved. I could feel everyone's eyes on me as I tugged at my skirt, praying I wouldn't faint right then and there. I forced myself to glance at the crowd.
My family and Adam's smiled with pride as my eyes scanned over them. There were some higher military officials, some reporters, and my other family. Uncle Guarnere, Buck, Martin, Perconte, Bull, Shifty, Speirs, Babe, and Malarkey. Even Uncle Lipton, who had to get a temporary release from the hospital to attend. Everyone who was left was here with their families, smiling and nodding with pride. Some of their eyes were teary, but they all showed joy. Before the ceremony, Uncle Bull had rolled his eyes and said, "About damn time this happened."
"Because this is a special situation, I invite Private Griest's commanding officer, retired Major Dick Winters, to give this award." President Bush stepped aside as Uncle Winters came to the stage.
His movements were slow from age but full of honour and dignity. His face had grown in the past years while his hair had faded to a pristine white. He was a man that everyone respected, even those who never knew who he was; and, he did everything to deserve it. In all those years, he had never changed.
"Adrienne," he smiled, embracing me tightly as I buried my face into his shoulder. "It's good to see you."
"Likewise." I nodded. Uncle Winters looked at Adam and shook his hand before hugging him and clapping his back.
"Uncle Winters," Adam grinned, "it's been too long." Winters nodded and stood between us as the president continued, "We now have the honour of promoting Private Griest to Staff Sergeant Griest. As Staff Sergeant Griest was denied this rank due to her gender, we only see it fitting that her daughter accept this on her behalf."
The president gave Uncle Winters the patch, smiling and whispering some words to the retired major. Uncle Winters turned and faced me with eyes that were as bright as the stars. He was crying, I noticed.
"Adri," he paused, smiling down at the patch. "Looks like they finally did one right, and gave her another rank. She deserves this. I once gave your mother a sergeant's patch and promised her I would never stop fighting until the army promoted her."
"I know," I nodded. "Mama showed us. She never doubted you, Uncle Winters. Never." I remembered my mother pulling out the patch with the proudest smile. It was the only physical proof that she had done her job well.
Uncle Winters released a breath and pressed the patch into my palm, "I finally kept my word to your mother. My only regret is that she's not here to accept it herself. Or your father. I would give anything for them to be here."
"Me too, but she's always watching us, Uncle Winters. They both are in the stars." I glanced at Adam, knowing we would be on the roof that night, showing Mom and Dad.
"Yes, they are." I hugged Uncle Winters again, unable to hold my tears back.
The president continued, "I also have the honour of awarding Staff Sergeant Griest with the oldest and most prestigious award for military personnel, the Medal of Honour, for her courage, dedication, and valour while facing the enemy, and her own men. Sergeant Adam Griest, please accept this award on behalf of your mother." The president handed a box containing the Medal of Honour to Adam as my brother beamed.
A military man stepped up and began reading the citation slowly while repeating my mother's accomplishments. When the man finished, the president shook my brother's hand before saluting him. Then, he stepped up to me and hugged me before he shook Uncle Winter's hand. The audience all stood and clapped as my eyes went to my loved ones. My husband was beaming as my children, nieces, and nephews all clapped loudly. My uncles were restraining themselves, but I knew all they wanted to do was hoot and shout. I knew that would come later tonight.
The president and Uncle Winters joined Adam and me by our sides as cameras flashed and clicked. Our families continued to clap politely as Uncle Winters placed a gentle arm around my shoulder.
"Your mother deserves this, Adrienne. This and so much more."
I met my brother's eyes as he grinned, holding the Medal of Honour securely in his hands, as if it were a baby. His face was bright and proud while his tear lined eyes sparkled. Looking back at the crowd, I smiled with a nod.
"Oui. Yes, she does."
"Those we love never go away, they walk beside us everyday. Unseen, unheard, but always near. Still loved, still missed, and very dear"- Unknown