Chp. 10: Personal Front

April 9, 1995

Foley AFB

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Hickman,

By now I'm sure you have been informed of John's death during combat operations over Southern Belka. His death was a hard blow to all of us, and being his roommate and one of his best friends I have personally found coping with it to be hard. This leads me to apologize for this letter being nearly a week after John's death, as I haven't been able to find the right words, and I'd never thought I'd have to write someone regarding another's death. John was a good guy, and he had the kind of bravado that we needed despite whatever we'd say about it. I am not sure what the official letter has told you, but I will say that he did in fact die bravely, defending the rest of our flight that day from enemy aircraft. I'm glad that we can at least comfort in the fact that he now resides in a place where the pain and suffering are gone, and where he can fly the skies to his heart's desire, a big smile on his face. I send my deepest condolences to you both.

Sincerely,

Matthew Hall

Matt stared at the computer screen as he stopped typing. This was the eighth draft of the letter, but the first time he'd reached his signature. He reread it twice before deciding it would be best to use this draft. It was short because unlike draft number three he hadn't tried to sugarcoat it. He sent the document to the printer and sighed, rubbing his forehead. Next to the computer the bigger printer let out electric whines and whirs as it produced the letter meant for Johnny's parents. He stood up, logging off the BOQ's public computer (one of four) and took the still warm paper in his hands.

"Fucking Belkans." Was all he could let from his mouth.

Matt turned towards the door with a quick stride. The past days had been emotional peaks and lows for him. No new developments had come in the war since Belka had gone on the run. Ustio was slowly getting back together and the Belkan foothold in Sapin and Osea was being made smaller and smaller. Matt's sorties had been split between close air support and interdiction. He'd flown over Belkan cities by now, hitting rail junctions and weapons depots. He'd even put a Paveway on a train engine as it tried to escape under the chaos. Victories against the BAF had almost completely dropped off with jets like the F-14 and F-15 in on the action. Task Force Sea Dragon had rendered the majority of the Belkan Navy combat ineffective by confining it to Oured Bay and the Futuro Canal or forcing it to stay in remote areas to the north.

Matt returned to his room, which was devoid of Vincent. No one was flying this morning because of the funeral for Johnny just as the day before with Luther, but they would be back on combat status as soon as things were done. Matt hadn't bothered to check the flight schedule yet. Instead he sat down and folded up the letter before walking over to his dress blues and examining them, making sure every part of them looked pristine. He felt the need to look perfect at Johnny's funeral, to show his friend the level of respect he deserved. He was distracted when a knock came from his door, sounded by Major Louis.

"Morning sir, how can I help you?" Matt asked.

"Colonel wants to see you in his office an hour before the service, so soon." He said. Matt nodded his head.

Prince finished fixing his uniform before going from his flight suit to it. From there he left for the squadron building. The structure was empty for the most part, with only enlisted personnel doing their daily work for the most part while the officers had left not soon before the service. He walked down one of the halls until he reached a door with "Col. D. Mackey, CO 245th TFS" on it. Despite the fact he knew what this was about, he was still hesitant to knock.

"Come in." Mackey allowed. Matt entered and stood up straight for his senior, who was also in his dress blues.

"Lieutenant Hall reporting sir." He said as he stood at attention.

"Have a seat, Lieutenant." The Colonel said. Matt nodded and sat down, glancing at the man's desk. Much like the XO, he had models of aircraft he'd once flown on his desk.

"How are you this morning?" Mackey asked as he sat down.

"Not looking forward to having to face Ratpack's parents today, sir. It can't be easy for them to watch their own son be buried." He said. Mackey nodded.

"You do this long enough, and you'll find yourself going to a funeral. I unfortunately had to attend one when I was a new F-4 pilot after my instructor in the back failed to eject." The older man sighed. He glanced at the model of said jet, and then looked back at Matt.

"I've looked at the reports from the flight surgeon on your mental state regarding the death of Captain Barry and Lieutenant Hickman. You seem to be doing better in dealing with their deaths?" Mackey asked. Matt nodded.

"Time has been the biggest healer alongside my friends. I have to get on with life, and especially with the war still going."

"That's the attitude." Mackey smiled and nodded.

"Sir…I was wondering if you'd be willing to answer a question I had…" Mat said after some hesitation. The CO of the Paladins looked at him.

"What's that, Lieutenant?" He asked with a tilt of the head.

"At the risk of sounding like I'm beating myself up too much, should I be feeling guilty about their deaths, sir?" He asked. The colonel tapped a piece of paper near his hand.

"You asked the same thing according to the psych eval, son. If you want my opinion, lieutenant, you're beating yourself up more by looking for the answer to that than accepting he's gone. As much as we like to think it, we can't get everyone back safe. You need to stop thinking just because he was on your wing you led him to his death. The fact that you still mention it but have still been keeping up your efficiency as a pilot shows its slowly eating away at you. If you don't accept that, then you're going to get someone else killed." Mackey said, taking a father's tone. Matt nodded.

"And I hate to sound like Major McDale, but you have to think about the squadron and the war effort as a whole. We need each other." Bloodhound added. Matt tilted his head and took a shot in the dark.

"Are you aware of…?" He asked, trying not to smile too widely.

"I'm not blind, son. I've noticed why too, but every squadron seems to need someone like him. He's not a bad officer, but I can understand why he's called Glory Hound. I've met worse, far worse. So I wouldn't worry; there are worse officers out there." Mackey said. He put the evaluation away and let out a breath.

"Well then, let's get on with giving one of our fellow Paladins a send-off." He said.

"Yes sir." Matt agreed as he stood up to be dismissed…

The weather that day was barely cooperating, Matt thought as they pulled into the cemetery's parking lot amongst the other vehicles. The grass was still a little damp from the drizzle, and the clouds were only punctuated by sporadic patches of blue. Beyond the row of trees that lined the lot, there was a group of people, some holding flags and others in possession of pristinely conditioned M14 rifles for the ceremony. The pilot and WSO donned their hats left Henry's Ford and walked towards the gathering group near the spot for Johnny's burial.

"No matter how much they're gonna try and cushion the blow, I still a, gonna have to force myself through this." Henry commented. Matt nodded with a grunt.

"He's gone and I've gotta stop saying I've let him go when I haven't, cause I still blame myself. Same with Luther." The pilot agreed. It was more a vocalized thought than agreement, but Henry said nothing either way.

Matt spotted Johnny's parents, Holly and Gabriel, amongst the uniforms. He approached them with a consoling smile. The two had come from Southwest Osea to attend and to respect Johnny's wish to be buried at Foley (something he'd changed in his will when the war had first started) so he could be a member of the 245th Tactical Fighter Squadron even in the afterlife.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Hickman." He said.

"Hello Matt." Holly sniffed, trying to smile. Her husband nodded as well, and Matt produced the folded up piece of paper.

"This is from me; my deepest condolences." He said softly. Holly took it and gently slid the letter into her purse.

"My condolences as well, Mr. and Mrs. Hickman." Henry added.

They walked back towards the group of Air Force personnel. Valentina approached them with a small smile.

"Good morning you two." She offered.

"Hey Val."

"Morning Valentina."

She looked around, trying to find something to talk about. She looked up at the sky.

"Think maybe God's trying to give us a proper mood of sobriety?" She asked. Matt and Henry looked up as well.

"Maybe, he works in mysterious ways." Matt said. Since his work to rebuild his faith, he was definitely thinking about that kind of thing more often. God, sitting high above them all, watching as they lived their lives, dealt with their struggles and worried about things that could not even make Him blink.

The three chatted only a short time more before the service was organized and starting. Everyone was seated until the casket carrying the body of Johnny arrived, at which point they all stood in reverence. The Pallbearers, members of Johnny's ground crew, carefully brought the casket onto the lift that would take it into the grave. Colonel Mackey stood up to give the young man who'd served under him a final farewell, Father Ruth next to him.

"Today, we've come to pay our last respects to Second Lieutenant Johnathan D. Hickman, who paid the ultimate price in service to his country as a proud member of the Osean Air Force." Mackey began. He looked at the faces, then the casket draped with an Osean flag.

"Lieutenant Hickman could always be described as a bold pilot. He was always ready to charge in and take on obstacles. He tried, twice, to be accepted into the academy, and despite graduating in the lower quartile of his class academically, he achieved a slot for fighter pilot training, earning his wings in late 1993. He proved an aggressive pilot, and when the threat of war came, he did not bat an eye in fear, rather accepting the looming threat and putting aside his fear to fulfill his duty." The man said.

"He never had high goals, only wishing to serve and fly. He was liked by the squadron, seen as the bravado it needed in peace and war. His taste for rock music, as well as his style, earned him the name "Ratpack", and he wore it proudly. With him, morale always felt like it was that much stronger, and Lieutenant Hickman could always be expected to crack a smile." Mackey said, a faint smile crossing his face. Now came the hard part.

"On the night of April 2, 1995, he was part of a mission to dismantle the Belkan Air Force's bomber force. As the strike aircraft, him included, were exiting the target area, they came under the threat of Belkan aircraft. Lieutenant Hickman, along with his Weapon Systems Officer, Captain Luther Barry, joined Lieutenants Matthew Hall and Henry Collins in defending their fellow pilots from enemy attack. Their actions prevented the Belkan aircraft from getting through and possibly claiming their more vulnerable aircraft. It is because of this, that Lieutenant Hickman will not only be buried as a Captain, but in addition to his posthumous two-rank promotion will be awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross."

Without thinking, Matt glanced at Henry, then Phantom. She took no note of his quick glance, betraying nothing more than an emotionless mask of reverence as their commander spoke.

"Father Ruth will now part us from Lieutenant Hickman with a few words." Colonel Mackey said, stepping aside. Ruth came forward and cleared his throat.

"Today, we see the passing of Johnathan Hickman from this world, where suffering and sorrow often plague us without respite, to a world of eternal peace and freedom from suffering. Now we can entrust his soul to our God in Heaven as he is finally taken home. But no matter the pain, we can rest assured that he is in a better place. We bid thee farewell, Johnathan." He said in a gentle tone.

The detail lifted the flag above the casket, holding it taut, and began to fold it. At the same time the band nearby began to play the Osean National Anthem, using the slower version that was played at funerals. Though he kept silent, Matt could hear the words playing in his brain.

O'er golden mountains may the eagle spread its wings

Freedom and equality by its sides

For from this stand it sees greatest land

With wonder and beauty divine

From the waters ever flowing to the forests of green

So hand in hand we will defend our land

Our liberty and our way of life

And never shall we fall to our knees

So long as we keep up the fight

The folded was concluded in conjunction with the end of the song. One of the enlisted personnel took the flag to his breast while the pallbearers lifted the casket to lower it into the grave. One he was in the ground, the rifle detail swung into action. The Sergeant leading them called for them to pull back the bolts on their M14s. The seven riflemen brought their weapons up from the ground and on command pointed the barrels up at a 45-degree angle. Matt heard the lead call for them to fire. Each shot echoed deeply, solemnly, as it indicated his friend Johnathan was now truly gone.

Bang...Bang...Bang…

Colonel Mackey approached Johnny's parents, flag in hand, and turned it over to them.

"On behalf of a grateful nation, our deepest condolences. He was a very brave man." Bloodhound said. Holly nodded with a sad smile, and Matt buried his tears as he felt her pain stinging him…

Matt pushed open the door of The Beagle's Nest with a sigh. He had just landed from another CAS hop about an hour and a half ago that had been particularly grueling. The Belkans had managed to create a little piece of Osea to hold onto called the "Haleyville Pocket". Named after the border city it was centered on, the Belkan forces there were making sure the fighting was house-to-house every step. This often meant buildings had to be destroyed to force the Belkans, confirmed to be of the elite 2nd Fallschirmjägers, back. He was hungry, tired, and it was the first night after Johnny's funeral that he was here.

The pilot looked around at the scene, looking for a seat. Tonight was one of the nights that the officers were allowed to wear casual garb, resulting in a surprising lack of olive green. Matt himself had on khaki pants and a blue polo shirt. He walked towards the bar and found an open spot. The bartender approached him and he requested a Blue Valley Ale. He took a slug of the brew before standing up and walking to the jukebox. Knowing prior what he wanted, Prince scrolled through the selection until he found "Satch Boogie" by Joe Satriani. He tapped the buttons to select it and watched as the CD was taken by a little mechanical claw and gently put in place. Valentina approached, drink in hand, and blinked as she saw the CD.

"You putting on a rock song…now there's a change that's got me concerned." She said.

"It was Johnny's favorite song." He explained as the music started up. The brunette frowned.

"Are you still blaming yourself?"

"No Val, I'm just honoring him."

The two both took a drink before turning away from the machine. Matt began to move towards the bar, but Valentina grabbed his sleeve.

"I've got a table Matt. Come on, let's drink and eat like friends should." She insisted. He considered the offer a minute, and then nodded.

Her table was across from the bar, just a little out of the way. She had her drink, a simple bottle of beer, sitting next to the O'Club's menu. Matt ordered a roast beef sandwich and chips while Valentina opted for a bread bowl. The two sat there in silence a minute before any words were spoken.

"How are you, Matt? Are you still able to fly with confidence?" She asked.

"I'm better, and I can still fly especially with Marshall in the backseat. How have you been, more importantly?" Matt said between drinks.

"I'm getting along. Now it's almost weird thinking about peacetime when we've been flying so many hops. I think I'm getting better too, maybe even good enough to shoot down a bandit or two." She replied.

He let out a "hmmm" and glanced over her. She was wearing earrings for once and a conservative black party dress, though it still hugged her figure just a little. For once in his time knowing her, Matt glanced at Valentina's figure. In more casual attire, it was far more visible than a flight suit, which hid anyone's build except for Moose's big frame. Valentina knew he was looking, but she didn't care. In fact she kind of liked it, and if certain circumstances weren't already in place she would've been more inclined to flirt with him.

"What? Surprised I actually have a chest?" She asked instead.

"Why are you all dressed up? Not like you can really get together with any of these guys anyways." Matt replied, reminding her of how the Osean Air Force generally felt about its personnel hooking up.

"Maybe you should find someone special. It's a good way to deal with things like war. There has to be a poor, lonely girl out here who needs a man." Baroness reasoned. Matt shook his head.

"Meh, the war's had me too preoccupied to chase tail. I haven't had a serious fling since college." He shrugged. Valentina took a random turn from her originally intended path.

"Was she hot?"

"She was Sapin. Tan skin, thick accent, and long black hair. Yeah, she was hot."

"Did you keep in contact with her?"

"Nah, that's not my style. She ran off with some guy who played guitar and wrote poetry when I got serious about the Air Force. But that's all the details I'm divulging."

"Aww, you're no fun, Matt."

"Hey, you haven't told me jack or shit about your love life."

"…Touché. I've dated two guys, and I made out with one of their girlfriends once."

Matt nearly spit his drink in her face as she maintained a poker face.

"You did WHAT now?" He said a little loudly. Valentina threw back her head and laughed.

"That's called me screwing with your brain and cheering you up. You need a good dose of shock-humor therapy." She winked.

"Thanks Val, you're a real friend." Matt said with a tone of sarcasm.

"Oh come on Matt, don't be a killjoy." She insisted. He smiled.

"It's not a killjoy if you aren't being serious." He finally smirked. She shook her head, while he kept up the smile. At the same time, he couldn't help but draw a few similarities between this and a date. It didn't cause any squirms in his gut; in fact it felt somewhat right. Heck, maybe she was the poor, lonely girl who needed a man…

A/N: So not much to say about this story since it focuses more on people and emotion than fighting. I thought it was gonna take a bit longer to create the Osean national anthem, but it eventually just came together and I'm satisfied enough with the end result. Despite the fact that I often stick with the US Armed Forces when going with Osean military protocol, I only loosely used the former's conduct for burials. Other than that I decided to move forward things between Val and Matt (if you hadn't already noticed they were a bit closer than the other flyers).