Title – Three Letters

Author name - Carol

E-mail - writestories315@yahoo.com
Rating – PG

Spoilers - none
Disclaimer – I do not own JAG nor John Michael Montgomery.  However if given the choice….John Michael Montgomery does look damn good in black pants.  But so does David James Elliot.  Decisions…. Decisions… Decisions  (anyone actually read this stuff?)

Summary – Three letters, three men, one feeling

Authors Note's –

1. Borrowing 'Letters From Home' by John Michael Montgomery

2. Yet another un-beta-read piece.  (Okay, I lied about the next one being beta-read…..deal with it.  he-he)

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November 12, 1969

Vietnam – US Marines Station

Dear, Son.

I can't believe it's almost June.  Where has the time gone?    I hope as you read this you're fine.  I worry about you, and I know you know I do.  Well, the weather has been dry, but they say it will rain soon.  Id hear it rains a lot where you are.

Everybody is the same as always here.  Pastor Bill sends prays every week for you and the others boys over there.  We do hope y'all will return home safely. 

You're daddy's just as stubborn as ever.  He's refusing to have the Miller's boy help him with the farm.  He says he can do it on his own.  I swear that man makes a donkey look docile.  He doesn't say it, but I know he sends his love.  Just like me and tell those boys you're stationed with I send my love to them too.

Let's see what else is going on in town.  Danny Morris and Rebecca Claiborne are engaged……

"Hey, Patriot, when are we going to get this bird off the ground?"  Phantom called.

"As soon as I finish my letter," Matt 'Patriot' O'Hare called back to him.

Phantom walked over to his best chopper pilot.  "Letter for your girl?"

Gates laughed.  "Hell, Phantom, we all know the only girl Patriot has is his chopper."

"That girl saved you ass last week, Gates," Matt informed the young machine-gunner.  "And it's a letter from Ma.  She sends her love, y'all."

The group of men laughed at the accent, which slipped from Matt every now and then. 

"Well, I would hate to break up the weekly reading, but we have patrol in fifteen.  Can't let them Navy boys have all the fun in the air," Phantom told the group of men.

The men stood up and picked up their guns.  A few tried to kick the mud off their boots, which didn't help since all of Vietnam was covered in mud and muck.  Matt gave his letter one last look, folded it up, and placed it in his front pocket next to his heart.

"I write Ma' back when we're done with patrol," he said to himself as he picked up his gun and walked to his chopper.

Dear son, it's almost June

I hope this letter catches up with you

And finds you well

It's been dry

But they're callin' for rain

Everything's the same old same

In Johnsonville

Your stubborn old daddy

Ain't said too much

But I'm sure you know

He sends his love


And she goes on...

In a letter from home


I hold it up and show my buddies

Like we ain't scared

And our boots ain't muddy

And they all laugh

Like there's something funny

'Bout the way I talk

When I say, 'Mamma sends her best, ya'll'


I fold it up and put it in my shirt

Pick up my gun and get back to work

And it keeps me drivin' on

Waitin' on letters from home

**********************************

November 12, 1969

Vietnam – USS Ticonderoga

My dearest love,

I miss you so much.  It's almost dawn and I haven't slept a wink all night.  I wonder how and where you are.  God, I worry so much.  This bed is too big for me and I need you here.  I wish you were here, but you are where you are needed more.

Your mother came for a visit and I showed her the ring you sent me from Japan.  She laughed and said you should spend the money on her.  I just laughed with her.  We miss you so.

I had to turn off the news last night when the news man started talking about everything that's going on over in Vietnam.  Little Harm looked at me and asked me why we're there.  I wish I could answer him.  I know why, but how to do I tell that to a six year old. 

He sends his love and wants to know when you're taking him flying again.  Every day he looks more and more like you.  I swear all I did was carry that boy for nine months and three days.  He's all Rabb and nothing like me.  The next one better be like me or I might have to get three kids out of you.

I miss you so much.  Every day feels like an eternity.  XOXOXO those are my kisses and hugs.  Since I can't kiss you in person those will have to do.

Well, maybe I can do a little more….Do you remember that night at your Mom's farm?  We sleep in the barn.  I surprised you by wearing that pink……

"Damn it, Hammer, do you have to read every letter ten times?"  Tom Boone playfully complained to his bunk mate.

"Just for that I'm not reading you the good parts." Harmon 'Hammer' Rabb Sr. smiled.  "Besides it's a new letter.  Didn't you get anything in the mail today?"

"Yeah, cookies from Kelly.  My litter sister is really turning into a good cook."  Tom passed the tin to Harm, who took a cookie.

"Pretty good, better then those brownies from last month." 

"I think we could have used them on those air-assault weapons we encountered last week," Tom joked.  "They were hard enough on our teeth; could have knocked out a few of the bad guys."

Harm laughed. "Yeah, but that might have been against the rules of war.  You know, using illegal weapons."

Tom stood up from his rack and checked his watch.  "True.  We'll we've got two birds to fly in about ten minutes."

"Yeah, let me finish this and I'll join you in the ready room." 

Tom glanced at his friend as Harm's attention was once again drawn into the letter his wife sent him.  "You know you're lucky I let Trish go after you."

"I do owe you for letting me have her."   Harm smiled to his friend as he left the room.

A few minutes later Harm folded up the letter and placed it in his front pocket.  He leaned over his desk and grinned at the picture of his wife and son.  "I love you two and I'll be home soon."  He kissed his finger tips and pressed them against the photo.  He left the room praying he would return and wishing he was able to kiss Trish instead of a photo.

My dearest love, it's almost dawn

I've been lyin' here all night long

Wonderin' where you might be

I saw your mamma

And I showed her the ring

Man on the television

Said something

So I couldn't sleep

But I'll be alright,

I'm just missin' you

And this is me kissin' you

X's and O's in a letter from home


I hold it up and show my buddies

Like we ain't scared

And our boots ain't muddy

And they all laugh

'Cause she calls me honey,

But they take it hard

'Cause I don't read the good parts


I fold it up and put it in my shirt

Pick up my gun and get back to work

And it keeps me drivin' on

Waitin' on letters from home

**********************************

November 12, 1969

Vietnam – US Navy – SEAL Station

Dear Son,


I know I ain't written you, but I'm sitting in the kitchen alone tonight and I realized something.  You are making this family proud.  You being over there and fighting for what you believe in.

I'm proud of you, Son.  And I love you.

-Dad

"Hey, AJ," Travis said getting his buddy's attention.  "You okay, Man?"

AJ handed Travis the letter.  Travis read the letter and handed it back to his young SEAL buddy.  "That's….that's a nice letter, AJ."

"Thanks," AJ responded as he wiped his eyes.  "My Dad's never written me before."

"At least he said the important words."

"Yeah."

Travis looked towards the company CO.  "We got a mission tonight."

"Well, we better go join the others." AJ tucked the letter into his shirt pocket and stood up.  "We got a job to do."

"That we do AJ, that we do," Travis kicked the excess mud off his boots.  Both men picked up their guns and walked to the group of men waiting for them.


Dear son, I know I ain't written

Sittin' here tonight alone in the kitchen

It occurs to me

I might not have said it

So I'll say it now...

'Son, You make me proud'


I hold it up and show my buddies

Like we ain't scared

And our boots ain't muddy

But no one laughs

'Cause there's ain't nothin' funny

When a soldier cries

And I just wipe my eyes


I fold it up and put it in my shirt

Pick up my gun and get back to work

And it keeps me drivin' on

Waitin' on letters from home

THE END