Arlington Chapter 1, a sue thomas: fb eye fanfic

Author's Note: Originally posted over the 4th of July Weekend as a 'Short' on SuesCrew. I'm not normally a writer, but this just had to be done. Hope you like it. Please read and review.

An imposing Greek Revival-style plantation house sat atop the hill like a sentry assigned to watch over its charges below. The huge columned portico featured eight massive Doric columns stretching two stories high made the home conspicuous from the city.

Though this house wasn't normally what drew people's attention when they came. Instead, the abundant columns and rows of evenly spaced tombstones commanded their visitor's respect.

Nothing could compare to the experience of coming in person to the most hallowed burial ground of our fallen military. Nothing, that is, except perhaps the burial of one of your closest friends on this sacred ground.

Jack Hudson stood in a crowd of people watching the caisson with the remains of Colonel Joseph Everett as it came closer the 'Old Guard' leading the way. However, he'd never felt more alone.

Joe had been his friend since the first grade back in Wisconsin, always the tough one. Separated only when he chose a military career upon graduation from college, they'd always remained close even as he went off to exotic places as an Air Force pilot. However, now he was gone.

As the chaplain led the way to the graveside, Jack thought back over all the times they'd shared. From the double dates with Allie and Joe's girlfriend, Sasha, in high school to the impromptu basketball games with Bobby, he had many fond memories of his friend.

I can't believe that's all I have now, Jack thought somberly. Memories.

Looking to his left, Jack's eyes locked with Allie knowing she was feeling the same sense of loss he was. They'd been together for so long, people had started calling them the Three Musketeers…though many times they were more like the Three Stooges.

The flag stretched evenly and securely across the casket, the chaplain began his eulogy. Jack had heard it all before…spouting the heroics of the soldier's sacrifice. While funerals averaged 25 a day here, he knew he'd never become accustomed to the somberness of this holy place and its symbolism to the nation's past and present peace.

Oh, Jack knew people die in war…that's the nature of the beast. However, he couldn't help but wonder how many like Joe were cut down in their prime…how many had people they loved still remembering them today…how many had become no more than faded, yellowed photographs that no one ever looked at anymore.

It wasn't fair, Jack groaned silently as his eyes were drawn to a grave marker only a few feet away. Lieutenant James Everett, he read as his mind flashed back to his first visit here almost 20 years ago.

Joe's father had brought them just before graduation. They'd searched all day to find the grave of Joe's grandfather who died in World War II. It had been the second time Joe and his father had come. Only seven when he died, Mr. Everett didn't remember much about his father only that he was a hero. Jack could still recall the words Mr. Everett spoke that cold September day.

Do not stand by my grave and weep…I am not there; I do not sleep.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds circling in flight.
Do not stand by my grave and cry…
I am not there. I did not die.

Jack remembered Joe had told him and Allie of his decision to join the military when they came home from that trip. However, he'd waited until after college, though they'd still been surprised but proud.

A tour in Desert Storm in the early 90's as well as time in Bosnia had them worried but Joe had escaped unscathed both times. However, that wasn't the case for his most recent deployment supporting Operation Iraqi Freedom.

Jack could still remember the call he'd gotten at the office. He'd felt like his world had crash down around him in the seconds after he'd hung up the phone. Not since the aftermath of September 11th had he'd felt anything like it.

Feeling a hand on his arm, Jack looked to his right into the eyes of the woman who had been there for him so much the last couple of days. If he really thought about it, Sue had been in his corner most of the last three years since they'd met. Like Bobby, who sat on her other side, she'd been the family he'd need in DC when he really needed one.

With a brief smile of thanks to his two best friends, Jack turned his attention back to the chaplain as he approached. With all of his musing about the past, he didn't realize that he'd totally missed the service and the playing of 'Taps' by the bugler.

Mrs. Everett had asked Jack to accept the flag on behalf of the family so he took a deep breath, stealing himself for the next few minutes of the service. He knew all eyes would be on him and hoped, for his friend's sake, he could keep his emotions in check.

"On behalf of the President of the United States and a grateful nation, please accept this flag as a token of the honorable and faithful service of your loved one," the distinguished Captain whispered solemnly as he laid the folded flag in Jack's hands.

"Thank you," Jack croaked as he felt the hot tears burn his eyes as he held the soft material to his chest.

As the chaplain moved on the express his condolences to Joe's mother, sister, and other family members present, Jack's eyes locked on the casket. I know this is what you wanted and I will never forget. Thank you, my friend, he declared quietly his fingers digging into the sacred flag.

I never thought that this is where I'd settle down.
I thought I'd die an old man back in my hometown.
They gave me this plot of land,
Me and some other men, for a job well done.

There's a big White House sits on a hill just up the road.
The man inside, he cried the day they brought me home.
They folded up a flag and told my Mom and Dad:
"We're proud of your son."

And I'm proud to be on this peaceful piece of property.
I'm on sacred ground and I'm in the best of company.
I'm thankful for those thankful for the things I've done.
I can rest in peace;
I'm one of the chosen ones:
I made it to Arlington.

I remember Daddy brought me here when I was eight.
We searched all day to find out where my granddad lay.
And when we finally found that cross,
He said: "Son, this is what it cost to keep us free."

Now here I am, a thousand stones away from him.
He recognized me on the first day I came in.
And it gave me a chill when he clicked his heels,
And saluted me.

And everytime I hear twenty-one guns,
I know they brought another hero home to us.

And I'm proud to be on this peaceful piece of property.
I'm on sacred ground and I'm in the best of company.
We're thankful for those thankful for the things we've done.
We can rest in peace;
'Cause we are the chosen ones:
We made it to Arlington.

Yeah, dust to dust,
Don't cry for us:
We made it to Arlington.

Arlington by Jeremy Spillman/Dave Turnbull
Poem by "Royster"