Chapter 345: Sending Garrison Home
Wednesday, February 1st, Afternoon (Central European Time)
(Song lyrics in italics)
The last patrol ended terribly, and they limped back to their base. Standing in the copula, Keith looked over the landscape for one of the few times not through the tank's gun sight. Once they were back and the tanks settled in, they started maintenance. Whatever the crew couldn't do was passed up to the fixers.
Once done, Keith went to his barracks and showered. He washed off the dirt, dust, sweat, and even some of Garrison's blood from his body. Once Keith finished the shower, he returned to his room and collected his laundry. He dressed in a fresh uniform and looked around the room.
As she stood by his bunk, he looked up at the wall, his eyes focused on a picture from last year. Keith smiled as he saw him and Nomi on a tank back home. Nomi was poking out one of the hatches and had his CVC on. Keith sat on the turret next to her. They were all smiles.
His gaze turned to another picture, and Keith smiled. It was a picture of Keith and Izzy on the Outer Banks. In the summer, they were on the beach, walking where the water met the shore, barefoot, their shoes or sandals in hand. They dressed for warm weather, Keith wore shorts and a partially open button-down shirt, and Izzy wore a sundress.
Keith lost his smile as his worry which to be about his family. That was when someone knocked on the door.
"Enter," Keith said.
The door opened, and the New Platoon Sergeant walked in. "How are you doing, Sergeant Scott?" The New Platoon Sergeant asked.
"I'm okay, Sergeant," Keith said.
"We're sending Sergeant Garrison to Landstuhl soon, Tarheel," The New Platoon Sergeant said.
"I heard, Sergeant," Keith said.
"You'll be there, right?" The New Platoon Sergeant asked.
"Yes, Sergeant," Keith said.
"Tarheel, thank you for your time," The New Platoon Sergeant said. Keith looked at him and knew he was the Tank Commander of D14, their wing tank, Draconian.
"You're welcome, Sergeant," Keith said.
The New Platoon Sergeant was about to leave but paused and turned back around. "Sergeant Scott," The New Platoon Sergeant said.
"Yes, Sergeant," Keith said.
"The Company Command and Lieutenant Weller wanted me to remind you not to forget to write to Sergeant Garrison's family," The New Platoon Sergeant said.
"Yes, Sergeant," Keith said.
"Thank you," The New Platoon Sergeant said, and turned back around, and left.
Once The New Platoon Sergeant left, closing the door behind him, Keith took a seat at his desk. He pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen. Lieutenant Weller wanted Keith to write a letter in addition to the letter Lieutenant Weller would send to the family. This was because Keith was friends outside the unit with Garrison. Keith shook his head and took up the pen. Pressing the ballpoint into the paper, he tried to write. All he managed to write was the opening, Dear Mrs. Garrison; after a minute or so, he stared at the paper.
Finally, he dropped the pen. Keith tapped on the desk for what seemed like a few minutes. Sighing, he looked at the near blank piece of paper; three works and a deep black dimple. Shaking his head, he picked up the pen and started tapping the end of the pen on the paper.
Someone else knocked on the door. Keith stood up and faced the door. "Enter," he said.
Letty came through the door and looked at him. "Sergeant," Letty said.
"Letty, you don't have to call me, Sergeant," Keith said.
"It doesn't seem right, Sergeant," Letty said.
Keith looked at her uniform and saw her sham shield, the rank of Specialist, a rank Keith himself once held. They were like a family on the tank, and they tended to call each other by nicknames, usually dropping the rank. "How so?" Keith asked.
"Well, Sergeant, you're the TC now, no longer the gunner, you're the boss, and well, respect, Sergeant," Letty said.
"I don't mind," Keith said.
"Maybe, on the tank, Sergeant, now, not off the tank, Sergeant," Letty said.
"Fine, Letty," Keith said, knowing she wasn't going to let him keep the informality of on the tank off. She was the same way with Garrison. Keith shook his head, the E4 mafia.
"Yes, Sergeant," Letty said.
"So, how can I help you, Letty?" Keith asked.
"Sergeant Shoemaker sent me to make sure you came to the airstrip," Letty said, "Sergeant."
"Why wouldn't I be at the airstrip?" Keith asked.
"I'm doing what Sergeant Shoemaker ordered me to do, Sergeant," Letty said.
"Alright," Keith said, grabbed his shirt, and put it on. Once done, he grabbed his jacket, gloves, cap and left his room. Letty followed behind him. They headed to where the rest of the company, except a few excused for duty, assembled.
They'll lift me up and lay me down
(Lay me down, gently down)
Till I reach consecrated ground
(Along the old Lych Way)
On six strong shoulders I will sway
(Lay me down, gently down)
Till six feet under I'll be laid
(Along the old Lych Way)Requiem aeternam
(Requiem aeternam)
Dona eis requiem
Along the old Lych Way
They took ground transport across the base to where the airstrip is located. Once they got there, they piled out and found a place to line up. Keith found himself near Letty and Palmer.
From Bellever to Lydford town
(Lay me down, gently down)
Through Sandy Ford & Conies Down
(Along the old Lych Way)
At every mile a marking stone
(Lay me down, gently down)
So they can rest their weary bones
(Along the old Lych Way)Requiem aeternam
(Requiem aeternam)
Dona eis requiem
Along the old Lych WayAt Lydford church I'll make my end
(Lay me down, gently down)
And I'll never cross the Dart again
Along the old Lych Way
The C-130J Transport aircraft sat waiting while its engines were kept warm. The rest was a haze to Keith as they loaded up the transfer case of the late Sergeant First Class Jermaine Garrison onto the waiting transport. Garrison would be processed at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center before being sent home first to Dover Air Force Base and then to his family, as was expected. A ride no one wanted to make. Garrison was carried past the company; the company saluted their former comrade-in-arms as he was loaded onto the waiting transport. This was just a start for Garrison's trip home and back to his family.
A Christian man could do no less
(Lay me down, gently down)
Than ask his friends this last request
(Along the old Lych Way)
Oh Requiem aeternam
(Requiem aeternam)
Dona eis requiem
Along the old Lych WayThey'll lift me up and lay me down
(Lay me down, gently down)
Till I reach consecrated ground
Along the old Lych Way
Along the old Lych Way
Along the old Lych Way...
Once he was off, the company returned to their part of the base. Keith wandered over to the tank park and found himself on D13, Damage Plan. Slowly, he walked around and looked at the tank.
After about two laps, he climbed up onto the turret and looked at the commander's hatch. He ran his gloved hand over several gouges in the surface of the tank. He also noted that no matter how hard they washed the tank, he could still see bloodstains in the corners.
Finally, he climbed off the tank and headed out of the tank park. Keith pulled his jacket tighter to his body as he checked his watch and decided to get some chow. Keith headed over to the mess hall and waited in line to get his meal.
He found himself at the basketball court after he ate. Finding a place to sit, he shook his head. Letting out a deep breath, he saw a puff of white steam. Looking past the steam, he looked at the basketball hoop.
It seemed to be a family thing when they needed to think they would go to a basketball court and stare at the hoop. Keith stood up and headed over to his billet. Once in his room, he removed his jacket, cap, and gloves and sat at his desk. His roommate had the duty, so he was alone. Keith was glad he was spared packing up Garrison's things.
Keith stared at the piece of paper and the three simple words he had written on the top line earlier, Dear Mrs. Garrison.
Taking up the pen, again, he pressed the ballpoint into the paper. Keith pressed down so hard he left a deep indentation with a black dot, the second on the page. The words haven't come yet.
Finally, he reached over to his MP3 Player and started to scroll through his thousands of tracks until he found a song that fit his mood. The simple opening with the backtracking of helicopters and lone guitar followed by another soon after, and building to include the drums. Finally, the lyrics hit, and he started to think about them. One lyric hit him hard.
Now that the war is through with me.
Those eight words shook Keith. Yet, he had no time to recover as there was a knock on the door.
Keith paused the song and stood up. "Enter," Keith said.
The First Sergeant entered the room, and they looked at each other.
"Sergeant Scott," The First Sergeant said.
"First Sergeant," Keith said.
"We found this in Sergeant Garrison's things and thought you would like to have it," The First Sergeant said and handed Keith a picture.
Keith took the picture and looked it over. It was from the same trip to the Outer Banks. The photo was taken by Garrison's date when they were at dinner; it was a picture of Keith, Izzy, and Garrison.
"Thank you, First Sergeant," Keith said.
"You're welcome, Sergeant," the First Sergeant said, "How is your letter coming to Mrs. Garrison?"
"Slow, First Sergeant," Keith said.
"It's never easy, Sergeant Scott. It will come, and if you need advice, just ask," The First Sergeant said.
"yes, First Sergeant," Keith said, "and Thank you, First Sergeant."
"You're welcome, Sergeant," The First Sergeant said, "I'll let you get back to your letter."
"Yes, First Sergeant," Keith said.
The First Sergeant left Keith's room. Keith stuck the latest picture up with his others and sat down, returning to staring at the letter.
