Chapter 15

[November 11th, 2021]

Our food is finished cooking very quickly and they gave us a military discount since we're active duty. I and Brandon sit around a three-person round table just outside of the restaurant and begin to eat. The food is good, it's hot and has an almost bittersweet taste. as we're eating another man in a uniform similar to ours sits beside us. The difference? He has a lance corporal insignia on his uniform instead of a private insignia. "Good afternoon, you don't mind if I sit here do you?" I look up to him and simply nod. He sits down with some food and begins to speak. "So, when did you guys enter the service?" I swallow a mouthful of food and respond. "We just finished our AIT about a week ago." "Ah, I enlisted about 3 years ago." "So, you have some experience, huh?" "Not really. This is only my second tour overseas. I got a field promotion when I got nicked in the leg by a 5.45 while applying first aid to my buddy. I somehow qualified for a purple heart and bronze star because of it. I didn't even notice that I was hit until I got finished with my buddy." I and Brandon both stare at him, dumbfounded. "No offense, but that doesn't seem like something that should be rewarded with the fourth-highest military honor." "That's exactly what I thought too, of course, I still accepted it." He chuckles. "I mean, I'm sure I and Brandon could do that." I see him get a serious look on his face. "No, combat isn't what you think it's like. You will lose friends, you will not be able to just shoot a haji like a paper target downrange, and you will be haunted by many things." He finishes his meal in record time and stands up. "Well, I've got to go. I'll see you guys in Texas." With that, he was off. We eat in silence, pondering. Is it really that easy to get military honors? Would we really be able to do that ourselves? Was it really a good idea to enlist? We finish our meals and throw them away without saying a word. "He came and left quickly." Brandon jokes. "I mean, he might have a point" I hear Brandon grunt in response and we leave. As we exit, I see a familiar figure struggling to get through a crowd of people and navigate her way to a terminal. "Hey, Maple!" I watch as she turns around and tries to find us. She can't see because she's too short to see through the crowd. She looks very paranoid and overwhelmed. I make my way through the ocean of people and put my hand on her shoulder. Before I can even say anything she yelps , puts a hand on my wrist, another on my forearm, crouches down, and send me over her shoulder. I hit the ground with a thud and by some miracle, I didn't hit anyone. She looks down at me, and her face twists to a look of horror. "Oh my god! I-I'm sorry, It was just reflex!" I hear loud, obnoxious laughter in the distance. Maple helps me to my feet, and I look to the origin of the laughter. Brandon is having to support himself on a table as he laughs at my misfortune. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!" "I know, I'm fine. It didn't hurt that bad." While I say that, I rub the back of my head. That was a lie. It hurt. A lot. I have a throbbing pain in the back of my head. I have no clue how in the world you can throw someone over your shoulder reflexively, but I guess that's just our training. "Are you sure you're ok?" She looks up at me in worry. "I'm fine, it stings a little, but it's fine." Brandon forces his way through the crowd of people trying to get to their flights and reaches us. "You got fucking floored!" "Well obviously." He chuckles and looks at Maple. "Are you heading to Texas?" She looks at him with a face of disappointment. Brandon's smile disappeared as he noticed what he said. He mumbles under his breath after he slightly lowers his head. "Well no shit me, good observation." I crack a slight smile and continue the conversation. "I've always wanted to go to Texas and see the Alamo." Brandon looks at me and speaks "Talking is cool, but we should all probably get moving, our flight is going to be leaving soon." I let my smile go and respond. "Yeah, probably." We begin moving through the mass of people. I hear whispers and murmurs from the people we pass. People talking about work and talking on the phone to loved ones. This is what we're fighting to protect. I've been reflecting on what makes America so great recently, and it has lead me to have a newfound respect for the flag, other people's opinions, and views. I always hated politics and ignored them, never understanding why they were so important. I always based my views on others and common sense. But now I understand that politics and disagreements are essential to America. They're essential because it gives the people power to decide who is in charge of our country, to decide what path we take. The fact that we can disagree is what makes America great. "Whatcha thinking about?" I look to my left to see Maple looking up at me. "Just what we're fighting to protect." She smiles a bit and responds. "I've always liked to believe that I was fighting for my family, but in reality I have no clue what I'm fighting for. Family, country, or did I just join because my father wanted me to?" "I joined because I have nowhere to go." She immediately looks shocked after I say that. "What?! But you're perfectly fine, you're healthy as far as I know, you're intelligent, and you're a good person." "Yeah, I'm healthy, and I might have gotten A's throughout all of high school, but I grew up in a poor family. I couldn't pay for college, then I ended up breaking up with my girlfriend at the time, and then I couldn't find a job. Things where just not going well. Then I saw the option of the Army." "Oh, I see." We continue walking and suddenly someone bumps into me and I stumble a bit. I glance to my left and right and notice that I got separated from Brandon and Maple. It's fine, I'll see them in Texas. As I wander through the airport, I hear the intercom sound off. "Boarding for flight AA6554." It's about that time, huh? It takes me a moment to make my way to the terminal but I get there and board the plane. I'm just that close to being at my first duty station.