Forever (6 page)

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CHAPTER 7

Scott settled into the routine with a broken foot. The last time he’d spent an inordinate amount of time on crutches, it nearly ended up being the end of his world; his whole life.

But this was a different Scott Mitchell. If he wasn’t sure before, he knew he had a life again; maybe even a future. From the time he talked to Roni that night, the sky was bluer, the sun was brighter and he didn’t even mind his green clothes anymore.

He ended up spending a little over two weeks in his cast. He’d made it to the rifle range for practice, and even qualified firing a .45 pistol and throwing a grenade in his cast. But it came off on May 5, two weeks from graduation. It would be hectic day.

From the hospital, Scott had to go straight to the uniform issue building to get his dress uniforms. Because of his cast, he couldn’t get his uniforms before and he’d already missed a week of off-post passes. He and the boys were planning a night in Rolla on Saturday; steak dinners, lots of drinks, maybe even a movie. It was the last Saturday to do anything like this; the next weekend they’d be on their field exercises. The next Saturday after that, Scott would be in San Antonio.

He hopped out of a cab at the barracks just in time to put his uniforms away and march to lunch. Afterward, it was off to Advanced Individual Training briefings. This was the day everyone headed off to different locations around the Fifth Brigade area to hear about their next assignments. Guys like Andy, who was going into intelligence, or Terry, who was going to be a photographer, were in pretty small meetings. Those were pretty rare Modes of Service. The 11B (Infantry) and 12B (Armor) meetings were on opposite sides of the gym. Scott and the other two dozen guys who were going to medical training in San Antonio met in the chapel. A medical services officer from Fort Sam was there to give the guys an idea of what was up next for them.

“You’ll be arriving late the morning of the 20th and you’ll have free time over the weekend,” this Lt. Marsh was telling them. “Training will actually start on Monday, the 23rd.”

Scott and Carl were looking over their packets about San Antonio, Fort Sam, and other fine details. They were looking for Texas barbecue and good beer.

As well as things had been going for Scott, he wasn’t prepared for the next bit of information. Between letters and phone calls, he and Roni were making plans for what they had hoped would be a three-day weekend. Scott had it figured they’d probably have Memorial Day off. He was going to fly home either Friday night or Saturday morning, then fly back late Monday. Assuming, of course, they had Memorial Day off.

But, as his father had taught him over the years, never assume.

“…and, due to the limited amount of time we have for training; just 24 days for 91B, you will be training on Memorial Day,” Marsh said.

Scott’s head snapped up so hard he felt a stinger in his neck. His mouth hung open dumbly and he mumbled, quietly, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Carl nudged him and said, “Sorry, man.”

The guys had been hearing about nothing but Roni for at least a month, and he’d been talking about Memorial Day for a while. They all knew there was a chance of having to be there on the 30th (which was also the day after his 20th birthday), but Scott might have overbuilt his hopes. He really didn’t hear much of anything else Mar
sh said. He’d heard enough.

Andy, Terry, Carl,
Derric and Scott had become pretty good friends over the last eight weeks. Four white guys and a black guy; Derric called the other four his offensive line, while they called Derric “Token.”

So the other four knew Scott was hurting. He called Roni that night, and he was more upset than she was.

“Footer, it’s OK,” she said softly, “it’s not your fault you work for assholes. So it’s another month; you’ll be home for the Stampede. That’s worth waiting for!”

“Yeah, and it was probably stupid of me to get my hopes up,” Scott said. “I just miss you so much, baby.”

“I miss you too, and I love you,” Roni added, “and I’m REALLY horny…but we’ll work it out.”

Roni always had this way of throwing in this one comment, just to drive him nuts. “
horny…”

Yeah, baby, thanks for that one, he thought.

The next week was hectic. Monday it was off to the rifle range to qualify with M-16s. To qualify, and to graduate, trainees had to hit 16 of 32 targets. Scott was never much of a hunter, but for some reason, he was the best shot in the platoon. He hit 31 of 32 targets and won the Delta 5-2 Top Shot award.

Wednesday morning was the final PT test. Scott couldn’t make the Top 10, but he broke 30 in the Run, Dodge and Jump without breaking his foot and, for the first time, went down and back on the horizontal ladder without falling.

Thursday morning it was off to the woods for three days and two nights. There were even war games against Alpha 4-4, the other BCT company that was on the same cycle as them.

After a free day Sunday – Andy, Terry, Carl and Scott watched the St. Louis Cardinals lose 15-12 to the Atlanta Braves on TV at the NCO Club – and cleaning and turning in TA-50 on Monday, not much was left.

The first few days after Scott found out about Memorial Day, the guys were pretty sympathetic to him and his disappointment. They all felt as if they knew Roni and were really pulling for their friend.

But after a few days, the guys seemed to blow it off. They even teased him about it.

And there were other odd conversations. On Sunday, Andy and Scott had gone to the phone bank before the Cardinals game started. Scott called his family first and they were all in a really silly mood for some reason. At one point, Kimmy asked him, “So are you surprised?”

“About what?” he asked. In the background he heard his dad shout “Kimberly Marie!” while Amy was shushing her.

“Ummm…nothing. Love you, bye…here’s Mom!”

He went to call Roni but her line at home was busy. Probably Brooke on the phone, she was on the phone more than Amy, which goes some.

He looked back toward Andy and mouthed “busy” at him. Andy nodded, then hung up and turned to make another call. “Probably Mollie,” Scott thought.

Mollie had been Andy’s girlfriend since high school; very much a hippie-chick.

Scott turned around and put the call through to Roni. He paid his dollar for a five-minute call. The phone rang twice and her dad, Ray, answered.

“Hi Ray,
it’s Scott,” he said. They’d talked a few times lately.

“How you doing, soldier?” Ray asked. “Just a few left, right?”

“Yes sir, can’t wait,” Scott said. “Is your eldest around?”

“She’s right here,” Ray said.

“Hi baby, I love you,” Roni said. “How much time we have?”

“About four minutes.” He’d blown a minute talking to Ray.

“OK, well finals sucked, but it’s over and that’s all I care about!” she said.

“And this shit is about over too,” Scott added.

“Won’t be long now,” Roni said.

“Yeah, another month,” Scott said glumly.

“Yeah, a month,” Roni replied. Was she giggling?

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Nothing, Brooke’s being goofy,” she said.

The rest of the call was pretty basic. The one-minute warning went off.

“About a minute, babe,” he said.

“OK, baby. Hey, we’ll talk in the next few days. I’m going to pick up Maggie at Rick’s parents and we’re going to get your guitar,” she said.

“Why are you getting my guitar?” he asked, puzzled.

“Oh…well, Mark said Snakebite might play the Stampede, and he wanted to me to bring it over so he could tune it.” Snakebite was the band Scott and Mark played in with some of their high school friends. They had played at some of the dances at the Fourth of July Wild Horse Stampede, the oldest rodeo in Colorado.

“Great,” he said. He loved playing the rodeo. “Have him do the 12-string, too. Hey. You’re the best, you know that?”

“I will, and actually, I do,” she said. “And I really love you, you know that?”

“Actually, I do,” he said. “And I really love you too. You know that?”

“Yes,” Roni said softly.
“Bye, baby.”

“Bye, baby,” Scott said, and they hung up. Then he had a thought.

“Why couldn’t Amy take Mark my guitar?” he wondered. Then it passed.

****

CHAPTER 8

Wednesday morning dawned bright and sunny. The Missouri weather had been perfect all week and was supposed to stay that way. It was the last full day of basic training and for the most part, it was to be a pretty easy one.

After breakfast, the men of D-5-2 had departure paperwork to fill out. Half of the guys,  including Andy and Terry and anyone going to Fort Benning for Infantry, had a week of leave coming before they left for AIT. The rest would be leaving in busses going in all directions. The guys of D-5-2 going to San Antonio wouldn’t be leaving until 1630 hours and would drive straight through to Fort Sam Houston.

Wednesday was also the day the families came in. Probably a third of the guys of Second Platoon had family coming for graduation. Scott really hadn’t given it much thought; to him it was the end of basic training, but for a lot of guys, this was a key moment in life.

Andy’s parents, and even Mollie, were coming. Terry’s family and his wife, Mary, were on their way, as were Derric’s mom and grandmother. Scott sighed at the thought; those guys were all so excited. He wished he was.

“Second Platoon!” bellowed Drill Sergeant Sprouil. “We will be marching to the parade field here in a few minutes for graduation practice. At 1145 we will go directly to lunch. From 1300 to 1500 you will be packing and cleaning my motherfucking barracks. At 1500, those of you who have family here will be able to meet with them and all of you will then be free until Thursday morning.”

“Oh YEAH!” Andy said, as quietly as possible.

“Getting laid tonight, there bud?” Scott whispered. 

“Oh God, I hope so, Mitch,” Andy answered. “Going to be a fiiiiiine day for a lot of people.”

The platoon turned right face and marched off to practice.

“Goddamn it, what time is it?” Terry asked no one in particular as he scrubbed at the barracks floor.

“Five minutes later than the last time you asked,” Scott answered. “Get a fucking watch, will ya?”

Scott was washing windows and becoming increasingly tired of Mark and Andy. He was happy for them, but also looking forward to them taking off in an hour or so with their families. He could only take other people’s happiness for so long.

But for Scott, the day was victory enough. His locker was nearly empty; other than his graduation khakis, a set of fatigues for breakfast and his shower supplies, pretty much everything was packed. His civvies were on top and he was still trying to figure out how to pack the winter coat he had with him when he arrived in March.

He had survived. When Scott arrived nine weeks earlier, he was hopeless and depressed. But a beautiful girl had saved him – again – and even if he couldn’t see her for another six weeks, he had survived. And he loved that beautiful girl so much.

“C’mon, Mitch,” Andy was shouting as he ran by, “it’s time.”

All of D-5-2 fell out onto the company street. The company commander, Captain Lewis, was out front.

“Men of D-5-2!” he shouted. “I thank you for your efforts for the past two months. You have reached the end of this journey. You are dismissed to either your families or for your own time. Breakfast is at 0600 tomorrow and we line up for graduation at 0900. And those of you with family should know that many of them are parked out on the street behind us.”

Senior Drill Sergeant Adams stepped up next to the CO. “Company!
Aaaattesion!!!”

“DISSSSSSSSSSSSSSMISSSSSSSSSSSSSED!”

There were hugs and handshakes everywhere. Andy, Scott and the guys were jumping all over each other like it was Game 7 of the World Series. For a moment or two, anyway.

“Well,” Andy said. “Sorry, but I
gotta go!”

Andy, Terry,
Derric and about a third of D-5-2 went barreling off between the buildings to greet their families, as Scott and the others walked back to the barracks.

Scott was standing in front of his locker, still trying to figure out how to pack his winter coat, when the back door of the barracks opened. “Mitch!” Andy called from the back of the building.

Scott peered back through the rows of bunks. “Yeah?”

“C’mon out and meet my family,” Andy said. “Please?”

“Sure, OK.”

Scott walked back to where Andy was holding the door open and stepped out on the back dock. Andy’s parents, Dale and Cheryl, looked very tan and very Californian, in shorts and polo shirts. With them was a tall, leggy blonde with wavy shoulder-length hair and John Denver glasses. They were parked out at the curb, about 25 feet away.