The Story Begins (20 page)

18

Leadership Style

Jaden had good
soldiers who, knowing their jobs very well and taking their duty very seriously, made his job very easy. Because of his lack of expertise in the respective fields of the various sections in his platoon, whenever he tried to help out in their jobs, he often found himself doing more harm than good. His job, his guys would always remind him, was to manage them and make sure that they did what they were getting paid to do. He’d then always argue that he saw no reason why his platoon even needed a platoon leader, given how efficient and competent his guys were.

Although he hadn’t been there that long and though rank was a recognized part of the profession, Jaden always treated his soldiers as his equals, unlike Lieutenant Krappa, who treated his men with an air of arrogance. Because of his very amicable leadership style, it did not take long at all for him to earn the respect of the entire company, not just that of his platoon.

His soldiers would have bent over backwards for him. They never failed in any of the tasks assigned to the platoon and not only did they carry out their duties in a manner that made the young officer seem like God’s gift to the army but even how they carried themselves off-duty was to be commended. Unlike many of the other units, whose company commanders and first sergeants were often called in to the Provost Marshall’s office on Sullivan Barracks at ungodly hours almost every weekend due to unbecoming behavior by their soldiers, none of Jaden’s guys had once gotten in trouble since he’d gotten there. Prior to his arrival, however, while Lieutenant Moore had been the platoon leader, the story had been quite different.

Under Jaden’s leadership, not a single soldier dreamed of doing anything that would have reflected badly on their lieutenant and it was not uncommon for soldiers to randomly approach him just to tell him that they’d happily follow him into battle and take a bullet for him without hesitation.

Captain Peterson had once called Jaden into his office to laud him for the terrific job he was doing both in his on-duty responsibilities and also for keeping the guys out of trouble off–duty. “I have no idea what it is that you’re doing, or how you’re doing it, but ever since you’ve gotten here, not a single one of your soldiers has gotten into trouble,” the Captain had said to him. “I wish I could say the same for the other platoon but unfortunately I can’t.” Captain Peterson had then paused for thought before continuing. “You know, I never could quite figure out what Moore’s problem was but the work was hardly ever done. And to make things worse, I was picking some of your guys up almost every weekend from the MP station. The German cops would pick them up for disorderly conduct – for, you know, like picking fights at nightclubs, being completely drunk and rowdy, disturbing the peace and the like. You name it and someone in your platoon has done it. Anyway, not only could Moore not control his guys, but he was never anywhere to be found when shit went south with his guys. But that’s all changed with you. Keep up the good work, Lieutenant. Soldiers can be very unruly, to say the least, but somehow you’re managing your guys exceptionally well.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Dude!” the Captain had then said casually, “You have no idea just how much I appreciate the peaceful weekends and good nights’ rest you’ve afforded me since you’ve gotten here.”

“It’s nothing, sir. You just have to know how to care for and treat folks. If you do it right, it’s unlikely they’ll let you down,” the Lieutenant explained.

Hanging out in the bay with some of his mechanics while the latter worked on the tracks of a tank on a relatively warm December morning, Jaden decided to inquire why his guys never took their jobs as seriously when Lieutenant Moore was in charge. “Ever since I’ve been here, it’s like your productivity level has skyrocketed. I’ve been here for a little over three months and most of the unit’s equipment is fully mission-capable again. Why wasn’t that the case when Lieutenant Moore was here?” Jaden asked.

Private Kaplan explained. “Sir, are you and Lieutenant Krappa friends?”

Jaden looked at him, aghast. “Kaplan! Whatever you do, please do not ever mention friendship in the same breath you would my name and that of Lieutenant Krappa. Please, please, please!”

“Roger that, sir,” Kaplan said, laughing. “Now, sir, tell me, what kind of people do you think would befriend someone like Krappa –
Lieutenant
Krappa, I mean?”

“If I were to guess, I’d have to say probably people pretty much like him. That’s not to say
only
people like him but I’d be inclined to think that it would be mostly those with whom he shares similar personality traits.”

“In that case then, sir, it’s enough to say that Lieutenant Krappa and Lieutenant Moore were very, very good buddies,” Kaplan said.

“I see!” said Jaden, making the connection.

“Exactly, sir!” said the Private. “And when you don’t take care of your soldiers but instead treat them like shit… well, let’s just say what goes around comes around, sir.”

“Yep, I believe in that wholeheartedly,” agreed the Lieutenant.

“See, sir, we’re mostly lower-enlisted in the unit so we don’t need to worry about evaluation reports just yet. By the time evaluations start to concern many of us, most of us here will have already moved on to a different duty station. So, because we are untouchable in that respect, we made damn sure that Lieutenant Moore failed, and failed miserably. The unit has always been a team and because we all acted together, what could he have done – court martial or demote the bunch of us? Hell no! And he couldn’t bitch to the captain that his entire platoon was disobeying orders because obviously the problem could only have been him.”

“I’m with you on that assessment of the situation,” Jaden said. “Unless you’re Jesus, if nine out of ten people don’t see eye to eye with you, chances are you’re the screwed up one.”

“You, sir, on the other hand, are the coolest lieutenant any of us has ever worked with. Even the guys in Lieutenant Krappa’s platoon say that and you’re not even their platoon leader,” Specialist Morgan chimed in.

“Thanks for the compliment, Morgan!”

“Don’t mention it, sir. It’s the truth. You come out to the barracks on weekends, bring beer, have a drink or two with us, let us go home early if we finish up early… hell, you even let us take turns sleeping in.”

That last perk Jaden had initially implemented very discretely so as not to draw the company commander’s attention; Captain Peterson, however, was quite aware of it but chose to look the other way because Jaden did an excellent job of keeping his soldiers motivated and productive. Additionally, the captain was certain that the young lieutenant did so for no other reason than as a reward for the great job his men consistently did.

“There aren’t too many out there like you, sir,” finished Morgan.

19

A Lonely Soul

Though the winter
hadn’t been a terribly cold one, the weather was changing for the better for spring was now upon them. All had been going well and Jaden really hadn’t anything he might have complained of, at least such was the impression. He spent a great deal of time with his soldiers at the barracks after the work day was done, and even more so on weekends, just having fun playing cards, barbecuing, recounting stories and such. He was always amused when he’d see the guys working so hard, tirelessly trying to impress the local girls who had come to visit. The hard work had, evidently, been worth every bit of effort for some of his troops as there were a few among them who had proudly walked up to him and introduced their girl, beaming as though they had just snagged the most beautiful woman God had created. And why not believe so? he thought. Beauty, after all, is in the eye of the beholder.

The more Jaden hung out with his soldiers, carrying on as though there were not a care in the world to be concerned with, the more he felt that something about him wasn’t quite right. And try as he did, he simply could not fathom what precisely that might be. He often thought of Melanie and he’d wonder if she was faring well. Ever since she had overheard his conversation with Tina, they had stopped seeing each other. He questioned if perhaps how he was feeling might have concerned her. He didn’t believe that it was related; still he was unsure. He missed her sorely.

He very often pondered if at any time in his life he had felt as he now did. He didn’t believe so. Whatever the emotions were that stirred within him, he found them to be very strange and alien. As the days wore on, that which stirred within did not abate; on the contrary it magnified. And it wasn’t too long before he became so overwhelmed by it that, though oblivious, he descended into a state of depression. His visits to the barracks became less and less frequent then ceased altogether. If he wasn’t at work then he was at home. He didn’t care to do any more. He no longer cared to explore Germany, nor anywhere else in Europe for that matter.

For several months his routine had remained unchanged, never deviating in the least; work in the morning then home in the evening. And so his days repeated themselves through the fall, winter, and into the following spring. Then something changed.

The pattern was for him to get home, change out of his uniform, switch on the television, have a couple of drinks, maybe three if not more, read a bit, more television, and then think of Melanie until sleep overcame him. This particular evening, however, would turn out to be different; the monotony of his routine was to be broken.

He headed home after work and began settling into his customary ways, up until he switched on the television, that is. The very first image he looked upon was the Water Tower. He couldn’t understand the language but it appeared as though the program was a documentary in which the tower was featured. Seeing it reminded him of his trip downtown with Mrs. Steinberger. He remembered the odd phenomenon that had occurred. The mystery of what happened that day then got him thinking of the mysterious call concerning his car from a person who supposedly did not work at the office on whose behalf she had said she’d called him. His train of thought then led him to wondering why Angela had reacted to him as she had. He smiled when he remembered what Mrs. Steinberger had said about meeting someone at the Water Tower. He decided that he’d take a trip downtown to visit it. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll discover why I felt so drawn to it,” he said reflectively.

AT
THE WATER TOWER: He sat on one of the park benches watching the water sprouting high into the air. It looked beautiful against the backdrop of park lights that had just come on. He thought it must have looked even more spectacular when nightfall had fully set in.

It was a Friday evening so seeing children playing in the park at that time of day while their parents watched was not out of the ordinary, he assumed. It seemed like everywhere he looked, couples were cozying up to each other. This made him smile. They all looked genuinely happy. He wondered if theirs were destined to be lasting unions or would they fall apart at some point. Was the divorce rate in Germany as high as it was back in the States? He watched the children play and was curious as to what life had in store for them. Would they grow up happy? Or would they be like the countless children the world-over he’d see on television programs; the victims of countless broken and unhappy homes, their innocence destroyed, and often forced to grow up faster than any child should have to. He also thought of one of the unfortunate consequences of broken homes, that being how oftentimes they beget new cycles of unhappiness, thereby perpetuating a seemingly unbreakable cycle of misery which is passed onto the lives of successive generations.

His heart was warmed by everything that he saw until he thought of Melanie and how much he missed her. That’s when an epiphany suddenly dawned upon him; he was very lonely.

As he leaned back on the bench, he noticed another bench that might have been seventy meters away from where he sat at an angle diagonal and to the right of him. Seated upon it was an old couple, arm in arm, and they seemed to be looking in his direction.

Ever since his arrival in Germany, force protection was a spiel he had heard every Friday before they were released for the weekend. “Always blend in with the locals and try to be as inconspicuous as possible in order not to make yourself a terrorist’s target,” Captain Peterson would brief them at Friday final formations.

Though dressed no differently than the local people, he still couldn’t help but wonder if there might have been something about him that made it all too obvious that he was a US soldier; if there was, perhaps that’s why the couple were looking at him. He didn’t believe that there was any telltale sign, other than his military-style haircut, but that couldn’t have been it as a baseball cap sat snugly upon his head and such caps were just as common in Mannheim as they were in the States. As far as he could ascertain, there really wasn’t anything striking about him that distinguished him from any other person. And it certainly didn’t seem likely that the old couple was some manner of secret operative duo, spying on him. There was absolutely nothing he could possibly offer them, nor any terrorist organization for that matter.

Around the couple children played, running back and forth around them. There were three, the oldest probably no older than seven. Grandchildren, perhaps. Turning his attention back to the couple, it appeared as though they smiled at him. When the lady waved to him, he knew then with all certainty that they were, indeed, looking at him. It couldn’t have been any other person as there wasn’t anyone behind him; the bench he sat upon was against a hedge. He waved back as he thought what a lovely and friendly couple that they would smile and wave to a stranger. However, there did seem to be a familiarity about them. But that would be absurd, he decided. Other than those with whom he worked, and of course his landlord and his wife, he knew no one else. Perhaps the couple seemed familiar only because theirs, too, was an interracial relationship just as was the elderly couple at the airport. This couple looked a few years younger than the couple at the airport but still old enough to be grandparents.

After spending a bit of time at the Water Tower, he decided that he’d return home. He had hoped to find meaning in what had happened the very first time he had looked upon the tower and why he felt so drawn to it, but his visit was in vain for nothing by way of an indicator as to the peculiarity of the place had manifested. As he rose he noticed that one of the children who played around the couple, a little girl, had fallen and appeared to have bruised herself on the knee. The lady went to tend to her; her husband, he presumed, had kept his eyes on him. Because of the bit of distance between them, he couldn’t be certain but he felt as though the man looked at him quite intently, like one observing Jaden’s every action. Jaden thought nothing of it. Deciding that it would be polite to wave goodbye, he did so. The man must have said something to his wife because she looked up from the child and smiled then both she and her husband waved back. “Nice to know that there are still good souls left in the world,” Jaden said as he began to walk away.

He walked up the steps leading to the Water Tower from the park and as soon as he reached the top, he looked back to take one last look at the couple. To his surprise only the man remained. He looked around for the lady and children who had been there just moments before but they were nowhere to be found. The man, however, was seated in the same place, still looking at him. That’s kind of strange, Jaden thought. “It’s not like they could have just vanished into thin air yet they could not have gone far either in the few seconds that it took me to get up here,” he whispered. “I’m sure they’re here somewhere.”

He made his way to his car and headed home, all the while thinking about the couple. Because they too were an older black and white interracial couple, he thought that perhaps Germany really wasn’t that racist after all. This is the second such couple I’ve seen, he thought.

What Jaden didn’t know was that the couple was, in fact, one and the same as the couple at the airport. It was Jaden, his beloved wife, and their grandchildren from a time yet to come, returned to spend time in Jaden’s present. When Jaden had gotten up to leave, his wife-to-be and as-yet unborn grandchildren had returned from whence they had come while his older self had remained.

*

Time
was not a friend to Jaden for as it passed, his heart mended not and his loneliness only grew all the more worse. The thought of Melanie was ever-present with him and it was a struggle to balance work with his growing inner turmoil. Keeping up appearances was taking its toll. He’d lie in bed and think over and over again about how he and Melanie had met and how close they had been. He missed how close they were and wondered why things had turned out as they had. His soul was very disquieted.

Nightly was he tormented for nightly would he replay the undoing of what he and Melanie had shared; and nightly would he blame himself for his fate before deciding that nothing he did would have ever placed Melanie in his arms.

He’d start by asking who else if not he was to blame. After all, it was he who had failed to make known his feelings to Melanie when he had ample opportunity to do so. He’d then counter his postulation that things might have been different between him and Melanie with Mike’s assertion, almost as though it were truth revealed to Mike by divinity, that Melanie could never love another other than him. Using such logic he’d then invalidate the notion that he had ever had a chance at all with Melanie, regardless of if he had told her how he felt or not. It would not have made a difference in the least, he’d try to convince himself. But he’d then remember when Melanie had asked him if he’d ever date her, to which he had answered no. Thinking about that question would in turn lead him to believe that she might have actually cared for him beyond friendship; that her questioning hadn’t just been curiosity on her part. She really meant it differently, he would tell himself. She
had
fallen in love with him during the time she and Mike had ended their relationship, he wanted to believe.

Such was the constant anguish he relived over and over every night. He hadn’t realized that his predicament had begun to sicken him; and to deal with his unhappiness, he resorted to drinking a great deal more. He hadn’t realized that he had become an alcoholic.

Because Jaden had always been exceptionally adept at portraying himself in the manner he’d rather others perceive him, as opposed to what the reality that his life really was, the semblance of truth he created to protect the façade that all was well with him when his troops would comment that he seemed to be a bit off-center were only too believable.