''Only a Stones Throw Away''

Benjamin Regan Jnr remembers his fathers return from the gulf war, only when he is old enough to join up does he find out the horrors war can bring to a family.

'' Only a Stone's Throw Away''

My Daddy was a military man, career army, as was his father and his father before that. That same year I was born he had traced his linage all the way back to the civil war. He became quite proud of the fact that his great great grand father was at the battle of Fort Sumter in Charleston South Carolina . An Irish immigrant who fled the famine of 1852 only to find himself caught up the the first major battle that started the conflict. Under the command of Major Robert Anderson, my anscestor Benjamin Regan defended the battlements for two days until their surrender to confederate forces. For over a hundred years since each first male born has been named Benjamin, dad prefers to call me Junior.

I can still remember that morning he left for Kuwait after Saddam Hussein invaded, even though I was only ten

I understood how serious this was. For days before the news of occupation was all over the base and you could feel the tension in the air as the time grew closer. Men sat in groups under small make shift tents being briefed by their squad commanders as to their orders. Dad let me sit upon his knee while he listened intently his face stiff with concern and anxiety. Yet when he spoke to ask questions his voice had the authority and the demeanor like that of John Wayne, I guess that’s why the unit nicknamed him 'The Duke'.

Momma hated it, but he just laughed and would give her a big bear hug each time she brought it up.

' Why do you let those guy's call you that' she would say ' They should be treating you with more respect Ben, they should salute you and call you sir after all you are their Sargent'

' Lighten up Darlin' he would smile to her, ' These guy's need to know that I can be counted on when the time comes and if callin me Duke makes them feel safer then that’s Okay by me'

By the time he had finished his huggin she would be laughing and swayin in his arms like a young collage girl.

A few times I had caught them kissing in the kitchen as I came walking back from school, it made me feel warm inside and I remember I used to hide underneath the window, just for a moment or two so as they could maybe hold each other a little bit longer.

The love in her eyes then was obvious, yet on that morning she was holding back the tears. She knew she must be strong for him, and me. But the emotion of fear I could see  was also overwhelming, she knew too that each wife who lived on the base was feeling the same that day, but it did nothing to make it easier.

'You take care Benjamin Regan' she whispered after him from the doorway 'Don't you go and get your self shot!'

He couldn’t hear her of course over the noise of the trucks and jeeps that were on stand by to transport them to the airport. He just waved and smiled back as he walked to the other officers who were waiting with their troops. Only when he had gone did she let go. I sat on the steps outside the house for a good hour listening to her sob into her pillow. The mid morning sun was warm upon my face yet my body felt cold enough to make to make me shiver, and as I sat alone with my thoughts a light rain had begun to drift across the deserted drill yard.

Mother and I kept track as best we could of Dad by watching the news and with what she could glean off some of the civilian workers she had gotten friendly to who assisted in the communications room.

About a week after he left we found out he had been recommended for a purple heart after the battle 73 Easting. Dad was part of the 2ND Armored Calvary Regiment, first Squadron. A special unit for the purpose of reconnaissance. It seems he was in a gun fight with some Iraqi soldiers, two of his men were killed in a mortar attack but he managed to lead the rest to safety under fire while ignoring his own wounds. He had been treated in a field hospital that night and was due to be shipped back to base within a day or so.

She wasn’t happy he'd been hurt, but I knew she was pleased that he was coming home.

Their reunion would be a mixture of brackish tears and elated emotions of that I was sure, Mom had spent hours putting on her best make up and Sunday church outfit. 'How do I look Jnr?' she asked me spinning around on her heels in front of her bedroom mirror before we left for Dads plane.

' You look great Mom' I laughed, just like Marilyn Monroe' but what did I know.

She just shushed me with a hand wave and a loving smile, 'Why thank you Ben Jnr'

When we got to McChord Air Force base a large crowd was already gathering on the perimeter near the aerodrome, mostly of women and children and the odd press photographer. Mom recognized some of the other wives who lived near by us in Fort Lewis. ' Look Ben there's Gracie and Katie, you know them, you go to school with their kid's' she shouted pointing. I nodded sheepishly up to her as the bus dropped us off as close as it dared get. I could see Mom was giddy with excitement. Somehow we managed to push our way to the front of the waiting families and friends. A warm June air teased the ladies hats and floral dresses while we held hands into moments that seemed like hours, then from somewhere a voice shouted out 'Its here, look, look-just behind that cloud, it's the plane'.

We all squinted up into the  blue sky in a wave of heads, coming in from our right a glint of sunlight caught the troop carriers wings, it looked like a dragon fly hovering above a lake of people. Slowly and with nearly no sound it approached the runway. I was in awe at the size of it, I wondered just how an airplane so big could be so graceful.

Eventually it stopped facing us about sixty feet away, plane steps could be heard racing towards its front and rear doors making the crowd evermore anxious, some women had already began crying and shrieking even before the exits were opened. Mom being one of them.

A short pause in the screaming was soon outdone by a larger cheer as the first of the returning infantry emerged onto the steps. Mom jumped and jerked her head back and forth like an agitated turkey trying to get a better view.

First One then two, four and then six, men in uniform, some walking some being carried by their buddies, others limping. Bandaged heads, broken arms, men on crunches. From the rear of the plane I could see others being carried off on stretchers.

'Can you see him Ben!' Mom was shouting 'where is he, why isn’t he coming out?'

As the first few off approached us the crowd could hold back no longer, once one broke rank all were gone, running onto the runway in a frenzy of emotions, people bursting into hugs and tears.

For a heart stopping moment we thought Dad wasn't on board, then out into the sunshine he stepped, I could see his left arm was in a sling around his neck. He lifted his right briefly to shield his eye's from the sun, then I guess he heard Mom shouting his name above the noise of the engines and clapping crowds.

Once he waved she broke free of me and I watched her run across the tarmac, I followed, but I guess I just wanted this to be their moment. The ride home on the bus back to Fort Lewis was a buzz of excitement, Mom couldn’t stop talking about how good it was to see Dad home, and how she had arranged for us to go to a quite cabin by Lake America just north of the base for a week to get some 'R n R' tomorrow. I could see Dad was trying to be enthusiastic about all that Mom was rattling on about, yet I noticed a distance in his eyes while she talked it was if he was just switching off, staring blankly out of the window.

'You Okay Dad?' I asked him quietly.

He just nodded, smiled and ruffled my hair 'You bet Jnr, everything is A. O.Kay buddy' but I knew it wasn’t.

Mom got straight to packin for the trip as soon as we got home, Dad had grabbed some cold Budweiser's from the fridge and headed out to the porch. I watched him from the kitchen window struggle to open one he had placed between his legs and was trying to twist off the screw top with his good arm. I could see the frustration growing on his face.

' Can I help you with that Dad' I asked as I sat down beside him.

' R' You old enough to open a Beer Jnr?' he smiled at me.

' Mom lets me have Ginger Beer, sometimes, can't be much different than that-Huh?' Dad handed me his Bud bottle.

' Knock yurself out Kid'

Twistin it off was easy and Dad looked impressed at my proficiency. For a moment after that we just sat and looked up into the afternoon sky.

'Have you thought about what you want for the future Jnr, I mean what do you really want to do?'

I felt funny inside, Dad had never spoken to me so seriously before. My mouth went dry.

'I guess I want to sign up just like you Dad ' I finally stammered, 'it's a tradition-isn’t it?'

He just hung his head low between his legs and blew out his cheeks into a sigh before he answered me again.

'I was afraid you'd say that, but I think you should listen to your Mother'

'How? Did Yo- I mean?-' I began to protest but he cut me off sharp. ' I know she's been talking to you Ben, and this time god help me I think she's right. I think it's best that this all ends with me. I signed up for 30 years and I cant do nothing about that, but you can. Go to collage, get a job in a bank or become a baseball player-anything, anything other than being a soldier!'

'But your a hero Dad' I cried

Dad jumped to his feet in a fit of rage and threw his Beer bottle against the porch rail, smashing it into a thousand shards.

'I ain’t no hero Boy, you hear me! Those men who fought and died out there, they's the hero's, me I just got a bullet in the arm, some of them poor b******s got blew to s**t, War is bad business Ben. It will turn your world inside out, it will it rip you apart. Men do unspeakable thing to each other, they do it in the name of their god or for power and money-maybe all those things. Take from me Jnr, its better if you forget about the army. It aint worth it, nothing is'.

In all my life I had never seen my Dad like that, when he had calmed down he slid his arm around my shoulder and smiled at me just like he always did.

' There's one thing I want you to remember Son'

'Whats that Dad?'

'If ever you need me just call, I'll only be a stones throw away Okay?'

'Okay Dad'

We finished the night laughing and hugging on the porch just like it used to be until Mum called us in for Bed.

Dad got better slowly and the week away at the cabin with Mom was some of the best day's of my life. We spent the time fishing, hunting, and just being a family.

I remember one lazy afternoon Dad told me how Grandad had shown him how to bounce flat pebbles along the surface of the lake when he was about my age.

'Okay Ben, its about time you learned the art of Skimmin' he said ' Now you must make sure the stones are just right, they need to be able to fit between your finger and thumb-see!' He picked up a few and rubbed them on his trouser leg 'They go further if they shine, now get ready to count son' He threw that rock so hard I felt the air rush by on my face. ' One,two three, four, five' I shouted as I watched it move across the water.

It sank with a ripple after six, ' Beat that!' he laughed 'ole Duke still has the arm, just like my Daddy did'

Even with all his efforts to train me that day I never ever seemed to match how far he could go.

Like I said before I think back then that was when we were all the most happiest.

Over the next ten years Dad's drinking got heavier and his mood swings drifted from bad to worse, looking back I guess he was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder, for a long time the army failed to believe it even existed. He ended up being busted back to corporal after he struck and officer while drunk one night.. Mom left him  just after 7/11 and they divorced the next year. Last I heard she remarried a guy she went to collage with, and are living some where's upstate. We keep in touch but not so much as I'd like. I signed up just after I turned eighteen-I had chosen to stay with Dad in Fort Lewis, Being an army man is in my blood I suppose.

In 2003 George Bush declared war on Iraq, dubbed 'Operation Iraqi Freedom' some believe it was a mistake-others say we needed to stop Saddam Hussein because he had weapons of mass destruction. Either way it made no difference to us grunts on the ground. We were there to get the job done. Dad had seen to it that I was installed into his unit, I know it was his way of looking out for me. Don't get me wrong I never got any special treatment, if I messed up! I still got it in the face by him. On the 15^th of April we were deployed to Tikrit a follow up mission to the successful capture of KirKuk on the 10^th.

It was during a recon operation south west of the town that we engaged the Iraqi military, Dad and I got separated from the rest during the fierce gun battle that followed. The extraction point if there was trouble was 3 clicks from our current position, we had learned by radio that the team had made it back okay. But Dad and I were pinned down in two gulleys either side of a machine gun post that was blocking our way.

Every time we shouted across to each other a burst of bullets strafed our heads.

'Can you hear me Jnr' he screamed across the dirt field.

'Yes dad' I shouted back, my reply brought on a salvo so loud it hurt my ears, we were that close.

' Listen to me son' he came back in a lull. 'I’m out of shells apart from my side arm, what is your situation'

' One full rifle clip,plus my M-9' I replied as loud as I dared.

For an endless moment he never spoke.

' Okay, Okay,this is how its is Jnr, we need to take out this position if we don't we are gonna die, do you understand!, H.Q have advised me that the area is to hot for an Apache strike so I guess it's up to us' -Another explosion of fire kicks up dust into our faces.

'Listen to me Ben-'

'Yes Dad I hear you'

'Remember when I told you I'd only be a stones throw away son if you ever needed me, well this is what you are gonna do, when I shout go you  get up from that dirt trench and run as fast as you can-do you understand!'

looking back now I should have known what he intended , but I was too s**t scared to argue.

' Get ready son, when I count to three we move-got it!'

'Yes Daddy' I whispered back ' I hear you'

He never counted.

The next thing I saw was my Dad up running towards the enemy his teeth gritted, his eyes focused and narrow, everything seemed to blur into slow motion through my tears, sand and screams. In his left hand he was pumpin his service pistol as fast as it could fire, and with the other he was skimmin stones at them from out of his leg pocket, bullets were bouncing of the ground at his feet as he zigg zagged, just like we had been trained to do under fire. I watched as he put one round into the head of one guy and two into the chest of the other. All the time throwin his rocks, I guess they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. At last the gun fell silent.

Sweat and blood covered his face as he turned to me and smiled, he nodded in my direction only once before dropping to his knees. By the time I got to him he was already dead.

My Dad was a Hero that day.

I made it back safely to the extraction point carrying him on my shoulders, the war was long and Bloody and to be honest I can't say if we had victory or not. But what I do know is that a lot of brave men have fought and died so that we might feel safe in our beds.

I left the army after that, went back to collage and got me a job in a bank-ain’t that a joke.  Now every time I visit Dads grave I place a stone just below his name-''Sargent Benjamin Regan, 2^nd Armored Calvary- killed in action'' and if I ever have a son I think I'll call him-well lets just wait and see shall we.

Will Neill . 2014

Author's Note

This will be my last post for a while so I hope I've done this one justice. I know it's another long one-sorry about that. But try and read it.
Thanks.
Will

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A very sad story.
"Go to collage, get a job in a bank or become a baseball player-anything, anything other than being a soldier!'"
I told my kids the same things. I follow my father to war. He followed his father. I told my kids. War teaches you nothing. Your Grandfather dreamed of the Korea war to his last days. I carry the bad memory now. The story felt real. Thank you for sharing the powerful story.
Coyote

[Will Neill]

Coyote, once again thank you for reading.
Will

[Abdul Alsaaidi]

Well written story with good imagination. You seem have some knowledge of Iraq and the Gulf War unlike most of people in the West. I was in that war, we suffered a lot from it.. But I disagree with you when you said " Either way it made no difference to us grunts on the ground. We were there to get the job done." It might a job for that soldier or for you, but it was a life turning for about 30 million people were living under the most brutal regime in the last 50 years.

[Will Neill]

Abdul, Thank you for reading my story, I am not a soldier nor was I involved in any military

action in your country. I am very aware that your people suffered a lot under a brutal regime for so long but you must not take any offense against what I have written because I never intended any. What you read is pure fiction and the thoughts and words of a fictional character and how 'they' see themselves.I do hope your country and all the Iraqi people are in a better place now and I wish them and you peace and prosperity.
Will

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Poignant and resounded in the nature of war and war craft. The sullen memory of bravery is washed away when one follows in the footsteps of men we idolise, well done, a very humbling piece that will stay with me today.

[Will Neill]

Thomas, thank you for taking the time to read and review my story.
Will

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Your welcome, the pleasure was all mine.

[MAC]

What a well crafted story you have written Will. Flows so well and into my favs it goes.

[Will Neill]

Mark thank you,I am sorry I didn't reply sooner but I don't be on so much.
Take care.
Will

[Kelly Scheppers]

This reminds me of those stories my grandfather used to speak of, on those Thanksgiving days that are now golden. You write with such conviction, Will...such compassion.

My best,
Kelly

[Will Neill]

Kelly,Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story, I am so glad you enjoyed it.
Tá cairde fíor deacair a fháil.
Will.

[Marie]

You did a really good job on this one. The flavor of the war--and of heroes...

[Will Neill]

Thanks Marie, I am happy you took the time to read and reveiw
Take care
Will