by Lewis, Rykar
He shaved, jumped into the shower, and dressed in his uniform. Today was the day. After three years with the Anti-Terrorism Battalion, he was finally leaving. His heart was heavy. He liked the Marines here. Come to think of it, he liked Marines anywhere. He really just hated to leave a base. But it had to happen, and today was the day of departure.
Parks shut off the television, which he had accidentally left running all night, and stepped into the kitchen. He pulled the pantry door open, to reveal merely a box of cereal. Still half asleep, he poured a bowl full and threw the empty box away. Then he grabbed a jug of milk and covered the cereal with it. Now, that too was empty, so he pitched it in the trash. He looked at the digital clock on the oven – 0630. He’d better hurry things up. He didn’t want to be late for work on his last day. Just then, the home phone rang and Parks let his answering machine record it. It turned out to be a telemarketer, trying to sell some new kind of deal on insurance. They had been after him on that deal for weeks. When were they going to get the picture that he didn’t want anything from them? They were definitely persistent, he’d give them that.
After he finished breakfast, Parks strolled over to the computer to check out gold’s price for the day. He still had about ten pounds of gold left. He was just saving it for a rainy day, just in case.
The price was down to only $930 an ounce. He was glad he’d sold his ninety pounds last month. What a deal he’d made. That was most of the reason he had money to burn these days.
Parks again checked the time: 0650; time to get going. He walked to the door where he pulled on his boots and put on his uniform cover. He then locked the door behind him as he walked out. Today things were all bright and cheery outside. Most of the standing rain from last night had evaporated already, and the sky was blue without a visible cloud. The air was crisp and cool, which in Parks’ opinion was the best part of a classic spring day. On days like this, he wished he had an outside job, where he could enjoy this beautiful weather. Come to think of it, he was going to be outside today for his change of command ceremony. Last night he’d been a grouch about the whole new assignment deal. Today, he had a better outlook on it. And he felt much better about life now that he’d just accepted what had to happen.
As Parks drove out of the neighborhood, he thought of the words that were printed on a bridge back at Fort Bliss. “It’s a great day to be a soldier,” it said. Whenever Parks used to drive by that he would always say, “It’s an even greater day to be a Marine.” It most certainly was one of those “greater days” today.
Parks stopped at a stop sign and turned on the radio, but only commercials were playing. He’d had enough of people marketing their items, so he turned it off, rolled down his window, and enjoyed the cool morning breeze. The office was only about five minutes down the road.
His mind wandered as he splashed through a remaining puddle of rain. He wondered what his new job in Washington was going to be like. He wondered where exactly he’d work. Probably in the Eisenhower Executive Office Building, he assumed. The biggest question he had was what he was going to have to do everyday. He didn’t have any answers for that question, but he figured he’d better not worry about it. Answers would come in just a couple of days.
* * *
Parks entered his office at exactly 0700. He began to gather his gear and put it in boxes, which were provided by one of his Marines. It took a long time to take down his belongings and pack them up, but at about 0945, he had almost the entire office stripped bare. It looked so desolate and plain now, and as Parks began to tear down the last of his posters and other items, Zhou stopped by.
“Sir, it looks bare in here,” he stated with his ever-so-slight Asian accent.
“I know it,” Parks replied, rolling up a poster. “I don’t know why I put so much junk in here.”
“Huh. I understand what you’re trying to say, sir. I know because my garage is the same way.”
“Mine isn’t, because all the stuff I’d put in the garage I put right in here.”
Zhou chuckled. “Are you ready for this afternoon, sir?”
“Yes and no.”
“Meaning?”
“I’m ready for what happens at the ceremony, but I’m not so ready for the D.C. assignment.”
Parks cast his eyes to the floor as an unexpected sense of nervousness about his new assignment came over him. He then realized that he was indeed nervous about going to D.C. and reporting to the National Security Advisor. He was nervous about the unknown elements of his soon-to-be job, and what it would mean for him. There was a lot that could happen with this new assignment that could make him very miserable.
“Sir, you’ve been a commander of Marines here for what…six years?” Zhou suddenly asked.
“Not in a row, but yes. I was definitely blessed to have had the privilege of coming here on two separate tours.”
“Very impressive, sir.” Zhou leaned against the bulkhead. “Do you think you’ll like your new job at D.C.? I mean, you must be doing something important if you have to report to the National Security Advisor and all. What do you think, sir?”
“I really don’t know how to answer you,” Parks confessed. “But I’ll tell you, I’m going to like it eventually, even if I have to force myself to.”
Parks nodded for added assurance as he rubbed Germ-X onto his hands yet again for the fifth time in five minutes. He was slightly paranoid about germs, and he was very conscious about keeping his hands clean. He just hated “germy” things. For instance, he wouldn’t eat his hamburger if it touched the table, he wouldn’t use silverware or straws that a restaurant provided, he would simply bring his own plastic utensils, and he would never eat a meal with unwashed hands. The soldiers he worked with at Fort Bliss had nicknamed him “Extra Germ-X,” a step above his favorite hand sanitizer, Germ-X. Parks didn’t think he was quite that bad. Sure, maybe he liked to be germ free, but what was so wrong with that?
“Anyway,” Parks began again, “what’s up with you, Gunny?”
“Absolutely nothing, sir. I was just checking in with you to say hi.”
“Okay. Got it.”
Zhou looked over his shoulder out into the hallway and said, “I’d better get going and let you finish here. I’ll see you later, sir.”
“Sure thing.” Parks watched his best platoon sergeant turn and exit the office. He’d sure miss Zhou. What a guy he was. He’d been passed over for promotion five times in a row, and he could still smile and be happy. “Promotion isn’t everything,” he’d always told Parks. His actions certainly proved that statement.
9
Thursday, March 13th – 1100 hours
Camp Lejeune, North Carolina
Parks hurled the last box into the bed of his truck. He pulled up the tail gate and looked at all the boxes of gear he previously had in his office. It was amazing how he had fit all that into one office. That was his specialty. He could fit a lot of stuff in a small space. Parks secured the boxes by tying them together, and then to the hooks on the inside of the truck bed. He used the spare rope he always had in his truck, specifically for occasions like this. Parks always tried to be prepared for the worst, and every now and then he’d be caught off guard. But not today.
After making sure his truck was locked, he walked back toward the building, saluting a lieutenant colonel as he walked by. Parks opened the door, walked the long hall, turned right into a short hall, walked down five doors, and then turned into his office. He could walk that stretch blindfolded he’d done it so many times.
Once inside, he found the broom and dustpan, and swept the office clean. There wasn’t much dirt on the floor, so he was done in a flash. He then stepped back and looked over the office. It was completely renovated, clean, and good to go. Satisfied with the job he’d done, Parks turned around and headed for Johnson’s office to let him know that his office was in tip-top shape.
* * *
At 1400 on the nose, the change of command ceremony began. Every one of Parks’ Ma
rines was present. Bravo Company was called to order by First Sergeant Bingham, just as planned, and Parks was standing with his company, front and center. All two hundred Marines of Company B stood at attention, their eyes staring directly ahead. Everything was in order. The Marine narrator began the ceremony with the proper formalities, and then he stated that, “At this time, Colonel Johnson will award Major Parks with the Meritorious Service Medal.” Johnson walked up to Parks and pinned on the red and white medal, then the two shook hands. Parks knew that this was probably the last time he’d shake his friend’s hand or see him for a long time. Maybe even forever. Colonel Johnson must have been thinking the same thing because he clasped his left hand over both of theirs and nodded his head in a way of showing his gratitude and farewell.
The colonel turned and walked back to his position and then Parks knew it was time to say farewell to his men. Taking in a long breath, he did an about-face and looked directly into the eyes of the men he’d served with, fought with, and respected more than any other unit he’d commanded. “Marines of Bravo Company,” he began. “It gives me great honor to see this entire company in formation, one last time. It reminds me how we have been through hard times, and daring situations, but we have withstood all the blows dealt to us.”
Parks paused and let his next heart-felt words come. “This company has discipline, courage, respect, and the highest regard for our country, more so than any other unit I’ve ever seen. It has been a true honor to command and fight alongside great men like each and every one of you. But like all things, the time must come for an ending. The time is here when your commander must leave, and a new commander must step up and fill his place. I have every faith that all of you will give the new commander everything you gave me.” Parks searched everyone’s face and started to feel more than ever that he did not want to leave. “This nation has been bettered by your unfailing service to her. Likewise, this Marine has been bettered by your unfailing loyalty to him.”
Parks could feel his heart pounding, but no one would ever guess by looking at his calm, collected appearance. He still had a lot to say, but he didn’t know how to say it in a way that would do this outstanding company justice. He tried his best.
“In every Marine’s life, there is a unit, a place, a base, whatever it may be, that stands out in his mind as being the best in his career. The unit that stands out in my mind for being the greatest, is this company. Why? Because not only does every individual here give their all for what they believe in, over and above the call of duty – like every Marine in our great Corps does – but your commitment, courage, and call to serve our country, is greater than any unit I’ve seen. We all believe in keeping the United States a free land, and I have seen all of you fight and risk your very being for that belief. I am touched by your dedication.”
“As a final statement to you, Bravo Company, I choose to wish all of you the most of God’s blessings, and the greatest success in your careers as Marines. You all deserve it. You are the finest bunch of Marines I have ever commanded.” Parks knew this was it. “Semper Fi Marines.”
With that, Parks did an about-face and waited for Captain Harrison to come out of the ranks and stand next to him. As the captain came up to his position on Parks’ left, the narrator introduced him by reading the change of command orders which stated that Parks was being honorably relieved of command, and Harrison was being honorably given command.
When the orders were finished being read, First Sergeant Bingham walked back and retrieved the company’s guidon and brought it to Parks. As he reached out and grasped the pole, he felt a mixed sense of pride and sorrow. He felt like he belonged with these Marines, not over at the Nation’s capital. If he had it his way he’d stay here for the rest of his career. The pride he felt, however, was subduing the sorrow. He felt proud that he had the chance to command these Marines. All of them were true heroes, and he was honored to stand with them and say that he had fought with them.
Parks and Harrison both faced inboard with perfect timing. Loosening his grasp on the flag, Parks extended it to his XO. The captain reached out and took command of the flag while simultaneously taking command of Bravo Company. The two men faced forward again and First Sergeant Bingham took the guidon from Harrison and brought it back to its bearer.
The narrator began to read the message from Colonel Johnson to Captain Harrison, in a clear voice that rang throughout the entire parking lot. “Welcome aboard, Captain Joe M. Harrison,” he read. “It is my honor to see Bravo Company’s commander change from one good Marine to another good Marine. You have received this command because of your excellence in service, and I know you will keep up the good work in your new position. May the Lord bless you in your commanding endeavors. Semper Fi Marine. Signed, Colonel Johnson, U.S.M.C.”
The narrator looked up from the paper and then Parks and Harrison turned to face the company. It was the captain’s time to speak and he began by saying how he was looking forward to commanding them, and how he would lead them to the best of his ability. Parks had every confidence that he would do his best and he would succeed. As Johnson had put it, he was a “good Marine.”
When finished with his speech, Harrison called out in a commanding voice, “First Sergeant, take charge of the company, carry out the plan of the day.”
It seemed as soon as the change of command ceremony had started, it ended. Everything was done and official. The new commander of Bravo Company was Captain Harrison, and Major Keith Parks was headed for Washington D.C.
10
Sunday, March 16th – 0800 hours
Richmond, Virginia
Parks looked out the window of his truck and yawned. He had been up since 0330 preparing for this trip, and he was just now feeling the effects. He was stuck in a traffic jam, and trying to stay awake, which was becoming a difficult task. The days until departure had expired, and now he was heading for his new duty station. After the change of command ceremony the evening had been filled with the movers packing his belongings in boxes, as he tried to keep out last-minute, necessary items for his trip and first few days in D.C. By the next evening, everything was packed and put in the moving truck, which would arrive in D.C. about the same time Parks would. Since he didn’t have a house yet, Parks planned on staying a few nights in a hotel and putting his household belongings in storage until he secured a place.
The only things Parks had brought with him in his truck were his uniforms, a couple changes of clothes, his toiletries, his firearms, and Germ-X. One thing he had in the vehicle that he hoped he wouldn’t need was his personal protection sidearm, a Colt .45 single action revolver, which was stashed in the glove box. Parks was not about to take any chances while in and around the D.C. metropolitan area. There was too much crime for comfort, and the only way to not be a victim was to have a means of defense. For a strong Second Amendment supporter and concealed carry permit holder like himself, that meant a pistol. He loved the old-style revolvers and there wasn’t any other pistol he’d rather have with him for defense than a Colt .45. The gun had been given to him for a birthday present from his parents when he was still a young boy. From years of hard practice, he had learned to shoot it accurately, and now, twenty years later, his marksmanship skills could save his life.
The sun began to rise higher in the sky, and his mind wandered to the future. He wondered what living in D.C. would be like, how his new boss would act, and what his new job would require him to do. Questions like that didn’t have answers yet, but they would soon enough. Tomorrow, Monday the 17th, he would report to the National Security Advisor for duty, and then he’d have answers. It was evident to Parks, however, that he was going to have to work on Saturdays, and maybe Sundays too. This job was probably going to be more than a fulltime deal.
The golden arches of McDonald’s passed by and invited him to breakfast. He had already eaten this morning however, so he resisted the temptation and focused back on the road. Again his mind wandered as he inched forward in the wall-to-
wall traffic jam. He thought of how much fighting had taken place in this state during the Civil War, and how the Confederate States of America had made its capital right here in Richmond. It was hard to believe that about a hundred and fifty years ago, the Nation had rebelled against itself.
He then thought of the tragic day of September, 11th 2001. What a day it was. It had shaken the U.S. like no other time in history. For years following, nothing had ever made up for the attacks on the trade centers. Sure, there was the War on Terrorism, which he’d taken part in, but the war had not been taken seriously for many years. And then President Winnfield had taken office and everything changed. The War on Terrorism was taken to a new level and victory was achieved in record time. But in corners and caves, terrorism still lurked. The terrorists just had to be more careful and they needed to cover their tracks even better than previously done, but they were still alive. Nothing would ever completely eliminate terrorism unless the root of the problem was eliminated from the earth for good. The mindset of jihad was still taught and practiced, and would be until it was finally destroyed. So far, no country had accomplished that mission, but if any nation could do it, it would be the United States of America, and if any man could lead to that achievement, it’d be U.S. President Mark Winnfield.
“What I’d give right now to have a donut,” Parks said aloud, knowing that even though he was hungry, he could not go anywhere to eat because he’d run the risk of not being able to get back on the road due to the intense traffic jam. Instead, Parks grabbed his pocket-size Germ-X. He poured out a generous amount and rubbed it in his hands. He was slightly addicted to using Germ-X. It was so clean and fresh, so invigorating. Parks always had a bottle or two in his pocket, vehicle, and house, always at the ready if he needed a hand cleansing, which he usually did. “Extra Germ-X” certainly lived up to his nickname.