by Saxon Andrew
“I don’t think so, Mom. Harvard is going to be hard enough to make the grades I’ll need to get into medical school and being chased by every boy looking for pretty legs will be a distraction. I’ve endured that all through high school and I want to head this problem off before it starts.”
April looked at the outfits laid out on the bed and said, “Well, you’ll still be chased even if you try to hide your body; you’re just too beautiful.”
“Thanks, Mom, but you’re slightly prejudiced.”
“No, I’m not. Your face is perfect. You certainly didn’t get it from me.”
Cynthia smiled and hugged her mother, “Now whose being dishonest?” Cynthia straightened up and walked over and looked in the mirror. She took a breath and blew it out, “I think you’re right; I need something to change my appearance.”
April stood and said, “Wait here just a minute.” She left the room and came back with a small bag. She opened it and took out a pair of huge black rimmed glasses. She put them on Cyn and then took out an artist’s beret and put it on after she pushed Cynthia’s blonde hair up under it. “What do you think?”
Cynthia looked at herself in the mirror and saw a stranger looking back at her. She laughed and said, “I look like a real geek. Where did you get these?”
“They were part of a costume I wore back in high school. We had a day where everyone dressed up like a geek. You do look like a bookworm librarian.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ve got to find some more outfits. These two just won’t be enough.”
“If you’re trying to go unnoticed, you don’t want a lot of different outfits.”
“I don’t?”
“No, you want several outfits that are all the same. If you wear the same thing every day, you’ll just disappear in the crowd. People notice when you look difference.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because one of the very plain girls in school always wore the same outfit and no one ever noticed her. One day she wore something different and every girl in the school immediately saw it. The boys didn’t but the girls did.” April paused, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Mom, you met him. What do you think?”
April smiled, “You’re just so young and you will change as you mature, Cynthia. How can you be so certain about this?”
Cynthia touched her heart with her right hand, “Because he fills me up here.” Then she touched her head, “And he amazes me here. He is so much smarter than I am and I look forward to learning so much from him over the years.”
April wrapped her arms around her daughter and said, “That’s good enough for me.” She stepped back and said, “Let’s do this the right way. Let’s go down town and find the right outfit to make this happen.”
Cynthia squealed and said, “Shopping is my life. Let’s go.”
Cynthia kept the outfit on and April furrowed her brow, “I might as well get used to it.”
“Cynthia, you know your cover will be blown if anyone decided to look at your year book. They’ll see how beautiful you are.”
“Welllll…I’ve kinda taken care of that.”
“How?”
“Robert is the president of the photography club and he removed every picture of me before it was sent out. Even my class picture is blank.”
“Cynthia, you just destroyed everything that you’ve accomplished.”
“Mom, it’s high school. What I do with the rest of my life is what is going to really matter.”
April smiled and said, “Let’s go shopping.”
• • •
Basic Training was rapidly coming to an end. Frank’s platoon was in the barracks getting ready for lights out and De la Toree said, “What is this thing we’re doing tomorrow?”
Chen said, “It’s called the Hell from Run.”
“Don’t you mean Run from Hell?”
“Nope, the recruits named it years ago and the name fits.”
Johnson said, “Have any of you wondered why we are always the last one in on everything?”
Several voices answered, “I wondered about that? So have I? Why is that?”
“The platoons used to almost come to blows on who went first, second, and so on. This little run was developed to determine what the platoon’s position would be for the next class.”
“What do you mean, Johnson?”
“My brother went through basic two years ago and he told me that whatever platoon wins, will always go first. The one that comes in second will always go second.”
“Are you saying that Sgt. Weber’s platoon came in last?”
“They did.”
“How do they make that determination?”
“Which ever platoon completes the run with the most boots, wins.”
“What if two tie?”
“The one with the best time wins.”
Silence ruled the room until Clarke said, “Fourteen miles with a full backpack is more than I can do.”
AG said, “Then you won’t do it tomorrow.”
Clarke looked sharply over at AG and said, “Gardner, I have trouble with the five mile runs; fourteen is unimaginable to me.”
“And that is why you’ll fail tomorrow, Clarke.”
Clarke stared at AG and the room was silent. Finally Clarke said, “You told me after you kicked my butt that I was only a mere fighter and would never be a warrior. I’ve really wondered what you meant by that? Is this part of being a mere fighter?”
AG sat up on his bed and said, “Clarke, you’re not the same person that came here, little more than a bully. You’ve changed and I think all of us have seen it.” Several voices agreed with AG. Chen said, “You’re a better man now, Clarke.”
Clarke said, “So tell me what you meant by a mere fighter and why I’ll fail.”
AG looked around the room and saw everyone looking at him. “How many of you enlisted instead of being drafted?” Half of the platoon raised their hands. AG looked around and said, “You have chosen the occupation of a soldier. You’ve deliberately made the decision to fight. Some of you elected to fight because you are warriors. For you, there was no other choice you could have made.”
Stuart asked, “What’s the difference between a soldier and a warrior?”
AG smiled and said, “Intent.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
AG smiled, “A warrior’s quest in life is to make the world a better place than he found it. They will defend those that are unable to defend themselves. They will not fight anyone weaker than them because fighting weaker opponents will only weaken a warrior. Only in self-defense or having no other choice will the true warrior fight a weaker opponent.”
Rory said, “You’d let some punk push you around?”
“If he was no match for me, I would. When you allow your ego to direct your actions you are headed toward trouble. A warrior is directed by his principles and doesn’t need outside affirmation for him to excel. Following those principles is what will strengthen him.” AG paused, “The other thing a warrior does that a soldier doesn’t is that he will work his entire life to perfect the skills necessary to make him highly proficient in his chosen occupation. Soldiers want to avoid runs; warriors embrace them. Clarke, why would a warrior do that?”
Clarke stared at AG and finally said, “Because if he can run further, he will be stronger.”
AG smiled, “Exactly right. A warrior will push himself to the absolute limit of his endurance and limits because he knows the effort will make him stronger. There is no off time for a warrior; he is always working to improve his skills.”
“So why will I fail tomorrow, Gardner?”
“Because you refuse to see yourself succeeding.” Clarke stared at AG and remained silent. The entire room thought about what Gardner was saying. AG finally said, “Clarke, if no one ever completed the run, a warrior would do their utmost to be the first. But that’s not the case here. Johnson, how many completed the run in the winning platoon?”
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“My brother said sixteen were able to cross the line.”
AG looked back at Clarke, “You’re basically saying that every one of those sixteen are stronger than you. I just couldn’t allow myself to think that way. If the run is doable, I intend to do it faster. I will not accept anything less from myself.”
Everyone in the room had no doubt that Gardner could, and was, going to do it. AG fell back on his bunk and the lights went out. The normal chit-chat was absent that night as the forty men thought about the concepts they had just heard.
• • •
The next day Weber’s platoon was in ranks at the starting line on the last track. Six half mile tracks were laid out and six platoons would all start together. The sun was high and the temperature was up. Chen said, “It would have been nice to have done this in the morning.”
Johnson yelled, “That comes with being first. These six are the worst from last year.”
Thomason said, “Look at all of those in the infield.” Hundreds of boots were being tended to by medics in the infields. There were hundreds struggling to get up.
AG said, “You’re looking at the wrong group. Look behind you.” Everyone turned and saw the boots being congratulated on completing the run. They were being served ice water and fruit. “You can only do it if you see yourself doing it.”
Sgt. Weber came up and said, “Give me your best. First place so far is a new record of twenty completing the run. That’s never been done before. I believe you can do it.”
Major Hamlin yelled, “Platoons!”
Six platoon leaders echoed him, “Platoon!”
“At the double time, March!”
Weber’s platoon moved forward, following AG. The full backpacks were a heavy load but the first mile went by uneventfully. At three miles, they made the turn and saw numerous soldiers that had fallen out of ranks in the platoons running next to them. AG said, “Look straight ahead and see what success looks like in your teammate.”
The other five platoons had all lost runners at the five mile mark but AG saw that the platoon was holding up. More and more fell out of the platoons next to them but at the half way point, Weber’s platoon had not lost a member. At the nine mile mark, most of the other five platoons were down to half their numbers. AG saw that several were starting to struggle. He moved from the front of the platoon and went back to where Rory was struggling, “You can do this. Forget your body, it’s a nuisance; concentrate on the man in front of you and move your shoulders with his. Forget everything else, concentrate on his shoulders.”
The platoon turned eleven miles and many were starting to stumble. They heard AG in front yelling, “You can do this. You must believe in yourself and your team. Don’t give in.”
Don Stuart’s ribs were causing him agony. He yelled, “Gardner, my ribs are killing me.”
AG ran back and said, “When you have a Vietcong bullet through your shoulder, you’re going to have to forget the pain to save yourself. Can you run for your life if you had no other choice? Could you? I know you have it in you.”
The rest of the platoon stared chanting, ‘Stuart, Stuart, Stuart…”
Don heard them and forgot his pain, “I’m back with you. Let’s do this thing together.”
The other runners heard Don and grew strength from his courage. They turned the thirteen mile marker and no one had dropped out. Frank watched his men run and saw the difference Gardner was making. He was humbled by what he was witnessing. He looked across the parade ground and saw hundreds of boots running out. Word had spread that a platoon was into the last mile and had not lost a man. They came running up and started cheering them on. The roar grew and soon all the boots were there not believing what they were witnessing. The platoon’s time was four minutes faster than any other platoon’s and they were down to the last eight hundred yards.
Suddenly, Angel Avielle passed out and started to fall. Clarke reached over and grabbed him by his shoulder. Rory grabbed his other shoulder with his good arm and they pulled him toward the finish line. The platoon crossed the finish line and every one of them collapsed to the ground unable to move. AG sat on the ground smiling and said, “I knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you.”
Major Hamlin was there watching the unbelievable happen and saw the platoon’s pride at what the private had said. This private was someone that needed to be watched. He was something different. He turned to Frank and said, “Congratulations, Sergeant. I’m impressed with the private that led them.”
Frank smiled and said, “Sir, we have all been impressed by Private Gardner.”
The platoon was lifted by the other boots and carried to the water barrels. They all knew that this platoon’s accomplishment would be remembered by other classes and they were a part of that success. Weber’s platoon would no longer be last but were given the first place ranking until another platoon beat their accomplishment. Weber knew that would never happen.
• • •
The next morning, Frank went out and found his platoon waiting in ranks for their morning run. He was shocked. They had been given the day off in recognition of their accomplishment. He went over and said, “What are you doing out here. You’ve been given the day off for free time.”
Clarke yelled out from the ranks, “You don’t get better by being lazy, Sir.”
Frank smiled and said, “Gardner, I’ll take them out.”
“Sir, yes Sir.” AG moved into the ranks and promptly disappeared from Frank’s view. “How in the heck does he do that?”
The other platoons watched them pass and heard them singing out their songs to keep cadence. They could see the pride the group felt and they knew something special had happened in Sgt. Weber’s Platoon. Everyone knew they had been given the day off but chose to run instead. A legend began that day of a private that was more than just a soldier. The code of a warrior started circulating among the other platoons. Gardner was a name they all vowed to watch.
• • •
“Congratulations, Gardner.”
“Thank you, Sergeant. You’ve been a great help.”
“Now we both know better than that. However, there is the one remaining detail.”
AG stared at Frank, “And that would be…”
“I have a nephew here in training. He’s assigned to Sergeant Dolan’s platoon. His name is Charles Weston and I just want one thing from you.”
“I know him.”
“You do?”
“I met him on the bus ride here. Boy can he talk.”
Frank smiled, “Charlie has never met a stranger. Gardner, I am pulling strings to get the two of you assigned to the same platoon. I want your promise to see that he comes home alive.”
AG slowly shook his head, “That is not something I can control, Sergeant.”
“Gardner, I think you control more things than I know but I want your promise you’ll take care of him.”
AG slowly shook his head and said, “I’ll do what I can but I don’t control destiny.”
“That’s not good enough. I want your promise.”
AG stared Frank in the eyes and finally said, “I promise to do all I can to make sure he comes home. I can’t do more than that.”
Frank put out his hand and said, “That’s good enough for me. Good luck. My sister would never forgive me or herself if something happened to Charlie. I’m getting you out of here tonight, the Major wants to discuss Officer Candidate School with you and I think I know what your answer will be.”
“I’m not ready for that.”
“I thought you’d say that. You and Charlie will be out at eight this evening. I have you on a cargo plane headed to Nam. Look for Sergeant Major Omaha when you arrive.”
“I don’t get time to go home before I ship out?”
“You can go home if you want but you’ll end up in O.C.S. if you stick around.”
AG missed Cynthia but she was in her first week at Harvard and he knew she wouldn’t really have much time for him. “Where�
��s the bus?”
Frank smiled, “You can’t miss it. C-124 parked next to the service hangar.”
AG nodded and stuck out his hand. Frank shook it and said, “Keep me in the loop on what’s happening.”
“I’ll do what I can Sergeant. Would you do me a favor?”
“What is that?”
“I have a package being shipped here; can you make sure I get it?”
“I will. I know how to make that happen. What’s in it?”
AG smiled, “My knives.”
Frank slowly shook his head and said, “Good-luck, keep your head down.”
AG smiled and headed toward the runway.
• • •
Cynthia was on her bed studying her assignments from the first day of class. She had spoken to AG for an hour and she missed him so much. She felt her tears and wiped them away; first chemistry. She heard the screams from other freshmen women outside her door that were being selected by sororities for membership. No one had approached her and truth be told, most of them actively avoided her. None of them wanted a plain Jane in their ranks. She thought about it and wondered if she had made a good decision about her appearance. She got up after an hour and walked over to the student center and ordered a salad and lemonade. The two girls in front of her in the line were approached by several fraternity members and pressured to come to their frat house on the weekend. They wouldn’t take no for an answer and the two freshmen finally relented and agreed to go. The two girls were quite pretty and she noticed that one of them glanced at her and turned his head quickly. Cynthia decided that it was the large black rim glasses that did the trick. Now she was certain she had made a good decision. She went back to her books and the next day impressed her professors with her knowledge if not her appearance. She was off and running at Harvard.
Four weeks into her first quarter, Cynthia had made a friend of another girl who was also a plain Jane but was brilliant in the arts. It was a match made in heaven in that each of them complimented each other. Cynthia helped her with chemistry and Emily helped her with art and language classes.
They sat in the student center between classes as students rushed by. Emily observed that they were ignored by almost every male that walked by. She smiled and said, “How many dates have you been asked out on?”