One Man's War

by Thomas J. Wolfenden

  He made his way up the hill, and into the trees, where their hastily dug two-man foxhole was prepared. He dropped into the hole, feeling the coolness of the shade and the moist earth. Seeing all was exactly as Jimenez reported, he set the spool down and laid his M3 Grease gun on the berm.

  Looking around to the front of their position, he double checked that the camouflage was in place, and his fields of fire were clear. Satisfied, and with nothing else to do, he leaned back on the rear wall of the hole, fumbled in a pocket for his pipe, pulled it out and filled the bowl.

  He watched a pair of tiny chipmunks scurry around the base of a ponderosa pine a few feet away, blissfully unaware of him, and of the impending maelstrom that would soon engulf the entire area.

  As he watched the two creatures, a wave of darkness overcame him, and he suddenly felt very tired. Was he doing the right thing? he wondered. Was he throwing everything away? Was it only his pride that he was defending?

  He felt like going back to the house, walking up the stairs to his bedroom, crawling into his bed and going to sleep, to hell with what was left of the world. He puffed on his pipe, clouds of sweet-smelling tobacco smoke surrounding his head, and his mind drifted, back to that very first night so very long ago, when Holly first came to him in the darkness. It seemed like a million years ago now.

  He wanted that time back so badly, a time when he didn’t have a care in the world, where the weight of a thousand freight trains wasn’t resting on his shoulders. Why didn’t everyone just leave him alone! He wanted to scream to the heavens. He knew it wouldn’t do any good, so he smoked his pipe and waited for Jimenez to return.

  He soon spotted the young man, and when Jimenez got to the rim of the pit, he said, “All set,” then dropped down next to Tim.

  When he was settled, Tim pointed to the front of their emplacement.

  “Okay, Taco. I’ll go over it again.” Jimenez grinned. “I’m going to let the lead vehicle, maybe two, get across the span, then I’m going to trip the charges.”

  “Check. I’ll be over at the emplacement with the 240B, and when they start to dismount, I’ll trip the daisy-chain and let loose on the machine gun,” Jimenez recited.

  “Once you’ve gone through one belt of ammo, fall back to the secondary position, and start picking them off with your M14,” Tim continued.

  “Once I start doing that, you’ll call Izzy and Ian on the radio, and they’ll start dropping the rounds on their melons.”

  “Correct. And Taco?”

  “Yeah, Sar’ Major?”

  “I know you’re no grunt, but just think of it like you’re back at the rifle range. One round, one target,” Tim instructed. “Once we’ve expended all of our ammo we’ve got cached at the emplacements, we’ll fall back together to the other position overlooking Route 64.”

  “What if they can regroup here?”

  “I’m hoping they don’t. Between the blast from the bridges blowing, the claymores, mortar rounds dropping on them and our sniping, whatever command and control they have will completely dissolve.”

  “Do you think they’ll come down 64 also?”

  “Maybe, so we’ve got to head back that way fast. I’ll park a Hum-Vee back to our rear about a hundred yards, so we can make a mad dash back.”

  “You got it, Sar’ Major.”

  “The whole point, Taco, is not to let them get anywhere near the houses at Colman Lake.”

  “Can we do it?” Jimenez asked.

  Tim looked back towards the bridges. He pointed out to the spans. “From that bridge westward, we will make them pay, and pay dearly, for every inch of real estate they want. This whole fucking valley will be sopping wet with blood.”

  Jimenez nodded slowly, his face cold and blank, dark eyes smoldering.

  “What is it, Taco?”

  “Aren’t you scared?”

  “I’m scared shitless.”

  “You don’t show it,” Jimenez replied.

  “From the moment I reported to basic training, from my very first day of Ranger School, that day in Grenada, Iraq, Afghanistan, hell, even when I was a cop, I was scared shitless every fucking day,” he said firmly, letting it sink in.

  “You’ve always seemed so brave,” Taco said. “Even when we first met, you know, when I had drawn down on you all in Phoenix? I was the one scared, and you just walked up to me like I was holding a banana, not an M16.”

  “Inside my head, I was shitting my pants.”

  “You sure do hide it well.”

  “It’s not the fear itself; it’s the ability to overcome that fear and ranger up and soldier on, in spite of it.”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do that like you do,” Jimenez said, leaning back on the far wall, and pulling out a bottle of Gatorade. He uncapped it, took a long pull, and then handed the bottle to Tim.

  After he took a swig, Tim handed it back. “Only a fool or a crazy person says they’re not afraid, Taco. You’ve just have to conquer it. It’s all one big mind-fuck, and once you’ve realized that, you’ll have it beat. You did fine on Volivoli, I know you’ll do fine here.”

  “So you’re afraid of dying?” Jimenez asked.

  Tim let out a loud laugh. “Taco, that is the one thing I’m not afraid of. It’s the only inevitable thing in life. We all are going to die at some point.”

  “What about everything else?” “Everything else, Taco? The whole deep question which has kept far smarter men than I awake nights for centuries?”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, I know you don’t believe in God. I don’t either at this point. I think that’s a consensus with everyone these days, but it’s got to mean something!” Jimenez exclaimed.

  “I’ll tell you what I think,” Tim said, refilling his pipe with fresh tobacco. “As long as you’ve tried to live a good life, fought for what you believe is right and just, and left a lasting legacy, the memories of yourself after you go, then that’s all it means.”

  “You want to keep on living, don’t you?”

  “Taco, I’m not getting any younger. My knees are shot, my vision is going, and my hearing is fucked. We’re not built to last,” Tim said with a sad smile. “If I can leave a good world for Robyn, Walter, Holly and yourself, I did goddamn good, and I can die happy. And if I can’t, I’m going to take as many of the motherfuckers with me as I possibly can. I came into this world kicking and screaming, covered in someone else’s blood, I’m not afraid to go out that way either. That’s the one thing I’m not afraid of,” Tim finished, then leaned forward on the berm of the foxhole, looking out over the still and empty highway.

  “You told me that once before, on Volivoli. You know what?” Jimenez said, coming over and leaning forward on the berm also.

  “What’s that, Taco? I’m batshit crazy?”

  “No, that’s not what I was going to say at all.”

  “Then what were you going to say?”

  Jimenez laughed a little. “I grew up in the Barrio in South Phoenix. My padre, my dad, he was a gangbanger. He got killed when I was still a kid. Shitloads of drugs and gang shit. The only way out was the Marines.”

  “I understand.”

  “Tim,” he said, daring to use his first name, “I never had a dad. You’re the closest thing I ever had to one.”

  Tim was dumbstruck. He knew a lot of young soldiers over his career had looked up to him, but this was the first time anyone had ever just come right out and said it.

  “And you, Taco, are the wetback beaner son I’ve never had.”

  “All’s I’m saying… shit, I don’t know what to say,” Jimenez uttered, tears welling up in his dark eyes.

  “All joking aside, Juan, you are like a son to me too. I break your balls all the time because I like you. I may not be around for too much longer, and it’ll be up to you and Robyn to take care of Holly and Walter, and whatever half-breed little yard apes you guys decide to start popping out, okay?”

  “That’s the first time you’ve ever called me Juan,” Jim
enez said with a smile.

  “Don’t get used to it, Taco,” Tim replied. “And remember, it’s up to you to keep the dream alive, got it?”

  “Got it, Dad!”

  “Don’t call me Dad or I’ll tear off your head and shit down your neck.”

  A gentle breeze blew up through the trees, they watched the chipmunks play in the carpet of needles. They looked out on the serene vista before them, lost in their own thoughts for the moment, when Tim’s face grew dark again. He drew in a deep breath, held it, and then let it out in a whoosh of air. He fumbled with his pipe, which had gone out, then turned to face Jimenez.

  “There’s one more thing I need you to do,” Tim said quietly.

  “What is it, Sar’ Major?”

  “It’s very important. I need you to do this, no, you have to do this. No ifs, ands or buts. It’s got to be done.”

  “Anything you want.”

  “In the basement of the house, down where I keep the extra guns and ammo next to the food storage area is a metal shelf. On that shelf is a spare IVIS tablet, and under that is a notebook. If things turn to shit, Taco, I want you to get as far away from here as possible, try to get down to Luke with Ian and Izzy and meet up with the rest of them and the C-130.”

  “Okay,” Jimenez nodded, perplexed.

  “I want you to take the IVIS tablet and that notebook down there to Phoenix, and when you get down there open that notebook up and follow the directions on the first page.”

  “I don’t…” Jimenez started to say, then stopped, his mouth dropping open and the color draining from his face. He stared at Tim for a moment, then said in astonishment, “Fuck me running! You aren’t serious, are you?”

  “I am, and close your mouth or you’ll start collecting flies.”

  “I thought… I thought you said the codes were vaporized along with everything else on Volivoli?”

  “They were,” Tim said flatly.

  “You copied them, didn’t you?”

  “I did.”

  “Why?”

  “I really couldn’t tell you. Something inside me told me to do it, for insurance, I guess.”

  Jimenez leaned against the side of the pit and let out a sigh. He shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know. Shit.”

  “Taco, I need you to do that for me. Do it if I’m killed or captured, okay?”

  “But where?”

  “You know where,” Tim told him.

  “Here? You want me to nuke here?”

  “No, not here, Washington.”

  “You’ve got to be shitting me, right?”

  “No, I’m not shitting you. Just do it, Okay?”

  “Ah shit.”

  “Look, you’re learning to have a lot of responsibility now. A lot more than you or I ever wanted or asked for. Whoever is pulling the strings back in DC doesn’t have everyone’s best interest at heart, that’s a given. You and I want a good life for ourselves and our children. If we let whoever is back there continue, it’ll only get worse, not better. You do that, and then get yourself and the rest back to Oahu.”

  “If that’s the case, why don’t you just launch one right fucking now?” Jimenez demanded.

  “Taco, get ahold of yourself,” Tim said sharply, “I won’t launch one now because that still wouldn’t stop those men coming west. Besides, it might not come to that, alright?”

  “But why—”

  “Listen to me, okay? I’m telling you this for a worst case scenario. Fuck, I’m not even sure any more of them will fly. Back on Volivoli I took a monumental leap of faith that they would, but the next time someone keys in those launch codes, they might not. We’ve got to keep them out of the hands of that person back east, at all costs, that I’m sure of.”

  Jimenez sat down on the floor of the foxhole, his hands shaking uncontrollably. Tim looked down at the younger man, and softened his voice considerably. “Taco, it’s nowhere near certain. I hope to fuck you don’t have to, but if things turn bad here, take the codes and the IVIS, get down to the plane and do it, then make your way to Oahu. Build it back up, like we all wanted, like we’ve talked about so many times in the past. A few minutes ago you asked about fear, and I told you that you’d have to learn to conquer those fears. This is the time, right now, where the rubber meets the road.”

  “Okay, Sar’ Major,” he replied, standing up. “I hope the fuck it doesn’t come down to that. Nobody else knows?”

  “No, only you and I.”

  “Okay. okay, I’ll do it.”

  “Once the mortar rounds start falling on their grapes, they might run away. We just don’t know.”

  “We’ll make em’ bleed, eh?” Jimenez asked, fire back in his voice now.

  “Abso-fucking-lutely!” Tim reassured placed his hand on the man’s shoulder to comfort him. “Are you okay now?”

  “Yeah, I’m good to go, Sar’ Major.”

  “Let’s get our shit secured here and get back to the house.”

  “Sure thing,” Jimenez said, climbing out of the hole, and picking up his rifle.

  As Tim was climbing out, the two men heard an approaching Hum-Vee and they spun towards the direction of the noise.

  The Hum-Vee skidded loudly to a stop, and Robyn rushed out, carrying an M4 carbine.

  “Dad! Taco!” she shouted. “Dad!” she gasped. “I’ve got news!”

  “What is it?” he asked when she got close enough they didn’t have to shout.

  “I just heard over the sat-radio on the frequency that guy gave us that they’re in Flagstaff!”

  “Taco,” Tim said, “you take the deuce back to the house, and I’ll go with Robyn.”

  “Got it!” he replied, and bounded down the hill past Robyn without saying a word.

  Tim picked up his M3 and led the way back towards the Hum-Vee. “Anything else?”

  “Not much. I think they’re going to camp out for the night there, then come at us in the morning.”

  He hopped into the still-running vehicle. Jimenez blew past them in a cloud of black diesel exhaust, and Robyn fell in behind him on the cracked and rotting asphalt.

  Tim sat in the passenger seat, silent, a million things running through his mind. When they turned onto the off-ramp to Williams, he asked, “Anything more you can tell me?”

  “Whelp,” she replied, “I didn’t get any names. Their radio procedure is shit, the main guy in charge is a major, and there’s another fuckwit the major is calling ‘sergeant’.”

  “Any ideas where they’re going?”

  “Yeah,” she said angrily. “They know exactly where the fuck we’re at. They mentioned Colman Lake, the C-130, Tusayan, everything!”

  “Un-good,” was all he uttered.

  “Yeah, un-good. It sounds like they’re going to split up, come in from the north over Route 89 and here to the east on 40,” she said, speeding through town.

  “Do you have your bug-out bag packed?”

  “I packed up a few things this morning when you and Taco were playing with the explosives.”

  “What about Holly?” he asked. When he didn’t get a reply right away, he looked over at the girl, and repeated himself. “What about Holly?”

  “She says she’s not going,” Robyn replied sheepishly.

  “What?” Tim exploded. “When the fuck did she tell you that?”

  “Right before I came out to get you. She said she’s sending Walt with me in the plane, that I’m competent enough to get it to Luke, but she’s staying with you.”

  “The fuck she is!”

  “Dad, don’t shoot the messenger!”

  “Goddamn it! All this, and now I’ve got to deal with this bullshit!” he shouted.

  Robyn pulled the Hum-Vee up to the front of the house and Tim leapt out of the vehicle without waiting for it to stop. He bounded the steps onto the porch, threw open the screen door, and entered the house, calling out for Holly. He heard noises up in the direction of the bedrooms, so he took the stairs two at a time, marching down the s
hort hall to the bedroom that he and Holly shared.

  Bursting in, he found Holly seated on the edge of the bed, Walter in her arms, breast exposed. His son was suckling on the nipple greedily, not a care in the world, totally oblivious to what was coming.

  Holly looked up at him with tears in her eyes as he stood angrily in the middle of the room, hands balled into fists at his side. He looked at them both for a moment, and then finally said, “What’s this bullshit Robyn told me, that you’re not going?”

  “Tim, Robyn can fly the plane down to Luke. I’m staying with you.”

  “Goddamn it! I want you and Walt safe!”

  “Now you listen here!” she said loudly, still comforting the child in her arms. “I left you once, and that was a big mistake. I’m not going to do it again!”

  Tim reached over to her and gently took his son in his arms, holding him close to his chest. He looked down on the tiny, innocent life in his hands and smiled sadly.

  “Babe, I understand that. Really I do. But the time for all of that is over. You need to leave right now, you and the rest. They’re already in Flagstaff, and will probably be here by mid-morning tomorrow. I don’t want any arguments, please.”

  “I need to be with you.”

  “Walter needs his mom. If you stay here, there’s a very real possibility that he’ll lose both his parents tomorrow. Don’t you see that?”

  “He’ll have Robyn,” she said in a tiny voice.

  “He should have you.”

  “Tim,” she said, standing and coming up to him. “I thought I lost you once, on Volivoli. I can’t bear the thought of losing you again.”

  “It can’t be helped. You need to get out of here right fucking now!”

  She rubbed his unshaven cheek. “Babe, I can’t leave you.”

  “You’re going to have to,” he said, handing his son back to her. She took the infant, and held it close, kissing the top of his head.

  “It’s all so quick,” she said after a few moments, “Tim, do you remember the first night I came to you?”

  “Yes, I do,” he said, the memory coming back to him for a second time that day.

  “If I have to go, Tim, if I’ve got to leave you, and possibly never see you again, I want one more night like that,” she said, choking back tears.