Going Home (Soldier Up Book 3)

by Steven Linde

  General Watkins had put Admiral Meyer in contact with Davis-Monthon Air Force Base, where the Air Force was finding older aircraft such as P-51 Mustangs and restoring them. Because of that, Davis-Monthon had been able to immediately send six P-51’s to North Island for their use. They were flown out by Air Force pilots and two of those pilots remained behind as Instruction Pilots (IP) to familiarize Navy pilots with the aircraft. Admiral Meyers had also sent out mechanics to the Air Force Base so they could be trained to repair all of the old aircraft.

  There were also aircraft flying in from the Hornet day and night, and Admiral Meyer was able to catch a ride out and meet with Admiral Walcom. It was a cordial meeting, with Admiral Walcom recognizing that Admiral Meyer was his superior. To Admiral Meyer’s credit he never pressed or even mentioned the issue or rank at all. Admiral Meyer was a shrewd military politician, and he knew when he needed to press the action, retreat from it, or let it be. This was one of those times he needed to let it be, they were in the middle of a war and Admiral Walcom and General Watkins had everything well in hand. He wasn’t going to be the one to rock the boat.

  The fleet was almost a hundred miles north of them as the Marines pushed in from Los Angeles. The ships would also be able to move in support of the current campaign. The Marines were expected to make twenty-five to thirty miles a day at a minimum. It was possible they could be at the gates of Camp Pendleton in a day, but no one knew what they would run into. The B-52 bombings of the HLA lines along the northern boundary of Camp Pendleton had devastated the HLA. After the bombing, the Marines had been able to move back into the areas they had lost, and there were hundreds not a thousand dead HLA members scattered every place they looked. As they came to them they searched the bodies and took any identification and documents they could find. They then buried the body and made sure they marked it.

  After the bombing raid many HLA members re-thought about their allegiance to the cause, especially if the other side could rain down so much death and they were helpless to fight it. In addition, word had quickly spread that thousands of Marines had landed in Los Angeles with tanks, artillery, and other vehicles. They had killed El Jefe easy enough, and were now on their way here. There were rumors flying that the Marines were killing anyone that looked at them the wrong way, like Sherman through Georgia. Everything was good with the HLA members because when they thought they had the upper hand no one told them they would have to fight additional Marines with tanks and bombers.

  Chapter Twenty

  Because of the buffer between Los Angeles and San Diego, the Mexican Army had no idea what was happening north of Camp Pendleton. General Maximillian Garcia was consolidating forces for what he considered a final assault on Camp Pendleton. He wanted to kill all the gringos and rid his land of the vermin. He also wasn’t aware that the Mexican Army east of him had been devastated, meaning they were no longer and effective force. The area was now being reinforced by US Army troops from Fort Huachuca.

  The Cartel henchman were not working well with the Army. Too many people wanted to be in charge once the gringos were all killed. The Cartels knew that General Garcia wouldn’t let them divide up the state, and they would have to defeat him right after they defeated the Marines. The civilians were caught in the middle. It was a marriage of convenience, and both sides knew that as soon as the first goal was accomplished they would have to slug it out with each other.

  For now the lines had settled right below Oceanside. The Mexican Army and Cartel Soldiers hadn’t been able to advance or retreat. There were several Cartels involved in the fight, each one with a leader, but for the time being they all agreed that General Garcia would call the shots as long as his placement of Soldiers and missions were fair and the Cartel Soldiers weren’t being used as cannon fodder. General Garcia had sent runners back to Tijuana and Mexicali to ask for more Soldiers. He also went to the various Cartel leaders and told them to have more of their Soldiers sent. This was going to be the final push to oust the Marines from their land. As General Garcia made plans for the final push, the Cartels made plans that once the General was able to overcome the Marines, they would then assassinate the General and the Cartel would take his place. The only question was which Cartel.

  The Mexican Federal Police Force, newly rebuilt from local civilians, had taken over the internal security and were herding the gringos and placing them in slave labor camps. One of the things that surprised the General and his staff was that many of these civilians of Mexican descent didn’t consider themselves Mexicans, and when given the chance to swear their loyalty to Mexico they chose not to. They were Americans and would always be Americans. “So be it,” said the General, and he had them all thrown in with the rest of the POWs.

  The Mexican Security Forces were searching the homes in each area and taking what they found valuable, which in many instances was anything that wasn’t nailed down. They were sure they could find a use for it or send it back to Mexico. In reflection, the event wasn’t as catastrophic for Mexico as it was for the United States. Mexico was a third world country and it was much easier for them to adjust to the loss of electricity and water, as many people didn’t have it. Many drove older cars that weren’t affected by the event and many communities gathered water from community wells or by other means.

  As far as General Garcia was concerned, things were moving along just fine and his plan to reunite at least all of Southern California back into the Mexican fold was at hand. The weapons they would capture when they overran Camp Pendleton would be more than enough to take the rest of California, Arizona and New Mexico, soon he believed.

  By the end of the week more Mexican troops from the Army, Navy Marines, and Cartels began to arrive. The biggest problem that the General saw was integrating the fresh Soldiers into existing units that didn’t really want non-combat tested Soldiers. However as he had to remind the commanders, they weren’t combat tested either when this all first started. He ordered the commanders to take them, train them, and prepare for the assault which would be coming soon.

  Along with the troop reinforcement came five new artillery pieces, a 155mm that had been brought from Mexico City. The new field pieces were very welcome; the only problem was that the amount of ammunition they sent with them was insufficient to carry on a sustained assault on the base. Regardless, he sent them on to the respective units and told the Commanders to use them to the best of their ability.

  There were more vehicles arriving with M1 Carbines and WWII Springfield rifles, like the field pieces, but the ammunition they sent for them was limited. They had also sent up some old Willy’s Jeeps and trucks, and the General wondered if they were raiding museums? He was happy to have everything but a lot of it was crap. He would hand it out to the Soldiers to be used, they needed the weapons. The older weapons would go to the new civilian recruits. The Soldiers that had arrived from Mexico had brought their own issued weapons and ammunition.

  The General had met with his staff to plan out the final assault. They agreed that it would kick off in seventy-two hours with an artillery assault on the Marine lines. They would use everything they had until it ran out. It would also allow the ground forces to move closer to the Marines under cover of the artillery, assuming now fell short and killed their own men.

  From all of the reports that the General was receiving, the Marines were in terrible shape and their lines were crumbling from the continuous assaults by the Mexican Army. They had certainly given a lot of ground of the past weeks. His forces were performing magnificently. The other reports were that the Marines were running short on food, water and ammunition. More recent reports stated that the Hispanic Liberation Army in the North had been wildly successful in pushing the Marines back to the center of the base, setting it on fire and demolishing everything in sight as they came to it.

  The General had no idea that the information he was receiving was false, and no one wanted to tell him the truth. The first four Commanders that told him the truth the General had t
hem executed, which of course had the consequence of the other Commanders no longer wanting to tell him the truth. They told him what he wanted to hear. For instance, the Hispanic Liberation Army no longer existed, and they were wiped out to the last man and woman by the oncoming Marines out of Los Angeles. The General’s goal for now was to connect to the HLA at mid-base and join forces.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The Camp Parks Newspaper, Stars and Stripes, obituary read:

  Mellissa (Gray) Clayton passed away last night at her home on Camp Parks. She is survived by her husband Colonel John Clayton and their children Kai and Morgan. Mellissa, commonly referred to as Mel by her friends and co-workers, was a cancer survivor prior to the event, over the past months her cancer had returned and with no modern medicine or treatment available it took her this past Sunday night.

  Mel was the catalyst that brought many communities back from the brink after the event. She organized community outreach programs that are still being used by the United States Military and communities that have been re-established after the event.

  Services will be held at the Chapel on Camp Parks this coming Saturday at 10:00 for those interested in attending.

  John was a combat veteran, and as a combat veteran he had learned years ago to compartmentalize his emotions when men and women in his command were lost. This was different though, and there was no compartmentalizing the loss of Mel. He loved her with all of his heart. She is what he lived for, her and the kids; it’s what made him get up for work in the morning and try to build a new society, all for his family. The cancer had been eating away at Mel for months, and when she died they knew her pain was over and she had gone to a better place. Her quality of life was non-existent, so when she past they knew that she was no longer in pain. It did make losing her a bit easier, yet it didn’t take away all of the pain.

  John and the kids were at her bedside all day Sunday holding her hand and talking to her. Mel wasn’t conscience at all anymore and her breathing was shallow all day long. She never woke up. The doctors told them to keep talking to her regardless she was listening. That night at 1900 she silently passed away, no more pain, and they were happy for her and sad for the loss of their mother and wife. It was another loss due to the event, at least that’s how they saw it, because they believed that if she had chemo and radiation therapy she would still be alive, even though the doctor insisted it was unlikely.

  The family sat with her for an hour after she passed, and the tears had flowed and hearts were broken. The medics had arrived to take her to the Army Morgue on post to prepare the body for burial. After the ceremony at the Chapel on Saturday her body would be interned in the posts cemetery. After they picked up Mel, the family retreated to individual spots to reflect on their loss; both John and the kids would each handle it differently.

  The Army takes care of its own. After the passing of Mel, friends and colleagues came over bringing all sorts of food to ensure the family was taken care of. Any appointments or errands that needed to be taken care of were done by friends. Any appointments that the kids needed to go to was also being done by friends. People were there to help. John had a funeral to plan and it was already difficult.

  The days leading up to the funeral were drawn out and slow, John and the kids couldn’t stay busy enough. The house was quiet at night. John cooked dinner for the kids and they all sat down to eat at 1800, and no one spoke a word. After dinner the kids did the dishes and went to their rooms on their own. The march to Saturday continued, so John returned to his office to catch up and read through many of the reports from the Midwest and Southern California operations. For the next couple of days he buried himself in his work, taking him away from the kids that ended up fending for themselves.

  Colonel March returned to base Friday morning and dropped by the Clayton’s residence to pay his respects to the family, only to find the kids locked away in their rooms studying for school with John nowhere in sight. Colonel March also noticed the house was a mess, not to mention the kitchen looked like someone had tossed in a hand grenade. He spoke to the kids and found out their dad hadn’t been around for the last two and a half days, as he was at work. Colonel March believed that was all sorts of wrong, and he told the kids their dad would be home in an hour or so. He asked them if they were ready for the funeral tomorrow, and both responded they weren’t and didn’t really know what they needed to do. Colonel March gave the kids of list of things he wanted them to do, starting with cleaning the house from top to bottom because there were going to be lots of people coming over after the funeral. He also instructed them to get out their best clothes and make sure they were ready for the morning. The kids nodded and were actually too happy to have some direction. As he was leaving he said he would be back in a couple of hours to check on everyone. Colonel March left the house and headed straight to their offices. He was pissed off.

  As Colonel March drove to their HQ, he decided to stop off at the comm center; there was something he needed to do there and after that he would stop for a few minutes at the Provost Marshall’s Office. He didn’t expect either stop to take too long, but he realized that he was going to need some sort of backup. Although John was his friend, he was still his boss and if he approached the matter incorrectly he may end up in the stockade.

  His stop at the comm center took thirty minutes and he was on his way. The stop at the Provost Marshalls Office took fifteen minutes. In another ten minutes he pulled up in front of the HQ and headed into the building. Colonel March strode down the hallway to Colonel Claytons office. The door was open and he saw that John had his nose buried deep in reports. He knocked on the door jamb startling Colonel Clayton. Colonel Clayton smiled at his friend. “Hey Colonel what’s shaking?”

  Colonel March took three very large steps to Colonel Clayton’s desk and tossed down a paper. “What’s this?” asked John. He picked up the document and read through it.

  “There orders from General Watkins placing you on emergency leave indefinitely effective now. The order goes so far to state that you are not allowed a hundred yards from any military operations or field activity.”

  “This is bullshit Colonel!” said Colonel Clayton.

  Colonel March whistled and three very large MPs came into the office. “General Watkins has ordered the Provost Marshall to enforce his order and these men here are going to escort you out of the building and home right now.”

  “Colonel I need this right now.” There were tears running down Colonel Clayton’s face.

  “No John what you need is your family right now, and those kids need their dad. We’ll get along until you’re able to return, you’ve done a great job preparing everyone around you to run operations in the event anything ever happened to you.”

  John Clayton stared at Colonel March, then looked over the orders, then looked at the MPs. He gathered up his stuff and walked out from around his desk and stood right in front of Colonel March.

  “Thanks Colonel I appreciate it, I really do.” With that, Colonel Clayton marched out of the office being followed by the three MPs.

  The following morning at 0900 a military limousine arrived at the Claytons to pick them up and take them to the Chapel. The Claytons were very stoic and arrived at the Chapel fifteen minutes prior to the beginning of the funeral, with the children were holding their father’s hand as they entered. They moved together as a family down the center of the aisle and took the seats in the front pew. The Chapel was packed, not an empty seat with probably another hundred or so standing outside the Chapel. Mel had touched so many lives, and everyone wanted an opportunity to say good-bye. All eyes were on the children and John as the entered the Chapel and found their seats.

  It began right on time, it was a military Chapel. There were several speakers that spoke the praises of Mel. The last speaker was John; he stood, pulled down his Class A jacket and marched to the podium. John looked out over the Chapel, many of the people he didn’t recognize. He knew that she was a special woma
n and had reached out to so many. He looked down at the prepared words he had put together last night, and he then looked back out over the crowd, thinking. He then took the page he wrote and crumpled it up and tossed it over his shoulder.

  “Thank you all for coming.” said John. “I had something prepared to say today and the more I thought about it Mel would have liked for me to speak straight from the heart. So here it is.” John was looking at the kids. “Mel was my heart and soul. As bad as it is she really blossomed after the event finding her true calling. She saw a need with all of the people suffering and she moved to action far quicker than myself or anyone else. She never turned her back on anyone that needed help. She is as much responsible for bringing back all of these bases and communities as all of us men and women under arms.

  “Mel was my inspiration the reason I got up every morning.” Looking at the kids, tears streaming down his face. “She gave me two wonderful kids, and her spirit will always live through them. Every time I look at them or hear them laugh I hear her; it’s the most wonderful thing. She lives in our hearts every day.” By now the kids are crying with their father, it was all part of the grieving process. Out in front of the Chapel a bugler started to play taps, the Army was sending her out as one of their own. John left the podium and walked over to the children, knelt down and hugged them, kissing each on the cheeks.

  John returned to his seat, the Soldiers of the funeral detail entered the Chapel dressed sharply in their dress uniform with medals and badges gleaming. They marched in two lines to Mel’s flag draped coffin a squad of men on each side. An officer standing off quietly but with force ordered the men to lift the coffin, and they did in unison, they were immediately transformed into pallbearers. They maneuvered the coffin off its pedestal and marched with it out of the chapel, with the Officer in the rear. As the pallbearers moved passed the people sitting in the pews the people stood as they passed. Then they fell in behind the procession.