Coalition Defense Force Boxed Set: First to Fight

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Coalition Defense Force Boxed Set: First to Fight Page 52

by Gibbs, Daniel


  David sat and thought about MacIntosh’s words. Logically, they were on point. However, logic failed him. The deep depression that had swept over him simply couldn’t be brushed away with positive thoughts.

  Forcing himself to stay on task for the rest of the morning, he worked through personnel transfers and reviewed requests for additional equipment and supplies. When his communicator reminded him it was 1200 hours, he left his office and made his way back to his cabin to prepare for the funerals later that afternoon.

  * * *

  David felt completely lost, gazing across a sea of polished white marble crosses, Stars of David, crescents and stars, and assorted other tombstones. Determined to honor his best friend, he stood with many other mourners, including Ruth, Hanson, Calvin, Tinetariro, Tural, Amir, and Hammond.

  Sheila had been turned into a Coalition-wide hero, and her funeral was evidence of that. President Spencer was in attendance, and many of the Joint Chiefs of Staff were with him. But David couldn’t care less about how many brass attended the funeral. All he wanted to do was honor his best friend and the woman to whom he’d never allowed himself to express his love. Now that it was too late, he wished he could just talk to her one last time, tell her he loved her, and try to find some way to make it all right again.

  The Coalition Defense Force has pulled out all the stops, David thought as a caisson drawn by a team of four horses came into view down the dusty road through the cemetery. A riderless horse, the symbol of a fallen leader, followed it. As the caisson drew to a stop, the honor guard approached it, exchanging salutes with the officer in charge and the chaplain. The team removed the casket with slow, military precision. The chaplain then led the way to the gravesite, followed by the honor guard, then Sheila’s family, and finally, the rest of the mourners.

  Sheila’s was the third funeral David had attended that day. The first two were for crew members who’d died on the Lion and Hadi Uzun. Tears had been shed at those services, but David was beginning to shut down emotionally. He kept going back to Why? Why her? Sheila had made a decision not to sacrifice someone else. Part of him wished she had, but he also knew that the very thing that made her unwilling to sacrifice another was what he loved so much about her.

  David’s thoughts continued to wander as the honor guard set the casket down next to the freshly dug grave. Sheila’s family, including her mother, her father, and her brother, was seated first. David was one of the last to sit after the rest of the Lion’s senior staff had taken their seats on the back row.

  The honor guard moved off to the side and adjusted to parade rest, while the chaplain stepped up and spoke to the mourners.

  “We come here today to mourn the passing of a young woman full of life. Not just lost to a random act of chance but a life snuffed out by an all-consuming war,” the chaplain began.

  “I know, looking around at the people here today, I’m not the only one who asks why. I’m not the only one who looks up at the sky and asks over and over why God allows the horrible things that happen to continue. The pain and anguish that Sheila’s family, friends, and colleagues are enduring are altogether too common. Almost no one in our land hasn’t been touched by this war and endured loss from it.

  “In the book of Job, when Job finds out that his children have died, he stands up and tears his robe in grief, then he shaves his head and falls to the ground before God. Job said that the Lord gave me everything I had, and the Lord has taken it away. Praise the name of the Lord.”

  The chaplain gazed over the crowd. “Many times, we simply move on from our grief, lacking the time to process it, and we make ourselves busy so that we forget. But Job isn’t telling us to do that. Indeed, most of the book of Job is his mourning and challenging God as to that all-important question… why.”

  Why is the question. Where is the justice in this? Why does God allow so many horrible things to happen? He claims to be just and that if His people, who are called by His name, will humble themselves and pray, He will deliver them. Why hasn’t that happened?

  “Our grief is something we must process and endure. Some of us will move on more quickly than others. Some will grieve for a long time. Those of us who finish our mourning before the rest must not grow impatient with those who don’t. Grief affects us all in different ways. Today, we need to remember that Major Sheila Thompson was many things: a daughter, a warrior, a friend. She modeled the things that are the best in us. And our entire world is a little bit dimmer now that she’s gone.

  “Most of you here today have served, and you all understand the idea of chain of command. Those of us who have been in the military know that if we fail to follow orders, communication will break down, battles will dissolve into chaos, and the end result will be more lives lost. The same is true of believers. If we do not follow the orders found in the Bible, so, too, will our lives descend into chaos, and instead of lives, our souls will be lost. We must remain faithful and dedicated to the cause of Jesus Christ and what is just.

  “I charge you all that as you leave this place today, remember the sacrifice of Sheila Thompson. Remember the sacrifice of all those who have gone before and those who will undoubtedly follow. Some of you here may yet make that ultimate sacrifice. Know that as we stand with one voice, with one spirit, and with one mind, we are part of something larger than us. Our suffering is for those we protect, and it is something that I and I believe many of those who serve with me take pride in doing. Not the kind of pride that says, ‘Look at me. I did this.’ But the pride that comes from being a part of something bigger and better than yourself. Sheila Thompson had that pride, and she gave freely of herself so that others might live. She should serve as an inspiration to us all.

  “Let us pray.” As heads bowed, the chaplain continued, “Eternal Father, strong to save, we ask You to accept the soul of Sheila Thompson into Your loving care. We ask You to minister to her family and friends, and we ask You to heal them and heal our nation. In Your name we pray. Amen.”

  David bowed his head out of respect but was lost in his own thoughts. It’s so easy to just chalk it all up to God’s will. But why does He let this continue to happen?

  The honor guard stepped up to the casket, and the officer in charge requested that the mourners stand for rendering of honors. David stood and took a parade rest stance.

  The sergeant that led the honor guard commanded, “Present… arms!”

  Polished antique rifles snapped up to the port arms position, resting against the guards’ shoulders.

  “Aim!” the sergeant shouted, and moving as one, the honor guard pointed their rifles at the sky.

  “Fire!”

  A volley rang out, followed by another, then a third.

  An unseen bugler played the notes to “Taps,” and as Sheila’s family sat, the honor guard folded the flag that had been draped over her casket.

  It was all too much for David. Tears streamed down his face. He nearly broke into sobs but managed to control himself.

  As the soldiers completed folding the flag into its neat little triangle, the sergeant, with slow and precise movements, presented it to the officer in charge of the ceremony. With deliberate steps, he walked to stand directly in front of Sheila’s mother before leaning down and presenting her with the flag. David could hear her crying as she took it from him.

  The honor guard marched away along with the caisson and the riderless horse. For a few minutes afterward, the chaplain consoled Sheila’s parents, especially her mother, who was clearly in extreme grief. David hung back with the rest of the Lion’s command staff.

  With his ministering complete, the chaplain announced that the service was finished. The dignitaries and friends of the family began to walk away from the gravesite.

  David looked at Sheila’s mother and realized he would rather go into battle without a weapon than face her. But in Sheila’s recording, she had implored him to talk to her mother, so he steeled himself.

  Forcing his shoulders back, David walked with
purpose up to the family and addressed them. “Mr. and Mrs. Thompson.”

  “You must be David,” Sheila’s mother replied.

  “Yes, ma’am. David Cohen.”

  “Sheila said a lot about you over the years.”

  David’s eyes filled with tears. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am.”

  “I never wanted her to go down this path. I didn’t want her to spend a lifetime in the military.”

  “I believe Sheila, if she were here, would tell you that she wanted to make a difference and that service to the CDF was how she made that difference.”

  “Did she make a difference? Did her death matter? Was it worth it?” The last few words were asked at a higher pitch, and David could sense the anger behind them.

  David wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. He didn’t quite believe Sheila’s death was worth it, but that was colored by how raw the loss of her was. In a dark corner of his heart, a part of him wished someone else had made the sacrifice that day.

  “Sheila made a difference every day, ma’am,” he said finally. “I’ve seen few people with more dedication to the cause. She was my best friend. Was her death worth it? Did it matter? Yes, it mattered. She saved the ship. She saved us all. Do I wish every minute that she wasn’t the one who’d done it? Yes. But she did what she believed was right. That’s one of the things I loved about her.”

  “You’re alive because of her?”

  “Yes,” David replied.

  Sheila’s mother closed her eyes for a moment. “Then make sure you do something with her gift. Because it came at a very high cost.” Crying, she turned away.

  David stood there until Ruth and the rest of the senior staff got his attention and helped him away from the gravesite. Just wanting to be alone, he took his leave of them and began to walk down the dusty path back toward civilization.

  * * *

  Calvin walked up the driveway to his home, looking up at the Terran Coalition flag raised high on the flagpole in the yard. He reflected on how much he loved the flag and the ceremonies around it. He had always planned to enlist his children, once he had some, to assist him in raising and lowering the flag each day. Until then, he kept it lit up.

  He had been worried the entire trip home about what his wife would have to say to him, but it turned out he shouldn’t have been. Before he was halfway up the driveway, the front door flew open, and Jessica ran out with tears of joy in her eyes. He quickened his pace to meet her in the middle and embraced her while they kissed each other passionately.

  “I’m sorry for what I said, baby,” she said softly. “I can’t tell you how proud of you I am.”

  Calvin stared into her eyes. “Unless you just have something for a man in uniform...”

  She laughed at his lame attempt at humor.

  “I’ve got to ask you what changed. Because you were pretty upset with me.”

  “I’ve seen interview after interview on the holonets with the families of the POWs your team rescued. Now I know why you had to be there. God wanted you in that place so that you could save them.”

  “It wasn’t me, baby. It was all of us.”

  “You led them. You gave them confidence and courage. I’ve seen you do it with all these kids you’ve been training.”

  “So you’re okay with me staying in?”

  “I’m not happy about it, but I see now it’s where you’re supposed to be. It’s your calling, and I’ll be okay. I had my eggs frozen for a reason, and we can have a child whenever you’re ready. So, you see this through, then we can have our family.”

  Calvin thought about how selfless she was being, and it made him love her all the more. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise. But for now, how about you let me show you how much I missed you?”

  His wife kissed him playfully and called back to him as she darted toward the house, “If you can catch me!”

  42

  David’s quarters were dark as he lay in bed, considering the events of the day. Laying Sheila to rest with the other fallen was simply too much to process. At the same time, planning to reenter combat affected him in ways he hadn’t expected or could even understand. He was a mere automaton plodding along. His soul was crushed, and he felt trapped in the depths of despair and hopelessness. After what seemed like hours of tossing and turning, he finally fell into a restless sleep.

  Most nights, he had a dream or two that he might remember for a moment when he awoke, and occasionally, he remembered something vividly but never one like this. It was almost as if he were conscious when he was transported to a field of green grass as far as the eye could see. The sun shone down on him as a gentle breeze blew. Looking out across the field, David felt peace he couldn’t explain flow over him like a river. Suddenly, he heard Sheila’s voice.

  “David, I’ve missed you,” she said, as clearly as if she were standing beside him on the ship.

  Turning to his right, he saw Sheila standing beside him in a white sundress. Stunned, he managed to get out, “But… you’re gone.”

  “My body is dead, but my soul isn’t. I’m still here with you.”

  David raised an eyebrow. “This is all in my head. I must be having some whale of a dream.”

  “No, not a dream. Something else. Something you needed.”

  David took her hand and squeezed it. It felt firm, and moreover, it felt real. Of course it feels real. It’s a construct of my mind. “And what does my subconscious think I need?”

  “God thought you needed encouragement,” she replied without a trace of hesitation or irony.

  “HaShem? You’re telling me you met him?”

  Sheila laughed softly. “Yes. I met all three of them. David, you’re so broken right now.” She squeezed his hand tightly. “You have to get past your grief in order to live.”

  “I don’t know how to. I’m lost, and I know my actions and orders caused you to die,” David admitted, looking down at her hands. “I never acknowledged the feelings I had for you. When I got the recording you left for me, it forced me to confront my reality. I know you left it to communicate your feelings to me and encourage me, but it broke my heart to the core.”

  Sheila put her other hand under his chin and gently lifted his eyes to hers. “I never wanted that. I loved you, David. I still do. It’s just different now. I’m different. I’m nowhere, but I’m everywhere at the same time. It’s truly wondrous.”

  “What in the world are you talking about?”

  “Jews believe in heaven, right?”

  “Yes, though not quite in the same way Christians do.”

  “Well, I can only explain it this way: When my body died in space, one moment, I closed my eyes and hoped there was something more. The next moment, I opened them, and I was in this sea of white light. God was there. He took me into this place. It’s unlike anything I can describe with words. You have to experience it to understand it.”

  “Well, since every human dies, I’ll get to experience it someday, perhaps,” David said softly.

  “Why wouldn’t you?”

  “Sheila, when I look at my hands, I see blood. Blood of thousands of people I’ve killed through direct action, through orders, and through inaction. I close my eyes, and I see the innocents I know I’ve killed over the last seventeen years looking at me. I can’t escape them. I’m consumed by hatred for the League but most of all for what I’ve become… a damn killing machine!” By the end, David was sobbing.

  “God doesn’t blame you for that,” she said. “He loves you. He loves all of us. Even the League.”

  David’s face clouded over. “Why would He love the League? They try to kill anyone who worships his name. They’ve murdered billions of people!”

  “Because God wants everyone to repent and serve Him, even Admiral Seville,” she said earnestly.

  “Seville’s the worst of them all!” David nearly shouted. “The man has single-handedly helped kill over one hundred million men, women, and children. He belongs in Hell, if it exists.” As J
ews didn’t believe in the concept of Hell as a Christian did, David had made a strong point to her.

  “That’s not for you to decide, David,” Sheila said sadly. “You’ve got to let this go. It’s destroying you. Hating the League, hating Seville—that does nothing but eat you up inside and bring you farther apart from God. God is love, David. Hate is evil.”

  David angrily tore his hand out of hers. “The Sheila I know wouldn’t lecture me on forgiving Seville,” he said coldly.

  “I would and have,” Sheila responded evenly as she walked around to get in his line of sight. “David, if you can’t forgive Seville, that’s okay. Ask God to help you. But if you hold on to it, you will become just like him. The pain and loss you feel, it’s all a symptom of a larger problem. Let go of the hate. God is there. He’s a still, small voice. Don’t shout him down. Let him help you.”

  “Evil must be opposed. You used to tell me that. It’s our job to stop evil.”

  “It is our job to stop evil where we can, but it’s also our job to stop evil from entering our hearts. Do you think God is out here by himself? For good to exist, evil must exist. That means that God has an opposing force. I call it Satan. Satan will do anything to tempt us and turn us away from Him.”

  “Jews don’t believe in Satan.”

  “That’s nice,” Sheila said as she scrunched her nose. “Somebody said the best trick Satan ever pulled was convincing people he didn’t exist. I think that’s true.”

  David turned his head away. “I couldn’t save you, Sheila, or any of them. I don’t know how to live with that. I failed. Seventy-eight men and women under my command were killed because of my orders back on the Rabin. It should’ve been me. Not you. Not them. Me.”

  Sheila stepped up and grabbed both of his arms. “Stop it, David Cohen!” she shouted as she shook him. “You didn’t fail. You did the best you could. God asks no more of you than that, and so do your fellow soldiers. Stop blaming yourself.”

 

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