Brothers In Blood: For Country

Choosing the Frontlines

The call came that winter. Just after Christmas, Mac was outside with the kids, clearing the drive way so they could go to church the next morning. Three feet of snow had fallen during the last few days, and James and Kyle loved it. Rachel came out onto the porch. “Kevin, phone call for you! It’s Jack!” Mac dropped his shovel and picked up his kids. “We’ll finish this later, okay boys? Daddy gotta go talk to Uncle Jack, an you two can’t be outside without someone watching, okay/” They eagerly complied and scurried into the house and quickly shed their wet clothes and ran to their rooms, stark naked. She handed him the phone, along with a pleading look, then went into the living room to wait.
“Jack?”
“How’s things going up North, Mac?”
“Cold, snowy, wet, usual winter. How about you?”
There was a pause. “Three overdoses, two fatal since I’ve been back. Caught some kids in my backyard late last night, making a drug deal. Gotta happen soon.”
“Talk to D?”
“Just got off the phone with him. He’s flying in tomorrow. How’s Rachel and the kids?”
“They’re doing fine, She don’t want me leavin’ again, but that’s understandable. How long you think this gonna take?”
“Well, we got GD in too, so four freaks against drugs and gangs... Something tells me this won’t be quick and easy.”
The cabinets squeaked as Mac leaned his weight against them. “What about them?”
“Wouldn’t advise bringing them with you, had some druggies watching the house past couple weeks, and been finding broken bottles all over my driveway. Gettin’ worse, we gotta do something.” There was a rustling of pages on the other end of the line. “Remember the book, Rumblefish?”
“yeah, good book too.”
“That’s the kind of thing these kids are looking for, the kind of thing they need. End of the gang wars, it just ain’t worth it. There can still be gangs without all the drugs and sex, that’s just what these kids are getting thrown into. Fights about honor, real honor, not just he-said-she-said. Had a girl show up at the door, scared to death, someone said she’d been sleeping with her boyfriend’s best friend. They found the kid’s body in the woods the next morning. her parent’s signed a release form, so I sent her out of town for a while. Been living with GD past couple weeks. Boyfriend never even noticed she was gone. They don’t understand honor anymore.”
“Does anyone in this world?”
“Always gotta pray for the handful, Mac. And teach the next generation what its all about. Not an excuse to fight, its a question of character that’s gotta be settled, one way or another. Standin’ up for your friends, loyalty...”
“You go into that camp, and all you’ve got left is honor, and you’re honor is you’re country’s honor, your family’s honor, your brother’s honor, your girlfriend‘s honor, your wife‘s honor, your fellow soldier’s honor.” The sergeant was striding up and down the line of Marines, waiting for deployment. “If you are taken prisoner, remember that fact. They’ll do their best to take away your dignity, take you down to their level, break your hearts and minds and bodies until you become one of them. Honor is the only thing you will have left, that intensity inside that drives you to fight back any way you can. Honor is how you act under pressure to fold. We’ve done our job, making you all into Marines, tempering your bodies, your minds for combat. Honor is what’s inside, uphold your country. Your personal honor is the real metal, the stuff that’ll prove whether you survive or not.” Tears filled his eyes. “You’re all good men, and I’m proud to be serving alongside you.” He walked down the line, shaking every man’s hand before helping them into the chopper that would take them off to the front lines. “O’Daul, you’re a good man. King, stay strong, boy. Mmbola, I pity the fool who messes with you. Dickerson, we’ll get you home to that girl of yours. Lynch, glad you’re on my side. McNaughton, knuckles up and feet on the ground, right? I’m trusting you four,” He pointed to Mista D, GD, Jack and Mac, “To keep the squad together if I end up diving.” They nodded, flushed with the responsibility. He turned and went on down the line.
“Banna, try not to get too far ahead of the rest of us, okay? Tella, you’re with these guys, loaded down with guns and explosives and shit. Keep you’re trap shut and no problems, got it? Michael, good to have you here, trusting you to blast through to the other side. McCoy, keep shootin’ straight, Pop. Graul, don’t let that camera fool you, behind that lens, you’re just as vulnerable as the rest of us. Schmitt, you’ll see those Carolina hills again when its all over. Fostten, still don’t know where they came up with Kinky, but we’ll pull through this.” He went on down the line, addressing each man in turn, Vincentti, Borkowski, Smith, Beck, Rodriguez, Peters, Berry, Taylor. The sergeant wiped the moisture from his eyes and pulled himself up into the chopper.
Jack’s hand was extended. “Sergeant Hogan, I’ll protect your honor with my life. Your honor is my country’s honor, and you are my brother. Glad to be serving with you, sir.” He saluted, then sat back down. Mac raised his fist. “One last hurrah, boys, we’re off to war.”
“Strike a cord with you too, Jack?”
“yeah, and Hogan was the first to go when all this UN shit went down. Still holding onto Honor until the end.”
“I’ll be there early next week, okay?”
“Got some stuff you gotta take care of?”
“yeah, gotta get some things squared away before I take off again.”
“Understood. See you then, Mac.”
“Confirmed, Semper Fi, Captain.” Mac hung up the phone and walked into James’ bedroom, where Rachel was reading them both a story. He hung in the doorway, watching them, feeling conflicting emotions about what he had to do. he didn’t want to leave them, but the big picture and trying to change it was more important. Wasn’t it? Kyle and James ran up to him and hugged him when Rachel was done. They kissed his cheek, “Good night, Daddy!” then hustled off, scampering under the covers. “Good night, Mommy!” She tucked them in and turned off the lights.
Mac was sitting in the den, flipping through a Captain America comic book. “You’re leaving again, huh?” It wasn’t an accusation, there was no malice in it. It was a question. “Off to save the world again, for love of country, right?” She moved from the doorway and sat down on the edge of his desk. Her voice took an edge. “For the children, isn’t that what Jack said when we all talked about it, what, at Thanksgiving when he came to visit? Kevin, you’ve got kids now, what are you gonna tell them? They’re so young, has it really been long enough for them to attach to you as a father? Why can’t Jack take this out on his own, why does he need to steal you from your family so he can save a handful of kids? What difference does that handful make?” She stopped, his head had dropped, the comic book fallen unnoticed to the floor.
“Ever heard the story of the star fish?”
“What does that have-”
“There was this storm, see, and all these starfish were lying up on the beach, where they couldn’t get back into the water, right? So this kid comes down from his beach house or whatever and starts throwing them back. so there’s this guy, he comes jogging by and watches the kid doing this, right? So he asks the kid, ‘what’s the point, there’s too many for you to save on you’re own. it woun’t make a difference.’ The kid takes one and throws it into the water and looks at the guy and says, ‘made a difference to that one, didn’t I?’”
Rachel sat there, thinking what to say. The edge in her voice was still there, but it was softer. “Don’t stay up too late, thinking about this, okay, love? He‘ll show you what to do.” She patted his hand then left.
Mac put the comic book away and followed her into the bedroom. “It’ll only be for a few weeks, I promise.” There was some hurt in her eyes. “I’d take you if I could, you know that, but Jack’s already got dealer’s watching his house, and I don’t want you or the kids to get hurt.”
When are you leaving?
The sooner I leave, the sooner i can come home. when do you want me to leave?”
“I don’t want you to, that’s my problem. The kids’ll understand, they understood from the first time they found out you were a soldier. You left a copy of your service papers in the truck, and they found it. They asked me if you’d be leaving again. they’ll be okay with it...”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “And what about you?”
She sniffed. “Guess I should have expected this, known it was coming. married to an All-American GI, one of nine men, out of the millions in the USA, called up to fight out their home turf for their home country... Jumped on the side of the road, had a laser chase you for miles, destroyed a department store, had a gun battle around you’re own house... Does any other husband come with that kind of baggage?” She smiled, tears running down her face. “and you warned me, and I didn’t listen.” She stood up and took his hand. “Whatever happens, I’ll be here, waiting for you to come back. Take care of yourself, Kevin McNaughton, I don’t want these boys to lose the only father they’ve ever had.”
“Call you every night, love.”
“And if we don’t hear from you?”
“You will. The night I don’t call is the night I’m back in your arms.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
“Thank you, Rachel.”
“For what? I’m just supporting you, like I said I would before. I’m not doing anything.”
“Thank you for understanding, for sticking with me, and for letting me have two kids.”
“Gonna talk to them before you go?”
“They still awake?”
“I think so, why don’t you go check?”
He did. The boys were fast asleep, their peaceful forms rejuvenating for the adventures the sunrise had in store for them. He went back to the bedroom. “I’ll leave tomorrow night, that okay with you?”
She pulled her bathrobe off the hook and started for the shower. “No, but whatever.”
Mac blocked the door. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The tears were back, along with all her will-power. “Kevin, I don’t ever want you to leave again. I feel like you’re riding out to New York all over again, and I’m helpless to do anything. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m taking my shower.” She pushed past him and shut the door and broke down.
When she came out, Mac wasn’t in the bedroom. she slipped into her night gown, then walked around the house looking for him. The truck was still there, but he wasn’t in the house. Rachel heard his voice, talking to someone. Quietly, she stepped outside and listened for him again. He was on the far side of the deck. Her slippers were silent on the smooth wood, so he didn’t hear her coming. She shivered in the winter air.
“Why is this stuff so hard? gotta chose between doing what’s best for my family, and fightin’ for what’s right. young family, not even close to a year together, an now I’m called off to war again. the first few months with her was Hell, and now I’m asking her to let me go off again on some crazy adventure with guys she barely knows. How can I ask anyone to do that, much less my wife?” She heard him get up from the deck, the creak as he leaned on the railing. “Great stars you created, its no wonder people look to them for answers. So far above everything else, always there, always watching. But they don’t got the answers, do they? Ain’t got nothing that you didn’t put there. So what’s the answer, God? I could really use some guidance here. I’ll be here all night, so there’s now hurry.” He laughed. “But you already knew that, huh? Damn it, God! Why can’t you ever make things like this easier for us mortals? WHY?” There was a scratching noise and a creak on the roof. Rachel peeked around the corner, but Mac was gone.
He crouched next to the battered weathervane, the cold winter air soothing his hot temper. He closed his eyes and leaned against the cold metal. It burned through his T-shirt, but he let it go. Something was speaking inside of him. Two factions, both seeming right, warring eternally against one another, the foundling voice of the Family Man and the sturdy commands and demands of the Righteous Patriot. Family comes first. Before there was a nation there was a family. But what protects the family? Is it not the nation that a man supports in order to protect what he loves most? But the foundation of the nation is the family, so support that foundation. The foundation is firm, now stand at the ramparts and do your part. Before this family, you served the Nation above all. As a dedicated Fascist, the country should always come before self and family. As an American, it is our duty to protect the family, as is the natural instinct from the dawn of time.
He was there for fifteen minutes before the cold drove him to move. The door in the roof opened slowly as he approached. Rachel stood in the doorway, her thin frame highlighted from below.
“Whatever you’re decision, I’ll support you, 110 percent, even if it means you leaving again. Now come inside before Old Man Winter gets you.” She took his hand and pulled him inside. She went halfway down the stairs before she realized Mac wasn’t following. He was watching her. “Come on, Kevin, you need to sleep. come here. Now.” He lumbered down the stairs and stood in front of her, searching her face.
“You know what I have to do, don’t you?”
“It’s not something I have any control over. You’re a soldier, set on your path by God to preserve the future.”
“I’ll come back every chance I get.”
“I know you will.” She took his hand. “You’re so cold. Got to get you warmed up again. Go take a hot shower, then get some sleep. Got a long drive tomorrow.” She kissed him, then slipped away. “Love you, Kevin.”
When he woke up the next morning, Rachel was still lying next to him. He put his arm around her and felt her pull closer. The door creaked open and James poked his head in. “Are yous awakes yet?” Rachel sat up slowly, “Yeah, honey, we’re up. Need something?” “I is a little hungry.” “You want cereal or oatmeal?” The boy pressed his finger against his cheek, his elbow resting in his other hand, as if this decision would change the world. “I thinks I wants cereal.” “Can you get it yourself, James?” “Yeah, I is a big boy and can get me own cereal. Is Mommy tired?” “Yes, James, Mommy is tired. I’ll be right out to help you.” He closed the door, and they listened to him toddle down the hall to the pantry. Rachel laid back down.
“When are you leaving?” There was a certain stress in her voice. “Tonight?”
Mac arched his back, felt it pop, and put his knees up. “Tonight, before we put the kids to bed. Don’t want them going to sleep, and waking up to find Daddy mysteriously missing.” he put his hand against her cheek. “Gotta get ready for church, baby.” She held his hand there for a moment, then turned and got dressed. Mac helped in the kitchen, then struggled with the boys to get them dressed nice.
“We have a guest speaker this morning,” Pastor Ferdinand said from the pulpit, “He’s an acquaintance of mine, a veteran from the War and has a very special message for us today. Please welcome Vincent Borkowski.” Rachel noticed Mac’s eyes flash open, something had triggered his fire. She whispered, “What’s wrong?” He pointed to the man shaking the pastor’s hand. “That man was part of our squad. He led the other half that decided to give up the fight and run. Thought they were all dead.” He gripped the pew in front of him, as if to leave. “Can’t listen to him, Rachel, he-” His eyes met those staring at him from the pulpit. They were filled with tears, some kind of repentance, a pleading look. Mac sat back down. Borkowski mouthed a thank you, wiped his eyes and started speaking.
“ladies and gentlemen, I stand before you as a man who has known what its like to run from justice and the law. I’ve faced death hundreds of times, and God has blessed me enough to be able to stand before you today. My sermon was supposed to be on the supposed impossibility of complete forgiveness, but it no longer seems appropriate. Instead, I’ve got a story for you, a story about a prodical, a traitor.
“It’s too damn much to take! Why support a country that’s completely forgotten about us?” Borkowski was ranting again. “Want to end up like the Nam veterans? Huh? hiding the fact that we served from the world? That what you want? Ain’t for me. Screw America.” He ripped off the insignia on his uniform and threw it into the fire. The rest of the squad watched him. Then some of the others ripped theirs off and burned them. He glared at the ones who still had theirs intact. “You hear me, McNaughton? You’re gonna get burned if you go back. You don’t even believe in democracy! Why you standing with a country you don’t even agree with?” Mac didn’t say anything, but there was a glow in his eyes.
“And you, Mmbola, why you going back? There ain’t nothing for you, you’re a veteran of a stupid war that everyone stateside hates, and your black to top it off. Ain’t no future for you back there. Be doing DPW work for the rest of your life.” Mista D folded his arms across his barrel chest and met Borkoski’s baleful glare.
“What you don’t undastand, Frank, is dat God says you allegiance to a country is a choice, an you gots to honor that choice. You born here, you live here, you serve for it. You chose to join up, nobody made you do it. Stick wid you country, stick wid God and they’ll take care o’you. You makin’ a bad choice, brotha, and I hope you changes your mind. And all you boys who want out, think about what you doin before you turn your back on the country that raised you.”
Borkowski glanced at the others who had burned their identities. To give up now meant weakness, something he had never been willing to show. he waved his hand, dismissing D’s comments. “Can’t change the way things be, and I’m leaving. Better off in the jungle than lost in the numbers and red tape of American bureaucracy.” He spun on his heal and strode off into the jungle. He heard the others following him.
Two months later, Borkowski was wracked with jungle fever. The rest of his group had abandoned him when it became apparent that he would only become a burden to them, and there was nothing they could do to help them. Unfortunately, the medic had stayed with the other half of the squad. His guts ached, and the water nearby was filled with little critters that played havoc with his system. He had to get out. he crawled for three days downstream, hoping to find a village. he found one.
He stumbled into the small square, barely able to stand, much less walk. An American man with long, ragged white hair was sitting on the ground, leaning against one of the huts. They looked at each other, then Borkowski bent double and heaved whatever had been in his stomach out on the ground. The old man stood and with surprising strength, picked up the fallen stranger and carried him inside one of the huts. An Asian woman was inside, tending to another sick man, his face covered in bandages. The old man laid him on a straw matress and said something to the woman. She glared venomously at Borkowski, but relented as the man spoke to her.
The old man leaned over Borkowski. “Don’t know if you understood any of that,” A Californian surfer accent was apparent in the man’s voice, “But she’s not from around here. Village got burned by ‘Mericans two weeks back, all her family died. Didn’t have no word on troop movements in that area, and believe me, I’ve been informed. Uncle wants all his boys safe, even thems doing relief work. Name’s Curtis by the way.” He shook Borkowski’s hand. “She’s not happy about having to help you, but I think I got her convinced you’re not one of the men who torched her village.”
She snapped at that, saying something so berating that Curtis blushed. He looked back at Borkowski. “She says she recognizes you. You lead the raiders who killed her family in the middle of the night. That true?”
Borkowski battled fatigue to remember. yeah, he remembered the village, the way the napalm stuck to their bodies and the way the mud huts collapsed when they threw the grenades in. He remembered the way the goats fell to pieces, literally when they all opened fire at once. But he remembered one little girl in particular, her dress on fire, her hair smoldering, dancing in the smoke. All the soldiers had stopped to watch her, just dancing there, slowly moving, gracefully, like she was a wisp of smoke herself. Her face was completely peaceful, even through the flames were running all over her body. She just kept dancing... just kept dancing until her legs couldn’t hold her up anymore. She waved her arms in the air, still continuing the dance until the fire finished her off. “Stupid whore.” he had kicked the burning body and laughed as it rolled down the hill. The laugh felt hollow, a failed attempt at callousness. They left the village after that, walked off into the jungle night. Borkowski felt something behind him and turned. the girl was at the bottom of the hill, her arms raised one last time to the sky.
Tears splashed on the pulpit. Borkowski felt his knees giving and grabbed the sides for dear life. “That night, and for the next few weeks, I found myself face to face with God’s grace. The woman forgave me, and before I left with Curtis to come back to the States, she told me that she forgave me and God could forgive me too, all I had to do was ask. Gave my life over to him at thirty thousand feet, in a rag-tag Piper Cub. And now I’m here, and God has given me the opportunity to seek forgiveness from another one of the people I hurt during the War.”
Rachel had been watching Mac’s face for most of the sermon, and had seen the emotions played out there. Anger, sadness, regret, repulsion. Hope. She brushed his cheek, wiping the tears away, but he jerked his head away. He took her hand in his and looked her in the eye. He stood up and stepped into the isle. “Been a long time, hasn’t it, Vince?”
The entire church was silent, wondering what he was doing. At the pulpit, Borkowski was trembling. He had been in the prison yard when Mac and GD and Jack went crazy, so he knew the extreme efficiency Mac acted with. “yeah, Mac, it has been a long time.”
the pastor stood to stop Mac, but he put out his hand and pointed to the seat. pastor Ferdinand sat down immediately.
Rachel bowed her head and immediately started praying in earnest, that Mac wouldn’t kill this man.
Mac stepped up onto the stage. There were sparks in his eyes.
Borkowski stood up straight to face him.
The congregation held their breath.
“Good to see you again.”
That wasn’t what Vince Borkowski had been expecting and it hit him like a physical blow. This wasn’t the Mac he had known in he jungle, the animalistic whack job, whose only purpose was to kill and fight. Where had this come from? “Good to see you too, Mac.” he felt his knees wobbling again and he started to fall.
Then he felt Mac’s arms around him, holding him up. he started sobbing against Mac’s chest, letting all his emotions pour out. He heard Mac telling him that it was okay, that everything was gonna be okay. Then he felt wetness on the top of his head. Mac was crying too, his tears falling onto him. Then, for some reason, Borkowski pulled away. he looked Mac in the face. “I’ll see you in the after, Kevin McNaughton, and you’re a much better man than I’ll ever be.” He picked up his bible from the pulpit and quietly, unaccompanied, left the church and disappeared down the road in his car. The congregation just sat there, unsure how to react. Mac stepped down from the stage and walked out into the narthex and Rachel followed him out. Pastor Ferdinand went to the pulpit and dismissed the service.