Duty Recall Read online

  An Air Force Tech Sergeant entered the plane and yelled, “Follow me, please and remove your headgear before leaving the aircraft!”

  The passengers grabbed their bags and one by one, filed down the ramp onto the tarmac. With sweat already pouring down the side of his face, David joined the line. Major Allan, dressed in his Desert Combat Uniform (DCUs), sported a stylish pair of Oakley sunglasses, purchased while in Riyadh, realizing that there was no uniformed or standard issue when it came to eyewear, at least from what he witnessed.

  The line of troops followed the Air Force tech Sergeant across the hot tarmac, amidst numerous C-130's, C-5 Galaxy's, and Blackhawk helicopters. The overpowering smell of diesel and other variety of fumes filled the air. As they moved along, an Air Force Sergeant was leading another line of soldiers, mingled with a few civilians towards the aircraft that David and his fellow soldiers had just departed.

  “Welcome to 'Mortaritasville,” he heard someone yell from the line above the sounds of aircraft engines and flapping rotors. Major Allan discovered in time why Anaconda earned its nickname, along with the unflattering name, “Bombaconda.” Random mortars and rockets would frequently land somewhere on the compound, often causing chaos and temporarily halting operations.

  David followed the line, occasionally feeling the marble that was given to him just before the trip, and rolled it around in his palm.

  * * *

  Now, four months later, David was more than ready to go home for some Christmas R&R. He previously spent time in Saudi Arabia, training for his new job as a Contingency Contracting Officer, and then was transferred to LSA Anaconda to support the Combined Joint Task Force-7 operations, consisting of more than 20,000 coalition forces. It was up to him, and others like him, to establish trusting business relations and a vendor base among the local Iraqi's to procure the necessary supplies and services for the soldiers and their mission.

  David knew that things would not be the same when he returned home for the holidays, he was sure of that. His dog, “Rusky” died two months after he deployed to the war zone. Still remembering Rusky's look of bewilderment when he stood on his hind two legs peering out the front window as he was leaving, David shook his head slowly at the memories. Only in paradise now, my friend, David thought.

  His daughter, Jenny, had just graduated from high school and his son, Robert, was nearing the completion of his third year at the West Point Academy in New York. David pondered these things and could not wait to get back home to the “perfect” vacation to see his family. He could not even define what “perfect” would be, but he just knew that whatever it looked like, it would be perfect!

  * * *

  The manifest process ensued again at 1800 hrs. Three hours later, a different Air Force representative appeared and announced, “I'm sorry everyone, but this scheduled flight has been delayed until tomorrow morning.”

  The response was the same only the curses grew louder and more colorful. An agitated Army Lieutenant Colonel walked up to the Air Force Sergeant and demanded to speak with his OIC (Officer in Charge). “Sir, I know it sucks, but we'll make sure that you are on your flight first thing in the morning.”

  The officer would not budge. “I want to see him now, Sergeant!”

  “Okay, sir, follow me, please.”

  David didn't wait around for the outcome. He went back to his trailer for some “rack time.”

  The following day was much like “Groundhog Day,” same processing, same waiting, same delays. Finally, around 2000 hrs. that night, the final manifest was called out and the line of soldiers, marines, airmen, and civilians walked towards the large silhouette of the C-5 Galaxy jet aircraft.

  The C-5 was the largest in the fleet and could carry M-1 Abram tanks in the main body while the troops slept upstairs in a passenger compartment. David remembered the last time he was on one of these as he was headed to Saudi Arabia during Desert Storm twelve years before.

  The line moved towards the aircraft and then stopped suddenly, causing some to bump into the ones in front of them. The Lieutenant Colonel was amongst the soldiers. The wait began again and the rumor spreading up and down the line was that the aircraft was experiencing more mechanical difficulty. This bit of news caused the colonel to go ballistic. David joined most of those in line and removed his rucksack from his back, plopped it on the tarmac, and leaned against it, his legs stretched out in front of him. Small chatter was exchanged but nothing worth remembering, except for the humorous observation of the Lieutenant Colonel's animated antics and profound speech.

  David looked into the night sky to catch a glimpse of the sparkling lights overhead. Locating the Big Dipper was always his first choice and then he oriented himself from there by tracing its lead to the North Star. Often, he scanned the expanse to search for a shooting star. There was none on this night.

  Reaching into his pocket, David pulled out the smooth marble and held it up to the sky. The emerald swirl inside seemed to be moving with more intensity for whatever reason.

  In the crowd of air force technicians milling about the aircraft, one of them lifted his hand in the air, circled his fist with his index finger pointing skyward, and yelled, “Let's roll. Wheels up!”

  Everyone cheered, then quickly grabbed their bags and moved forward like a caterpillar into the large mouth of the bird. David pocketed his marble and stood up with the rest. Then they inched forward, once again, moving to the big jumbo jet silhouetted on the dark tarmac in front of them.

  Bright lights, shining everywhere, greeted their entrance into the aircraft. The line continued along to the rear of the aircraft and up the metal steps to the second floor. The first few passengers lunged for an empty seat before the seats were taken. Next, the aisle seats quickly filled.

  David was able to get a seat on the right side of the aircraft, next to where a window would be in a passenger jet. A female lieutenant sat down next to him. They exchanged a couple of one-liners about finally being able to go home. Everyone got settled and maneuvered their gear where possible; strapped themselves in and listened to any instructions provided while waiting for takeoff.

  Thirty minutes later, the C-5 was slowly moving into position at the end of the tarmac. After further delays, David could hear the high, winding pitch of the jet engines being revved to a thunderous roar and then the jet lurching forward. He remembered this distinctive sound from when he and Sherry were first married and lived in a small trailer, just outside Pope Air Force base. Although not the only cause, but anytime the C-5 roared into action, their trailer shook and rocked.

  The interior was now dark, the passengers quiet. David felt the rapid, increasing thrust of speed through his body and then felt the liftoff. This pilot must be afraid of ground fire, David thought to himself, as the jet shot into a steep incline, reminding him of what it might be like inside a rocket. Not that he was ever in one, except for the “Mission to Mars” ride at Epcot. He began silently whispering, “Straighten up, level out. Hurry!”

  After several minutes, the C-5 began to level. David leaned back and closed his eyes, thanking God that he was finally airborne, and on his way home to see his family. He especially looked forward to seeing his wife, Sherry, the girl he loved and had been married to for nearly 22 years.

  * * *

  David's thoughts drifted into dreams. Sweet at first, they abruptly turned violent and he found himself back in the capital of Colombia during a terrorist attack. Something like a bomb exploded and David's head snapped forward, causing him to open his eyes in fright. Rapidly blinking and adjusting to the darkness, David looked around. None of the other passengers in sight were sleeping, but rather dozily looking around as he was.

  Suddenly, the jet dropped straight down, causing a loud thud-type sound as if it landed on something and bounced back up. “Jesus!” somebody yelled.

  The lieutenant next to David looked worried as she clutched the seat in front of her and looked for an air bag. The plane took another bounce, much like the f
irst one, only worse. The bouncing seemed to be getting harder.

  “What the hell is going on?” The Lieutenant Colonel was yelled. Then he started to get out of his seat. This turned out not to be a wise decision.

  The jet jerked again, sending him down the aisle and against the wall with a thud. He hit hard. Nobody could assist him because the plane began bouncing up and down like an overpriced, simulated ride at a theme park.

  The plane tilted to its side slowly and then was completely sideways in a violent swirl, sending passengers grasping for something solid. Equipment flew around the cabin. The lieutenant next to David screamed. He tried to look at her but was busy blocking a flying rucksack from striking him in the head. His head started to rock back and forth with the force of the aircraft, now spinning to its left and then to its right.

  The fact that the C-5 was not in a “nose-dive” presented a glimmer of hope for David. “Dear God, help us through this! Get us through! Please G….”

  The lights flickered on briefly and then back off. There were popping sounds, like firecrackers.

  The yelling and commotion increased and reached a fever pitch when the huge aircraft bounced again. This time, the impact was all she could take. David was spinning around like a top, still strapped to his seat. He held on for dear life. Rucksacks, weapons, and other equipment flew past his head like missiles.

  For a brief second, there was a glimpse of the Lieutenant Colonel flying past David like a large sack. He was limp. Seats flew by; metal ripped, and the sky opened before his eyes. David's seat suddenly lifted from the bolted flooring and was sucked out of the jet as if a tornado in the heart of Kansas had grabbed it and flung it like a toy. He remained intact in his seat.

  A leg flew past David as his seat spun in the night sky and something like water splashed across his face. There was also the jagged piece of the fuselage turning along the side of him, and in his state of mind he hoped that there would be no contact with it.

  Flying through the desert, his back to the wind, and remained strapped to his seat. Briefly, he saw what was left of the aircraft as it sat smoldering on the desert floor in several pieces. Patches of fire spread across the sand like miniature bonfires.

  David wondered how bad it would hurt as the desert floor rushed up towards him. He drew a deep breath and then yelled, “I love you Sherry!”

  “Aaaahhhh!” David felt the jarring sensation of impact while remaining attached to his seat. The force kicked up a pile of sand that rained back down on him.

  His body ripped from the cushions as both he and the seat, now in separate parts, bounced and rolled across the sand. Then, the bouncing stopped. David opened his eyes, then spit. He could not move his 175-pound frame, but he wiggled his fingers. A third of his face was buried in the sand but his nose was above the surface, clearing his nostrils for much needed oxygen. “I'm still alive!” He choked. “Oh God, I hurt. Everywhere.”

  Surrounded by darkness David heard the crackling sound of fire echoing near him and for a couple of seconds, a male voice yelled, “Help me, help me!” However, that sound soon faded away until everything was quiet.

  The landscape seemed misty and dark. For several minutes, there was only silence. In the distance, David thought that he heard the sound of rotor blades beating against the night sky. Then a gust of wind blowing in increments whipped across his motionless body. Could it be the sound of angel wings swooping to pick me up and take me home? David thought.

  “Sherry,” he whispered. The stars above him twinkled brightly, and then faded, then blinked again, as if they were sending a coded message from heaven. David felt weaker and weaker. A sparkling emerald light emitted from the sand, just out of David's reach. His mind reached for it but his hand did not move; not even an inch. It was his marble and it was glowing brightly. A numbing sensation engulfed his body, and then he closed his eyes.

  3. Walter Reed

  Three Months later

  David's eyes fluttered a few seconds before opening fully. Slowly adjusting his focus, he made out a dim blurry figure standing over him. Was it an angel? Was it Jesus? He wondered. The soft hand of a woman was holding his. Then a voice spoke softly. “David! David! Can you hear me?”

  “Yes,” he managed to mumble. The figure got closer and more distinguishable. “Sherry? Is that you?”

  Leaning nearer to him, until her face brushed his, she said, “Oh my God! Yes, darling, it is me, your wife!”

  David felt her soft lips on his face mixed with drops of water, one of which rolled down his cheek into the side of his mouth. He could taste the saltiness of her teardrops as he licked his lips.

  “Oh my God, David, I love you, I love you, so much!” Sherry looked around the room for a nurse, an orderly, a doctor, anybody!

  One of the medical technicians hurried into the room after noticing the activity on the screen's monitor at her desk. She jumped up to retrieve the doctor after witnessing Major Allan wake up and hold his wife's hand.

  Sherry lifted her head and stared affectionately into his eyes. “What a remarkable sight!”

  David smiled, and then he laughed—a laugh of pure joy and pleasure. Why not, he just survived a horrific plane crash somewhere in the Iraqi desert, and here he was waking up to the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.

  “Am I dreaming? Is this heaven?”

  “No honey, you are back home, you are here, in the USA!”

  Sherry leaned forward to give him another kiss when a military Doctor entered the room with a uniformed nurse tagging closely behind.

  “Lieutenant Allan, can you hear me? I am Dr. Meyers, your neurologist, and you are at the Walter Reed Army Medical Center.”

  David saw the full eagle on his collar indicating his rank as a Colonel.

  “Yes sir, I can hear you,” David answered, wondering why he was being addressed as a Lieutenant.

  Dr. Meyers smiled, and then exchanged glances with Sherry and continued.

  “Lieutenant Allan, you suffered quite a traumatizing head injury and have been in a coma for three months. Do you recollect anything at all, anything that happened to you in Kuwait?”

  The Medical assistant returned to the room and started chattering with the nurse.

  Sherry could see that David looked puzzled. “Umm, sort of. Wasn't I in a C-5 jet that crashed or was shot down shortly after taking off from Balad?”

  Dr. Meyers smiled politely, “I tell you what, why don't you get some rest for now and we can discuss everything later, okay?”

  Dr. Meyers quickly turned to Sherry and with a slight nod, led her to the front door.

  “I'll be right back honey; I just want to speak with the Doctor for a moment. I promise that I won't leave you and will be right here.”

  “Sure thing,” David answered, his hand slowly reaching for his head as if to feel for its existence. Then he tried to piece together the actual events. There was a slight throbbing pain in his head but nothing severe.

  “Hello Lieutenant Allan, I'm Major Calloway, and I'm just going to take your vitals for now, okay?”

  “Okay Major. By the way, why does everybody keep calling me 'Lieutenant?' ”

  The nurse glanced at him momentarily but refrained from answering his question. “Just remember that you went through a severe accident and are in the process of recovering. I believe that when I finish taking your vital signs, everything will indicate that you are on the mend and will be able to return to your home at Ft. Bragg sooner than you know it.”

  Fort Bragg? I have not been at Fort Bragg since 1994, David thought. The doctor told Sherry that David had suffered a moderate case of intracranial injury and because a team of medics were quickly on the scene within the first 30 minutes, his chances were very good that he would wake up from his coma and be able to live a full normal life.

  “Thank God it is still there,” David said as he felt the cuff on his right arm squeeze tighter and tighter.

  “What is?” Nurse Calloway asked.

>   “My noggin!”

  She chuckled briefly. “Of course it is.”

  “Fort Bragg?” He said aloud. “I haven't been there since the mid-nineties.”

  “Let's get you to sit up a bit,” Nurse Calloway said, her eyes shifting briefly towards him. The more you move around, the better.” She began taking his vital signs by placing a Blood Pressure cuff around his right bicep. After listening through a stethoscope, she removed the BP cuff, and turned back to David with a cheerful smile and a wink.

  “You will be just fine. I'll let the Doctor know that you are normal.”

  David could see that Major Calloway stopped and spoke with Doctor Meyers. Sherry returned to his side, clutching his hand. She looked as vibrant as ever and she smiled her beautiful smile, grabbing David's hand tightly. Doctor Meyers told me that you could be coming home soon, but that he will need to run some more tests.”

  “How long have I been here? Will you stay with me?” David pleaded.

  “Of course I will, from the moment you were brought here until we return home. The kids will be sooo happy to see their daddy back home in Fayetteville and well.”

  “Fayetteville? Daddy? Honey, aren't the kids a bit old for, 'daddy?” Then, before he could go on with more questions and Sherry had time to respond to his bizarre behavior, and maybe because his eyes were becoming more focused with time, he suddenly realized that Sherry looked twelve years younger than when he had left her just seven months before. Moreover, her hair! He had not seen her with that color, style and length since he returned from Desert Storm in 1991.

  Sherry looked into his eyes, “David, the Doctor said that you might have memory loss and that you may not be thinking coherently for a period of time. But, he expects a full recovery and everything will be back to normal in no time at all!”

  David wondered. “Sherry, you look beautiful, I-I just can't remember …” he was cut short by a young sergeant wearing whites wheeling in a cart of food. Major Calloway followed close behind.