Me, I Matter 156b5a

Me I Matter

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Sandra Rains DeBusk Copyright@2014/SandraRainsDeBusk/ Me

Table of Contents

Copyright Page

Me, I Matter

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

William McMurray

Ljubinka’s Valesh (Lu)

Leslie Jeanne

Chapter Fourteen

Author Note:

Me. I Matter Sandra Rains DeBusk

Introduction

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This is for all the Veterans that have served this country. This story is about the pain involved in serving our country and being forgotten, by not only the government, but society. It's about betrayal and distrust. It’s about the dishonor and unfaithfulness of our military. The first part of this book involves and is about, real people, that were poisoned or injured in one way or another by our military. They suffer every day because of this. Some must fight tooth and nail for compensation due to their illnesses and disabilities, thanks to our military. And some, even though not yet these particular people, will die before the government finally pays for their deceit and their lack of comion for another human being. Chapter One Part One Robert lay in the bunk thinking. He was always so afraid that he would get his orders to report in a place that held so much grief, so much pain- fighting and killing. He was only seventeen and was so afraid that he spent his nights praying to God and praying that God would spare him and just let him go home! He had ed the Marines April 1st. April Fool’s day, what a fooling it had been! Had he made a mistake? He was sure he had. He had thought that it would be easier here, easier as a Marine than it had been at home. Home was so hard he had thought but, now lying in his bunk and praying for God to save him, he knew he had been wrong. Home was not hard, and his dad was not hard, and his life was not hard ... this was hard.

“Attention!” The men all stood erect and at attention. Creased and oblivious to the outside world. Robert looked straight ahead, without emotion or expression. Seventeen and scared, he was the molding figure of a marine. Marching was an everyday event. His workout never stopped. Why had he chosen this branch? Why had he chosen any branch? Robert recalled something as if it were a very deep memory and suddenly it emerged like it was yesterday. When he first got there, they had shaved all the boy’s heads carelessly. Some were even bleeding from their heads. Moles and scabs were cut right along with the hair to the scalp. Then they were lined up and given inoculations. He had never seen such brutal shots. They used an air gun injector and walked from one boy to another and shooting their arms with it. Blood splattered over the boys and onto the gun. Is this possibly where he contracted his hepatitis C? Robert thought back to when he had wanted to . Had it really been so long ago? He was sixteen and so eager to get away from his parents, his dad. “I want to the Marines.” Robert was very adamant about this and kept on about it even though his mom didn't want it to happen at all. His dad finally said yes. “Hell, let the boy ! It'll be good for him!” Robert's dad had been in the service and felt every boy should at least go through boot camp. At sixteen he did but, couldn’t go in until he was seventeen and that he did. It was hard; especially for the young boy that he was even at that age. He hadn't even lived life yet and now felt he might have cheated himself. But, now at this point, it was too late to quit. He went straight to Paris Island in South Carolina. It was right by the water and very beautiful ... but, people soon found out that if they tried to escape, the high tide would come in and they would be eaten alive by sand crabs. The boys seemed to calm down on trying to escape. It was there that he was beaten and screamed at and beaten again. He was punched in the stomach and had his breath knocked out of him and he was brought back to and knocked out again. This happened quite a few times, he said. He was trained so hard that he was injured while training. He ended up with stress fractures in both heels from marching ... intense marching as he puts it. He spent seven weeks in the hospital with the healing before he could return to boot camp. He ended up spending twenty weeks in all- in boot camp instead of the normal thirteen weeks, because of his injury. From the hospital he was transported back to basic training.

Robert was afraid ... afraid of this service and of the drill instructors, the Chaplin; you name it ... they all had him scared to death.

Chapter Two

He was young and knew without a doubt that the government would not be held able even if they ended up killing him. The Marine Corps could scream, one inch from your face - degrade you and humiliate you, and you could not retaliate. He was sure this technique was a power trip, the government is not able for anything, and anyone working under them is not held able. Your mom and dad were now a figment of your memories; no longer responsible for you, no longer your parents. The government- the Marine Corp- those became your parents now. He spent many nights in his bunk silently crying and praying to God. Then he'd hear screams from the drill instructor telling everyone to get up. This was miserable for him, for all the young soldiers. He felt that even using the restroom while in boot camp was miserable. He found that he wasn't even able to go to the restroom for two weeks after arriving at boot camp and then when he finally was able, he wasn't allowed to relax. It was a rush job; Hurry up and relieve yourself and run. He was so scared and so depressed, it was a horrible feeling for such a young kid. The service was not at all like anything he had imagined. It was truly hard, and the instructors were truly cruel, and mean, to the soldiers to be. This would have scared any young man, and it did scare Robert. He ed how he broke down one day and wrote his parents a letter. “Please mom and dad, please get me out of here! It is terrible here! I don't want to be here mom and dad!” A couple of weeks later he was taken to the Chaplin’s office and it was there that he was beaten. Apparently, his father had called the Chaplin and talked to him about his son's letter. His father was concerned and thought that talking to the Chaplin would ensure better and fair treatment for his son, and that the Chaplin would somehow understand that his son was still a child and would keep his son safe. His dad never knew how wrong he was! Robert endured a severe beating from the Chaplin and drill instructors. They knocked his breath out until he

ed out, and then brought him back to reality, and knocked him out again. They did this repeatedly and then forced Robert to write yet, a second letter: “Dear Mom and dad, I love this place. I am happy and having a great time. I am soon to be promoted and I am very proud to be a Marine. Please do not worry about me, I am fine.” They mailed this letter to his parents and Robert decided that he had best try to make the best of it in the Marines. He knew there was no way out now. Robert continued for quite some time to lay in his bunk at night and cry himself to sleep. This eventually ed as the weeks went on and soon, he was able to fall straight to sleep from sheer exhaustion. He told me on many occasions about how the men in boot camp training were able to eat very little the first couple of weeks. I believe the service tried to cleanse their bodies ... get the junk out, make them lose weight so that when they did eat, it turned to muscle instead of fat with all the vigorous training they did. Yet the lack of food and a case of bad nerves they had, was the reason he did not have a bowel movement for the first two weeks. Robert also told me of how they had what they call - Swim training. Okay, this consisted of being thrown out in to twelve to eighteen-foot-deep water and staying afloat for an hour. He says some of the boys didn't know how to swim and because of that, they drowned. “You see, you had to stay above water and stay afloat, and, you weren’t allowed to touch the sides or give up. You swam, or you drowned. Some drowned. Someone would jump in, bring them back and make them do it again.” Robert, being a level thinker even as a boy of seventeen, knew that if he inhaled deeply and filled his body with air, releasing the air slowly, and filling it up again, he could stay afloat, and that's what he did. Author note: What amazes me is that most men won't tell exactly what happened to them in the service, and so no one knows. But I have talked Robert into telling his story. He does say that the Marines made a hell of a man out of him. Many of my personal friends are in this story.

All the things they did to my husband, contributed to the man that he has always been and is today. But, was it right? Does the military; the government, know what they have created because of their treatment of these boys? Do they realize the damage they have done to the mental and emotional status of these perfect boys, now men? You decide.

Robert was sent to Camp Lejeune. There, he would take welding as his chosen profession. He didn't really know why he chose it, but nothing else on the list they could choose from looked very good, so welding it was. He spent twentyfour weeks in Camp Lejeune. After that he was sent to Camp Pendleton in California. It was there that he met up with an old friend he'd grown up with. Donald. After a little while he and Donald decided that neither one of them wanted to do this Marine stuff anymore. They took off and thumbed through eight states. California, Nevada, Arizona, Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, and right on to Ohio. They were able to catch one ride to Ohio. At about the Seventh state over and granted that the guy hadn't planned to take them all the way to Ohio, but the fellow fell asleep in the back seat and Donald and Robert decided to go on to Ohio before they woke him up. The man was shocked when he woke up. He was shocked that he was in Ohio, after telling the boys he didn't plan to go that far. “You go straight on down that way and it'll take you right to Michigan.” Robert told him. That made both boys feel much better about taking advantage of the guy and his vehicle. They both took off walking before the guy could say anymore. The boys walked on into Dayton, Ohio, where they then called and let Robert's sister, Sondra Kay, know they were coming. By the time they made it to his sister’s house the cops were waiting on them. She had called the cops on them! Robert was so mad at her that he was blown away with disbelief. They went straight to jail to wait on the cross-country chasers for the Marine Corps. The chasers picked them up, and they rode on the Greyhound bus handcuffed to each other, from Dayton Ohio to several towns picking up more deserters as they went. Robert says that if while on the bus you had to use the bathroom, then you had to take your partner with you because you were handcuffed to one another. One of the boys would have to hold their arm out of the door while the other used the restroom and vice versa. There was no privacy whatsoever. He also says that while you sat in the bus seat, you had to sit at attention, not looking either way, no looking out the windows and you were not allowed to talk. While on the way the guards would beat them unmercifully, over and over. They could not fight back. Robert and Donald wanted to die, and maybe even felt like they

were dying. They rode this bus all the way to The Great Lakes in Illinois. They were then placed on a cargo plane and handcuffed to the floor of the plane. They rode this way, all the way to San Diego California. At this point Robert was returned to the Company’s Commander, and Donald was sent to the military brig. Robert knew this was not fair. Donald was being punished and he himself was getting off easy because he was friends with the Commanding Officer. But, life at seventeen was just what it was, and it was every boy for himself, it seemed. Robert was restricted to the Barracks. He did his time willingly. As terrible as he might have felt for Donald, he would not make it harder on himself by complaining. What child would have? Robert decided after that incident, to buckle down and be a Marine, doing his four years and keeping his nose clean, at all cost.

Chapter Three

His welding job continued, and he did straighten up. He began to take his Marine job seriously. He was stationed with the 1st Marine Division. The shop where he worked at, was right on the beach in California. It was indeed beautiful. Robert not only welded, he also participated in all the training that came with it. This was called PTF training. Robert was raised a rank from E-3 to E-4, and so on. All through the four years, you'd get called to duty, to do various jobs. One job Robert held was a files clerk. He did that for a few months. It wasn't hard and really, he could have done it for the whole four years, it was that easy but, he was glad he didn't have too because, it was that boring! He was also titled Expert Rifleman. He was an expert shot, and it seemed that he mastered most everything he attempted. His next job was being Corporal of The Guard. This job entailed securing restricted area posts centuries. In total he had fifteen of these. After posting, he and the other guard would drive around and break up fights. Robert and the other guard knew where some of the ideal spots were, and they would hit those. Those ideal spots meant catching soldiers smoking marijuana. They would walk up on these boys and confiscate their drugs, or liquor, or both and let the scared boys go about their business. This way Robert and the guard had all sorts of goodies. This was a fun job. Robert and the other guard would go to the NCO club and they would end up locking Marines up for the night for fighting. This wasn't as much fun, but it got them through the job. He and a few other Marines got a seventy-two-hour

and so they went to the California Jam at Ontario Speedway in Orange County. It was an awesome party. Two days and two nights of drinking and drugs, along with alcohol with music nonstop. It was a blast, and everything was crazy. After his Corporal Jobs, Robert says they had refugees come from Vietnam. “They came in by the hundreds!” He ed. He had a job there too. The service set these refugees up in what looked like circus tents on the base, far off by themselves away from anyone or anything. Fifteen families per tent. Robert's job was to go from tent to tent and ask each family what they might need. Toilet paper, towels, tooth brushes, food and such. He was to make sure these people were as comfortable as possible until an American family adopted them. These Vietnamese families had just come from Saigon and they were poor and dirty and scared, plus they spoke no English. American families would come in and adopt a family and take them home and for that they would be paid. They took care of them until the families found work or received government assistance, such as, welfare or food stamps. Sometimes a marine would marry one of the Vietnamese women. Robert ed thinking to himself. “We have American people living in the United States, on the streets, that the government won't even help” Robert tells of the little Vietnamese boys whom - when they saw a rabbit running around, that they would chase it until it tired out, and then they would catch it and take it home and the family would eat it. He shakes his head telling me; “What's weird is we had a mess hall just for them with all kinds of food, and still they killed animals to eat.”

Chapter Four

Robert told of how one night he walked into a refugee tent and all the men were sitting on one side by themselves ing a bamboo type pipe around and laughing. He found out that they had smuggled pure opium into the country when they came and were now enjoying it. Robert recalls that he did not turn them in to the commanding officer. Why? He doesn't really know. He thinks it's because he thought of how hard they had already had it, and really, what were they hurting? After the refugee job, Robert went back to welding. He waited patiently on his April twelfth honorable discharge. Robert said that while welding they would get crates of guns that were covered in germs and blood in at the shop and his job was to look them over and fix them and if they couldn't be fixed then he was to destroy them. The blood covered weapons would cause him to think later in life also. April twelfth came and Robert was discharged honorably. He managed to be discharged as an E4 and was very proud of himself. All the way home he imagined that once he arrived at his destination his family would be there waiting for him, they would be happy to see him, and all would be happy go lucky. He couldn't wait! He was in uniform and sitting proud on that bus! He was now a free man. A Marine. When the bus arrived in his hometown, he let several people go ahead of him. He watched as each had a family running to them and embracing them. This caused Roberts stomach to flutter because he just knew when he finally got off that bus himself, that his family would run to him too and would be proud of him, and smiling from ear to ear, while hugging him. He just knew it! Robert stepped off the bus and looked toward all the people standing and waiting for their sons and husbands. Robert looked at each one of them. He recognized none of them. Surely, he was overlooking his own family. The awful truth finally hit him. No one was there to greet him. No one had come to pick him up to give him a lift home. No one had come to hug him or praise him. He began his walk home. His heart hurt and his feelings were hurt but, he was a marine now, and he would not let it show. Maybe a tear trickled down from his eye. Maybe one. But he refused to cry. He was a man now.

He was strong and proud. Robert continued walking home. The front door was unlocked. No one was in the living room. He walked on through the house and while ing the bathroom he saw his dad in his standing in front of the mirror, in his underwear, shaving. “Hey son, I see your home.” “Yeah dad, I'm home.” Robert went to find his mom. She was in bed sleeping. “Why couldn't they be like other parents and show him that they cared about him and were proud of him for what he had accomplished?” Robert thought to himself. It never ceased to amaze him just how screwed up his whole life had been. Robert worked a few jobs after the service and went to school as well. The service paid him to go to school and to be honest, Robert had always been all about the money! He says that one time he was on his way to cash one of his checks, but he had to be at school to take a final test and he had very little time to do both. He was running in to the place that cashed his checks for him. He was running and tripped on a car stop, breaking his ankle. He did cash his check by the way, and then he hurried to the school. He literally crawled up the stairs to his class and literally crawled in to his room. “Mr. DeBusk, are you okay?” The teacher asked. “Yes, I'm here to take the test!” Robert got to his seat and sat down. He hurriedly took the test and left, going straight to the hospital. Yes, it was broken. He found out later that he had ed the test, even with all the pain he had been in. Many years have ed between the service days and now, but Robert recalls the many jobs he’d had in between then, and now. Pumping gas and then painting. He chose the job of painting as his civilian profession. He was an awesome spray king, and an awesome painter with just his hands as well. He painted million-dollar homes and mansions, and he made excellent money at it. He's half blind now, even with glasses, and he’s very sick too, but he can still put any other painter I’ve ever seen, to shame. This is his God given gift, well, painting and cooking. Robert is an excellent cook, he can prepare some awesome food!

After working miracles for other people, he decided to give it a go on his own. He started his own business. He named it after his first daughter Nicole. He named it “Nickie’s Painting.” He made a lot of money, so much so, that he couldn't spend it fast enough! He was so good at his job and worked so hard at its day and night, that he ended up in the hospital from exhaustion. He re that he was getting calls in the hospital from people wanting him to work for them and paint their houses, or people wanting to know when he would be done with their house. Life was good. exhausting, but good. Then his life fell apart. He and his second wife, divorced. One night after his divorce, he had been out to a bar and had-had a few drinks. He also had a female for company at the bar. For some reason, they had begun to argue. He didn’t like arguing, so he stood up and walked out, leaving her behind. He walked down the street. He turned and crossed the street and continued to walk. Suddenly out of nowhere, he was struck by a car. He re being yanked out of his boots. He re riding on top of this car with his leg under it, for a good distance. He says the girl didn't even slow down. A seven-teen year old girl who had been fighting with her boyfriend, didn't see Robert walking on the side of the street, and hit him with her car, going forty miles per hour. He was rushed by ambulance to the trauma center. There he would undergo blood transfusions. Several to be exact, and along with surgeries. His leg was broken in twelve different places. Shattered. At one point the doctors told him that they would have to amputate the leg. Robert refused. They told him they would have to give him blood, Robert also refused this himself but, his girlfriend whom he'd been fighting with, lied and said she was his wife, and she gave permission for them to give him blood, and so they did. They had cut his leg in two places to allow release of swelling. Each day they would come in and literally rip the bandages off, taking infected product with it, and cleanse and then replace the bandages. Robert re screaming for pain medication whenever he woke up day after day in pain. He also re that there was one male nurse that took mercy on him, where all the other female nurses had taken all they could stand of his screaming and complaining. This particular male nurse would hear him yell and come running

with the pain medicine. Robert says he could hear the click of the man's shoes when he ran down the hallway. They put a rod and screws in Robert's leg during one of the surgeries. Robert says the rod was too long and when they'd try to get him to do therapy and bend his leg, it would practically kill him, the pain was so intense. He says he kept telling them that the rod was too long. Finally, they did an x-ray and saw that it was far too long. They had to replace it; another surgery. Robert had to learn to walk again using that leg. The doctors had told him that he wouldn't walk again but, he did, and he has since, very well in fact for a crippled guy. He eventually made them take the rod and screws out. They didn't think this was wise, but he knew what he wanted, and so they did what he wanted. After about a year he went back to work. He was no longer working for himself though, he was working for a place called Midwest Painting. But Robert was their main man, he was an expert. Like with most everything, it seemed. His reputation for being an awesome man followed him through life. So far in life, Robert has been married two times. The first time was while he was in the service. Her name is unimportant, but the fact that she was a drug addict didn't help matters. She drank and collected cats off the streets and made his life hard. She moved her munching brother in, for Robert to too. The marriage didn't last. They had no kids together and so Robert sold everything they owned and moved on. His second marriage was a little different. This is where his first child came into the picture. Nicole. He says he married Theresa because she got pregnant and it was the right thing to do. She was a good person; she worked all the time and he supposed she was a good mother. But she was spoiled and didn't know how to clean or cook and after fourteen years he decided he'd best move on. He says it was messy to begin with, and it hurt him also by the whole mess hurting Nicole, but he couldn't go on with it. He tried to keep in touch with his daughter but, eventually she got wrapped up in friends and had no time for him. It has now been fourteen years since he's seen her. We have stopped by together to see her, but she was never there. Then one day we reached her by phone, and she seemed happy and talked to Sarah. She promised to pick Sarah up and do make up with her and do their hair together and Sarah waited.

A couple of weeks later we called again. Sarah was excited to have a big sister and wanted to talk to her and find out when she could stay with her. Nicole talked to me. She told me she didn't have time for this crap and to tell her dad that “One conversation doesn't change things” I say, shame on her. She hasn't called him since and she hasn't come to see him. She makes no effort. It has been fourteen years. She is a grown woman now with kids of her own. Robert has never seen his grandsons. Robert and I have been together Seventeen years now. Eleven of those years, married. Robert's service back ground has made it hard on us. He's a screamer and he's angry along with stubborn. He has had this family in boot camp for seventeen years. In 2001 we found out that Robert has Hepatitis C. We were at the VA, and they told him. When he told me on the elevator- I dropped to my knees. I didn't know what it was, I had never heard of it, but it sounded bad. We came straight home and I began researching it. He had, for about a year had so many bad days. Vomiting, headaches, fatigue and sometimes even fever. His blood pressure would go all out of whack, and he even ended up in the VA hospital for eleven days once, due to his blood pressure, and of course all the other things wrong with him at the time. And, to be honest, my daughter and I were the only ones who visited with him each day. His brother came once toward the end of his stay. His mother and sister never came. They'd go get their hair done, their nails, but didn’t go to see him. I nursed him day in and day out during these spells. We had no idea at this time what was wrong with him. One day in October about nine years ago, he had an appointment at the VA and while we were there, they told him that he had Hepatitis C. The problem with this was that it took them a year from the time they found it in his blood to even tell us. Like I said before, we had no idea what this disease was, we had never heard of it. After I researched it, I came up with the fact that it is contagious through blood. Just about the same Aids. Here we had a daughter together, and I won't lie, we had unsafe sex every time, together. This scared me. I went and had myself checked. I had all our kids checked. Negative. Robert ended up getting Social security. I had a lot to do with that too.

Chapter Five

He didn't have a lawyer, he didn't need one. They had left his claim open since the accident. The VA found him to be 100% disabled, but non-service connected. The only good with that was free medical for him and with all that is wrong with him. I guess we should thank God, for at least the free medical. He went to a local hospital and after a couple of doctors found out that he had hepatitis C, they wanted to give him an experimental drug. Use him as a guinea pig, they said. He was all for it because the treatment was very expensive, and there is no way we could have paid for it ourselves. They say it costs eighty thousand dollars per year, for this treatment. He was there, and already for his first treatment, and a doctor came out and told him he was not going to get it. He didn't qualify. What the doctor meant by that was that Robert couldn't pay and even though they had previously told him he would get it free, they had changed their minds. Robert was heartbroken. All that he could think of was, that he was going to be sick; terribly sick for a very long time, and then die early because of the disease. He stayed depressed. The VA hadn't mentioned giving him treatments, but eventually Robert mentioned it to them. They wanted to do a liver biopsy first. This would involve a hospital stay. He would be cut. They would cut a piece of his liver and then he would have to lie perfectly still for twelve to Twenty- four hours. Robert told me that he wouldn't let them do it. He was scared that they would mess up, and he would bleed out. They told him the percentage rate for death from the biopsy, and he decided it was too big of a risk. “Sandy, it scares me to think they will be cutting into my liver, I'm nervous and don't want to let them do it.” I replied as softly as I could. “Then, don't Robert. If you feel bad about it, don't

do it.” I was as scared as he was! He told his doctor and after a few days they decided to go ahead with the treatment even without the biopsy. Robert began the treatments. Oh my God, it was an ordeal! Interferon/ Ribavirin treatments. Shots to the legs, thighs and stomach. Either or three times a week, and a handful of pills every day. He did this for three months until one day he told me his mouth hurt. He said it hurt to swallow or eat, and even to drink. I had him open his mouth so I could see inside it, and oh my lord, he had multiple blisters! Great big blisters, all over his tongue and the roof of his mouth, and his throat!

Chapter Six

I immediately called the VA. They told me to stop giving the interferon and ribavirin to him. They said that it was an allergic reaction to the medicine. They said it was rare to have one but, evidently Robert was still one of the few. I put him on Milk Thistle. It’s a natural herb that helps in healing the liver. He took it for about a year before they tested his liver again. They were looking at the spot they had found on it a few years prior. They also constantly tested his blood for the hep C. Eventually what happened was the hepatitis C disappeared; even though they say it can’t; and the spot on his liver shrank. I contribute these things, these changes, to the Milk Thistle. I've found that Milk Thistle is good for a lot of things. Your blood and your liver. Of course, he has stopped the Milk Thistle for about a year now. He has these spots on his liver, spleen and behind his lung, kidney, and a spot behind his eye. We know now that his cancer is progressed to the last stages and this is heart breaking for us. Now on the funny side of life; I'm sure everyone who's ever been in the service knows that a lot of service men and women smoke marijuana. Most of the world smokes it. Robert says that marijuana is a miracle plant. It gives people with cancer an appetite, and it helps them maintain or gain weight. It helps the nerves also. I would imagine it is addictive, but, most of everything that doctors prescribe is. Marijuana is a plant and it grows naturally. People smoke it, or eat it, and most likely if they can figure out how, they might even snort it. Back to the story on hand; Robert then found a lump in his breast in 2003. He went to the VA and a very good doctor there found two, not one. He very quickly removed them both, soon after the visit. Days later, that same doctor called Robert. He sounded like he wanted to cry. He told Robert that the lumps he had removed from his breast were cancerous. First hepatitis C, and now Lymphoma Cancer. This threw us for a loop. Robert would soon find out he had grade two and stage four Indolent Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma. We were both informed of this, but for some reason I did not do any great length of researching about it. Maybe it was God not wanting us to worry. From 2003 to now, they have removed skin cancer and cancerous lumps. They have done no chemotherapy of any kind.

Chapter Seven

Robert and I were watching the news not long ago and saw a special on Camp Lejeune. Men and women that had been there in the service between 1970, and 1985, were being diagnosed with breast cancer and types of Lymphoma. They said it was even hereditary and ed down to biological children. They said they were linking such things to the water supply at Camp Lejeune. So, nine times out of ten, the cancer and his hepatitis C and his dementia and Sarah, our 15-year-old daughter's birth defect; A complete extra thumb on one hand; are a direct result of him drinking the water at Camp Lejeune. Not only drinking it but showering in it and cooking with it also. We are still trying to prove it. That's the thing about our government, you see, they can kill you and make you sick and they can damage you in many ways, but even though there's proof staring them right in the eyes, and it's written on the wall, you still have to “prove” it by their crooked standards. They won't just say, “Okay, we messed up and it's our fault, so here, let’s make your life a little more comfortable because we messed up.” Nope, not a chance of them saying that. You must suffer first or maybe forever, and then in the end they will give you a spot in one of their many Cemeteries and give you an outdated headstone. That is what they will do, proof or no proof. Life has a way of smacking you in the face hard then laughing at you. did you ever notice that? They say time heals all wounds but, sometimes in my own opinion, time can be your worst enemy. Things grow worse over time, like cancer. To date Robert has had so much cancer burnt off and cut out that he's a walking band aid. When will it end in his favor? I keep thinking to myself that if they knew Robert the way I do, they would do more for him, they would protect him the way he protected them. But they don't know the Robert we all know. They don't know he sings and dances while he cooks wonderful food. They don't know how blue his eyes can be when he's being serious or romantic. They don't know how he plays with the kids to make them laugh and while doing stupid stuff that normal people wouldn't do, just to hear them laugh. They don't know how giving he is or how he took care of the old man down the street who lost his wife a few years ago- taking him meals, fixing his house, being his friend. They don't know how comionate he is, and how God fearing he is, and that he

prays every day. They don't know how good he can sing when he's happy and worry free. How soft his lips are when he kisses me, or how solid his chest feels or how strong his arms are. They don't know how he still to this day protects those he loves in a heartbeat. If they knew all of this about him, would it matter even then? The government doesn't know enough about their men and women or about my Robert. They need to learn to get to know who it is that they owe their complete thanks to. Who it is that saved their lives and the lives of their children, grandchildren, wives, brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers? They need to learn and appreciate every single one of those veterans. It's not over yet, we are still praying, and I'm asking God to keep the love of my life, my soul-mate, my night and shining armor, my true love and friend, with me and I'm making a solid effort to forgive them, the government, and I'm praying that God helps me to do just that.” May God bless and protect our men, our boys at war and keep them safe, and may God bring the rest of them home to us safe. I sat down one day and imagined the worst. I tried to see if I could write what I would feel if Robert ed. This is what I came up with. To Robert My Love A moment to his touch upon my skin A moment to imagine my life without him I walk through the door slowly I try not to see The bed that he now lays in alone and without me I pray for God to spare me

the memories rushing through As I walk to where you lay to say goodbye to you I know only that I need you and that I do not want to be in this world without you to love and protect me And as I reach you, I look at how peaceful you seem and I long to hear your voice speaking sweetly to me I long to see your blue eyes as you say “I love you” But I know I never will again For your life with me is through And as I kiss your now cold lips I long to lay by you and close my eyes and stop my heart I long to stay with you No one will ever know the pain I feel inside

and you will never know Today is the day I died.

Chapter Eight

The story Of William McMurray Jr William is such a sweet person. He is very Godly and very comionate. He, like Robert and every other veteran who served this country, does not deserve this from those who were and are, in charge. William was born at the old NRSC Naval Hospital on Oct. 24, 1982. His father, a hospital corpsman and Vietnam veteran, had moved his family in to base housing within the year prior to his birth. He is disabled due to military contamination. He to date, has been diagnosed with; Spina Bifida, Asperger syndrome, Tourette syndrome, Bipolar disorder and Organic brain dysfunction. These are just a few of the diseases he suffers from, since birth. Ailments his doctors couldn't explain for the first twenty years of his life until they learned about the water contamination aboard Camp Lejeune. He had spent so long not knowing why he was the way he was, until the doctors finally found the link between his conditions and the outcome of them. By the time he was born his mother had already had one miscarriage, and spent months drinking and using the polluted water in the Tarawa Terrace base home. Due to genetic damage from agent orange linked from his father's days of serving in the shell back initiative on land and water and sea and the effects of the polluted water, he was born in a specialized laboratory. Because of his multiple dysfunctions the doctors didn't expect him to live very long. Even if he were able to survive the doctors told his parents that he would never be able to walk due to the multiple exposures linked genetically from his father's active duty days, and from the polluted water at camp Lejeune. He did prove them wrong however, but not without consequence. As he grew up his development stalled, and he was barely able to speak. It took years before he uttered his first words, and he spent most of his childhood in and out of hospitals undergoing tests for the myriad of conditions with which he had been diagnosed with since birth. When he finally came to with his conditions in 2010, he took this case to Veteran's Affairs- whom he has been fighting with ever since.

By 2011 good news for veterans and dependents began to trickle out as the EPA officially ruled the Camp Lejeune water contaminant TCE to be a human carcinogen. In early 2008 congress started rewriting/revising the title code 38 rewrites also known by what they now call the simplified VA laws, and regulations. VA's original laws in the past were very technical in nature. In early 2008 the legion of valor as officer by the name of Thomas L. Gentile brought before US congress which handled the approvals for a couple of agent orange individual’s relief/survivor ship reference cases. Overall the very first reference case involved William Joseph McMurray Jr. and my father, being Vietnam era veteran of the shell back initiative. The case was known by many as the ice breaker case. The reference case was finally approved in June/2008 after the talks of approving the simplified laws. Thomas L. Gentile was the at retirement age used this last of his time in making sure that the reference cases were approved. These reference cases were agent orange related involving dependents that were considered highly exposed over the limit linked genetically. It was not until later known that agent orange was also at Camp Lejeune. The reference cases were approved, and all the information was ed down the chain of command to all the agencies social security VA, etc. William has had such a hard and trying life. The question is why? The answers are deep within our government offices and the answers may always be there and may always remain there. Is it fair? Absolutely not!

William McMurray

Chapter Nine Ljubinka’s (Lu) Story She was the wife of a Marine at Camp Pendleton in 1977 to 1978. She had several miscarriages there, not knowing why. She finally became pregnant there and became very ill with Toxemia. Her blood pressure was very high. The pregnancy was induced as both her and their baby were at risk of dying. She had all the symptoms of Carcinoid cancer. It was diagnosed, as a differential, at that time. As soon as she gave birth, she had severe bleeding - now associated with her blood cancer, slow leukemia, Myeloproliferative Neoplasm. She was anemic, weak and very ill. She was advised to get off the base ASAP and go back to Illinois to live with her family to help care for her infant daughter. She did. Her husband and she got divorced so he could go back into the Marine Corps. He got out on a hardship discharge when Lu was the sickest and in the hospital for days. To date she is stage 4 Neuroendocrine cancer, ovarian primary. Palliative care referred her to hospice, but she declined. She has outlived that six months. Both ovaries were to be removed, but she failed the surgical consult. She had a heart attack recently. With the echo stress test, she could only walk a minute and showed there was diminished pumping action of the heart. She would need Stints put in during an anagram, if there was blockage. But she cannot take aspirin because the blood cancer expert said that she should never stay on any type of aspirin due to bleeding problems because all platelet aggregation tests were markedly abnormal. She has had heart problems since Camp Pendleton. It is known as- Mitral Valve Prolapse and LGL syndrome- with very rapid heart rate. She has severe asthma, diabetes, migraines, Macrocytosis, endometriosis, cervical cancer -CIN 1, with NEGATIVE HPV-, among others. This is somethings that I have learned personally about Lu. I know that she has a heart of gold. She is a wonderful mother and grandmother. She is a wonderful wife. She is also an amazing friend. Lu does not deserve any of this. The same as any other soldier, she is reaping the benefits of a forgetful government.

Ljubinka’s Valesh (Lu)

Chapter Ten Leslie Jeanne Navy Dependent (Civilian) Leslie’s dad and brother died at a young age. Both from heart attacks. She found it unnerving to say the least. She told herself “we were programmed to die at an early age. It was simply genetics.” she said. After having a heart attack at age 49, she was convinced. Someone had to have been watching over her that day, as she did survive to tell her story. Her life, as part of the military, was an exciting one. She could that knowledge back to when she was very young. her family had lived in the most exotic of places. Japan, the Philippines. They had also lived in Virginia, North Carolina and New York. During this time, they lived in - off base housing and her dad was the only one who worked on the base. When they moved to New York and settled into their new lives, she noticed that things were just not right. She was tired all the time and her abdomen was distended. Although she would state she didn’t feel well; things just stayed the same. It wasn’t until she started going to the doctor as an adult, that she began to find out the oddest of illnesses. Elevated liver enzymes, a liver disorder. When she was diagnosed with autoimmune hepatitis, the doctor said to her; “Now where did you get that? You can only get this if you ingest something from the environment.” She didn’t know. But did request copies of the biopsy and blood work to save for future reference. It wasn’t until after she was exposed to the West Nile Virus and her mother’s subsequent death from cancer that, she found out about the water contamination at Camp Lejeune, in North Carolina. As a Navy dependent, it was difficult finding the information that she needed. The focus of the investigation fell mainly on those who lived and worked on base. She said, “With the fact that my dad - who worked there died- why did my brother and mother die too? Why was I so ill?”

What she did end up finding in her search for answers, were all the toxic chemicals they had been exposed to as dependents living in the military. How it didn’t matter if you lived on or off the base, the toxins were still present. She mentioned the West Nile Virus within the context of this story, as it triggered every dormant illness caused by exposure to toxins in our drinking water. She never wanted to have to it to such a thing. She never wanted to find out such a thing. A long time ago, she had said to her husband; “There is something wrong with me and one day we are going to find out what it is.” And they did. As she still reflects on the excitement of their life with the military, the places they lived, she can’t help but feel somewhat saddened by the outcome.

Leslie Jeanne

Chapter Eleven What happens to all the Veterans who survive the service while in the service, but that do not survive being in the service, after the service? Make sense? How many Veterans are suffering from deadly? diseases or losing limbs, legs, arms, eyes, because of their time served, protecting us? This book is for them, all of them. Every single brave soldier who has been betrayed by our country. This book is for the Veteran's that do still matter to those of us who them! To begin this, you all must know how many of us men and women, have died in all the wars for this country. Because and for other countries’ sake? Have you ever really thought about the sacrifice our boys and our men, our women - have made to do just that; protect us- everyone one of us? It's a never-ending battle it seems. Never ending yet fulfilling somehow for those who are fighting it- the war and every single war. I praise all who have gone to fight and protect us and all who have died trying and all who have survived. I know a Jar head- a devil dog - a leather neck. But this book is not about just him. No.

This book is for my friends and this is for all our branches of service; all our devoted and faithful hero’s; all who have just barely survived or not survived at all. Those who carry with them- battle wounds such as Hepatitis C, or NonHodgkin Lymphoma, or P.T.S.D, skin cancer, agent orange, or A.L.S. Any illness or disease or injury, mental or physical; because of our government and their lack of comion. These are diseases that will bring you down to your knee's in a heartbeat, when they rear their ugly heads! They are sometimes called, Silent Dragons. This book is for all our men and women who have bravely taken a stand and bravely and selflessly risked their lives. It's about the reasons and the outcome, and it’s about the courage they have shown and the betrayal they are faced with, every day. I salute you brothers and sisters. I salute you for your bravery, and your desire to be all you can be! God Bless you! This next part involves fictitious character’s yes but, somewhere in this country lives each one of these soldiers.

Chapter Twelve Tommy wheeled his wheelchair up to the front desk. He would sign his name and wait in the long line to see his specialist; His VA doctor. Just like he did once every month for a mere checkup. During this check up, he would have to give blood and give urine for they wanted to see how his Hepatitis C was progressing, and in a sneaky yet open way, to see if he was still smoking marijuana and if they found any at all in his system, they would quickly yank away his pain medication he took for his severed limb; the leg that still felt attached and ached like a mother fucker all the time. No, he couldn't deal with that at all ... it was enough that he was minus a leg, and it enough he was sick with hepatitis c and cancer and so, he figured the least they could do is give him his medication and leave him the hell alone about his weed. They wouldn't though... not if they knew. He was a full-fledged Cannabis and did not care what anyone thought about it! Or who knew about it ... except for the VA of course. The government hooked him. That was his story and he was sticking to it. Tommy signed his name and rolled his chair back to the wall out of the way. This could be an all-day wait and he knew it but, he had to wait ... he had to wait to get his refills. It wasn't enough that the service had cost him a leg or cost him his life even, in the long run ... no that wasn't enough at all for them, they still felt the need to belittle him and make him feel less than... less than a man. Tommy had found out long ago that life was full of shits and giggles ... full of unexpected bullshit and full of unmerciful pain.

This VA was no different than when he was at war. It was a fight with tooth and nail, in one way or another, regardless of how worn you were or how sick and tired. He looked around at all the Veterans that sat beside and across from him. They looked pitiful and lost and last, but not least, they looked like him. One old man he noticed first. Tommy watched as he sat drooling as if he were dumb founded but, Tommy knew it was because he was on so much medicine. Medicine he probably didn't even need. Another man sat talking to himself and oblivious to his surroundings. He had an escort and was being babysat by an older man who acted as though he could not wait to take his cigarette break. And then there was a woman; she was half way pretty even with the damage on her face. But she sat twiddling her thumbs and looking around nervously as if she was so paranoid, she could not breath. There were many more people there waiting like Tommy, but these three people...they stood out to him. The longer he sat there, the worse he felt. Tommy sat quietly waiting and looking around at all the other veterans that also waited. He knew deep in his heart that most of these veterans were like him...fed up and fed up with the bullshit that the government dishes out to all its veterans...but mainly because their minds could not handle their physical conditions and their emotional memories and or their emotional damage. This was not right or fair...at all. These people, including himself, had without question and without reserve and without thought, fully served this country proudly and here... this is how they were treated...like they didn't matter ...like they were burden's and the bottom line was, like they were dogs. Tommy thought about that last thought, and made a note to himself that - he really liked dogs and he

wouldn't use that as an example again. The truth was and would always remain that, Tommy was a soft spoken and gentle soul. He would say nothing at all about how he felt or how he hated the prejudice against veterans. He was honest and he himself, was always fair. Unlike this government. Tommy was also very God fearing. He was raised Baptist and would remain a believer and follower of Christ. As a child, he went to church faithfully. He worshiped faithfully and he loved it. He loved God. But he did question himself many times while in Nam. He questioned if it was right or good or fair...if God would agree with his decision to and to fight and to protect? He did believe that his faith in God, was why he even made it back home to begin with but, he wondered if because what he did while he was in there, was why he was now damaged...maybe it was punishment for his sins against humanity, and against God? His faith had carried him and seen him through war and depression. But, even with God- he knew what the service was...he knew how they were, and they were so good at teaching lessons. The service had taught him one thing to a T...never ever doubt what God has in store for you and never trust anyone. A thin and not so happy to be there- nurse, walked from the inner hall way and called his name. "Thomas Jenkins?" her squirreling voice echoed and his skin crawled. Tommy sat quiet for a moment staring at her. She came across as a bitch to the normal human but, he knew her well enough to know she too had- had a hard life. She had told him about it herself, a long time ago. Tommy released the lock on his chair and rolled himself toward her, shaking his head. "Yes ma'am!" She walked in front of him and then slowed down to get beside him. "Roll with

me please...I'm sure you know the routine, Mr. Jenkins." She smiled sweetly at him...softening up some after realizing who it was, she would be spending the next fifteen minutes with. Tommy shook his head and laughed out loud. Turning his head toward the nurse he motioned at his leg, or better still, his lack of one. "Oh yeah...I know the routine alright!" Tommy wheeled himself into the room after she entered it, and stopped by the chair that sat in the corner of the room and wheeled his chair forward and backward until he was positioned just right. "Okay, Mr. Jenkins, what brings you here today?" Nurse Emily grabbed her blood pressure kit and walked toward him talking. "Um...it's my regular checkup for my refills, Ma'am." "Oh, that's right...I’m sorry Mr. Jenkins...there’s too many of you men coming in and out, in one day." "Yeah, I know...the waiting room is full." Tommy kind of chuckled to himself. "Yes Sir, it sure is!" The nurse took his blood pressure then sat at the desk and started typing. Tommy sat quiet for quite a few minutes and then he spoke again. Clearing his throat, he began. "So...how long will it be before Doctor Landon comes in to see me?" "Oh ...it shouldn't be too long Mr. Jenkins, she's moving pretty fast today!" "Okay...I'll just sit tight here, then." He rolled his eyes as she walked out knowing full well, he could sit for another hour waiting some more.

Just as she shut the door and he managed to roll his eyes, she swung it open again. "I’m sorry...I forgot that you'll need to give me a urine sample Mr. Jenkins and have your blood drawn. We have to check and make sure your cancer is under control." "Oh, yes...yes, that's right. It feels under control...it sure does." Tommy was looking at his hands as he spoke. Damn this place. How he hated coming here. Damn it anyway! "Well, that's really good, Tommy. Okay, now follow me to the restroom.” she said, as she handed him a cup. “And fill this to this line and tighten the lid before you bring it back to me." "Of course.” Tommy answered... as he took the cup. “It should only take me a minute or two”. Thinking to himself how he had to piss like a Russian race horse. Tommy wheeled himself in to the bathroom and slowly and accurately lifted himself out of the wheel chair, and leaned against the wall beside the commode. He unzipped his pants and urinated in the cup. His faith in the tea he drank before his urine tests was undaunted! He knew he would it...he always had, and had faith that he always would. He tightened the lid and sat back down in his chair. He let out a deep breath. He was so tired lately, and it really made him feel quite stupid, especially when he wheeled around in a chair all day! He silently prayed to himself that his cancer really was under control. Tommy knocked on the bathroom door and the nurse opened it, allowing him to wheel his way out. "Okay, Mr. Jenkins, now for the blood draw." She said in a matter of fact tone. Tommy followed her down the hallway to a cubbyhole hole in the corner where he would wait

once again. The wait wasn't long seeing how he was first in line. After the urine and the blood ordeal, the nurse led him back to the room where she left him alone while he waited for his doctor. The doctor, a foreign woman, walked in smiling. Tommy cleared his throat, and once again looked down at his hands. Doctor’s... nurses...they all made him nervous...they all made him want to get the hell out of there. "Hello Mr. Jenkins. How are you feeling today?" She was soft spoken and sweet, he supposed, but she worked for the government and therefore, he did not trust her in the least. Deep in his mind he wanted to...but deep in his heart, he just couldn’t. "I'm feeling okay, doctor Landon." Tommy looked her straight in the eyes as he spoke. She always liked that about him, and he wouldn't have it any other way. "Good... that’s great, Thomas! So, you need your medicines renewed, am I right?" She was reading something on the computer as she spoke, and this aggravated Tommy...always had, and he was sure it aggravated the other veterans also. The fact was, that she paid little eye or physical with him, mostly she read off the computer. "Yes Ma'am." Tommy just wanted to get the hell out of there...he was so sick of dealing with this crooked government in any way, shape, or form! "I see...so your pain medication is working, Thomas?" "Yes Ma'am, it is!" "Okay, good and have you been taking your blood pressure medicines, correctly?" "Yes Ma'am, I have!" "Alright then, Mr. Jenkins, I will renew your medications and I will see you again in three months!"

It was finally over! Tommy thought. "Yes ma'am." Tommy finally got to leave the VA and headed home in one of the VA cabs. He always dreaded these visits with the VA, they never really spent much time on a person. The person always ended up waiting two hours to be seen for a fiveminute check-up.

Chapter Thirteen Lyle Delaney lay on his couch depressed as always. Some days he just couldn't force himself to move. How many times had he contemplated killing himself? Too many to mention. He was so sick of his life. He had nightmares that haunted him every single night and could not maintain a relationship with a woman. Not even one he loved dearly, or even one with God, himself. Lyle rolled over onto his other side. The room was silent besides the low music that played on his stereo. He had always loved the oldies...even as a kid. The oldies put him in a certain state of mind...a state that made him not give a shit about anything. He lay and thought about everything in his life that once mattered, but no longer did. Why? Why did he feel this way? The VA had threatened to stick him on all kinds of psychotic drugs for depression but, he wouldn't have it...no way were they going to finish him off, before he was ready. Lyle opened his eyes for a moment; he thought for sure he had heard a knock, but it was a soft knock and he couldn't even swear he'd heard it at all. He listened. There it went again; still so soft, and yet he knew he had heard it! He rose up from his laying position. Who in their right mind would be knocking at my door? The reason he thought this, was because everyone around here knew he was antisocial. Jesus why couldn’t people just leave him the fuck alone!? Every day it was someone, anyone, to make his life a living hell. He slowly walked to the window to peek out, to see who it was. As he looked out, he squinted his eyes. Surely it wasn't who he thought it was? It did look like

her though! Lyle walked to the front door and unlatched it, opening it slowly. He stood staring at her in awe. "Hey Lyle!" The female voice was so soft; memories rushed into his head as he stood there looking at her. "Can I come in Lyle?" She kind of tilted her head to the side, in question. Lyle nodded his head up and down and stepped aside as he opened the door enough for her to slide by him. "What are you doing here Megan?" Megan was his ex-girlfriend. Their relationship had been a rocky one, mainly because of him and his illnesses, and she had -had all she could take, when she finally walked away...broken and gun shy. "I miss you Lyle...I just wanted to see you is all...do you really mind that much?" She was looking all butt hurt, it seemed to him. Lyle Studied her for a moment ...he really had missed her. "Nah, not really, Megan." "Good, can we sit down a bit?" Megan smiled sweetly at him. "Yea, I guess so." Lyle walked to the couch and sat down and motioned for her to him. They exchanged small talk for a little while and then fell silent. Lyle played with his thumbs, turning them back and forth, against each other. Megan watched him. He looked terrible. Depressed, dirty and thin. She thought back a moment to when they shared their lives together. It was good at first, but always had that lingering bad about it. Lyle had a short temper and too many times she had saved him from himself, while she also saved herself from him. Lyle thought about the same things, during this quiet time. He could not help his anger or depression, at all...even as much as he wanted to be able to, he couldn’t. He had seen too much, heard too much, and felt too much, in his life. "So now

what?" Lyle had interrupted her thoughts. She saw him staring at her in question. "Um, I don't know Lyle...I don't know what you mean." Lyle shook his head as he looked away from her. "Why are you really here, Megan?" Megan looked at him for a long moment not saying a word but trying to figure out whether he was happy or sad and she thought to herself that he surely looked sad. "Lyle, I miss you...I want to try us again." Lyle's eyes widened. How could she even suggest? that? How could she even want to? After all he had done to her...to them? "Are you serious?" Lyle's question was blunt...no pussy footing around. Megan laughed aloud. "Yes Lyle, I'm serious...I miss you, and I miss us...very much!" She scooted over beside him and wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing tightly. The smell of her was over whelming; sweet honeysuckle. He wanted her back! He missed her also and, her sweet smell always drove him crazy! He stood up pulling her to him and embracing her tightly. "Okay Megan...I would love that...I miss you too, baby girl!"

Chapter Fourteen

"Come on April, sweet heart, you have to eat!" April didn’t want to eat. This was one of those days that she was so tired of living like this! Her ALS was really giving her fits. Her gift from the service. The VA itted to guilt, and so she went with the flow. April was getting worse by the day, and she knew it. Her children played outside while she sat in this house and wasted away. She didn't blame them of course, they didn't know any better and they were just children, but she knew...she knew she was dying... slowly. "I don't want to eat, Rick. I am not at all hungry... please don't insist on it!" Rick shook his head. He felt like giving up. He walked away, and out of the room. His heart hurt. Worry was weighing him down. She sat there beside her Jesus statue and sulked. Why her? What had she ever done besides be a good person, and fight for this country...this ungrateful country? She stood up and made the bed. It was getting harder and harder each day, to do simple tasks like this. Her arms did not want to work right and her legs gave out all the time. She always felt weak and every now and then her body would twitch uncontrollably. It was even getting hard for her to swallow...and he wanted her to eat? She was getting so thin and looking so damn pale. She knew this! April let go of the bed spread and dropped to her knees beside the bed. It was time to pray...to ask God to spare her of this agony...this emotional and physical pain. She began to cry as she prayed. She cried because of self-pity, and she cried for her children, and she cried for her husband, and for all who loved her. She cried for the anger she had felt for so long toward the government and toward God, for allowing this to happen to her. She thought back to when she turned eighteen and decided to go in to the service. Not just any branch, she chose the Marines! The hardest branch you could . Maybe, she thought, that was why she chose it? Why did she do it? Because she wanted to do what was right and defending this country she felt,

was right. But... and she thought this with sadness...if she hadn't ed... she wouldn't be here right now like this... sick and dying. She was always one to do what was the hardest. She, as a child, chose yard work over dishes, and cutting wood, over babysitting...it was just her nature, she loved a challenge...and the Marines was just that...a challenge. One she had over powered! She squeezed the tears from her eyes. But why had she over powered it? Why had she bothered? What did it get her besides death...a long and agonizing death? She had come home from her four years in, as a new woman...proud and standing tall and straight...determined to show everyone that she, April Sexton, had survived! Had conquered the world! She had proven her parents wrong. Yes, she was a Marine! But what else had she proven? Had she proven anything else? Oh, she knew it too well...she had proven to be an idiot...trusting our government ... fighting a war that she didn’t really believe in ... what war? The war between the government and humanity, that’s what war! But for what exactly? What was the exact- most accurate- reason? She couldn't answer that right now...she never had been able to, and maybe never would. Now, though, she was a dying Marine. She had children who needed her, and a husband who loved her, and she was slowly but surely dying, and for what? She had been fine for many years after the service. She had felt fabulous, vivacious, and full of life! She and her husband had planned each of their three children. Jeremy was the oldest; strong and brave, even as a little guy. Tasha was the middle child; she was beautiful and sweet, but she could be spiteful. Samuel was their youngest and their smallest, but so beautiful and so loving and kind. She would miss her kids so much! They were now old enough to play by themselves out side and maybe even stay with friends, which they did often. She thought they still needed her and maybe they did. Why would God take her from them, when they still needed her so? All kids need their mother. April ed when it was that she found out what was wrong with her...the reason why she suddenly could not hardly use her left hand. At first, she thought it was arthritis ...it ran in her family...it had to be that! But it went from her left hand to her right hand and then to her legs...she would start feeling off balance,

and fall. She would find herself unable to pull up from the ground, by herself, because she couldn't hardly use her hands and her legs because they were so weak. Finally, Rick made her go to a specialist. Not a VA specialist, but a civilian specialist. After multiple tests ... she was diagnosed with A.L.S. Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis. Or better known as Lou Gehrig's disease. The doctor had written a statement itting it was due to her time served in the Marines. She had taken this statement to her regional office, and they began a claim against the government. Many months ed and she was denied service connection two times. It was such a job fighting them, trying to get what she deserved. Why? she wondered. Did the government always make their heroes suffer before they did what was right? and sometimes even then, when it was proven to be their fault, the person died before they; the government, acknowledged it. Finally, she got a lawyer and the VA changed them guidelines accepting blame for many diseases including ALS. She finally won her claim. She re when they received her settlement check. Rick had frantically searched for a doctor who could heal her. He didn't find one. All the doctors said the same thing. No cure. But they had given Rick and April sure ways to slow the disease down...quite a bit... and so they followed the advice and really, she guessed it had worked. She had been witnessing to many cases where the individual died within six months of being diagnosed. She on the other hand was going on her third year and could still use her limbs considerably. She guessed she was fortunate in most ways. She could still do simple things most of the time, and she and Rick still made love. Oh, how she would miss that! But she wanted ... no she needed, for him to be able to go on without her...finish raising their kids...find them a new mother. Tears ran down her face, as she decided this is what she needed to stress to him. She was fighting her own emotions. April finished making the bed and walked downstairs to where Rick sat at the kitchen table figuring the bills. "How do you feel this morning?" she asked him. Rick looked up and smiled. "Better than I deserve, my love". "Oh, never better than you deserve sweetie...never!" They laughed aloud for a moment, then Rick cleared his throat. "How do you

feel, April?"

Chapter Fifteen April sat opposite of him and sighed. "I really feel about normal, Rick." She kept silent after that and watched him as he read his morning paper. Then she cleared her throat and spoke again. “Rick?” Rick looked up at her and raised his eye brows as if to ask silently, what it was she needed. She cleared her throat again, before speaking. “I wanted to talk to you about something while the kids are outside, and out of hearing distance. Rick then lay his paper down and gave her his full attention. He knew it must be important for her to interrupt his reading, because she never did that. “Yes, baby girl, go ahead, I’m listening.” April reached across the table to take his hand in hers. Then she spoke softly. “Rick, you know how much I love you, and our kids, right?” Rick squeezed her hand and shook his head yes. “Okay, that’s good.” she stopped for a moment and then after a deep breath, she began again. “This is really very hard, Rick. It’s hard to say, hard to put into words, but it’s what I feel, and I need you to know it.” Rick stood up and walked over to her and knelt down on one knee, bringing himself eye to eye with her. “Go ahead baby I’m listening.” “You know that my illness is terminal, and I believe we need to discuss what will happen with you and the kids, when I’m gone.” She had hit that nerve in him, and it took all he had not to burst out crying. But

he managed. “Honey ... we shouldn’t talk about this right now, really...we don’t know that they won’t find a cure...a miracle... it could happen, April, at any time ... it really could.” April shook her head in disagreement. “No, Rick... they will not find a cure, and there will not be a miracle...I’m sorry, but that is the truth. And, I need to...we need to talk about it...right now!” Rick still shook his head but, seeing the determined look in her eyes made him re-think letting her talk. “Okay then, sweetheart, let’s talk...if it means that much to you, then by all means, let’s talk.” April looked him in the eyes and leaned down to kiss him. "I love you Rick...more than you'll ever know." Rick smiled and shook his head as if he already knew that. "I have been doing so much thinking and I'm ready to tell you what I've decided, and I want you to listen closely Rick, because if I think I must worry about you and the kids when I'm gone...I won't be able to rest. Do you understand? This is my last will...my last request." Rick had an ever knowing look on his face, but said nothing. "When I die, Rick...and we both know it's coming soon...I want you to get your grieving over with quickly and tend to these kids...they will need you more than than they ever have. And I want you to concentrate on finding someone else, for yourself...to love, that will love you back...a good woman who will be good to our children and will love them as if they were her own...who can win their trust and their love. I want you to love her, Rick - like you love me. I want you to be good to her." Rick could not control the emotions she had induced inside his soul with her speech. Tears fell as he kissed her hand several times and then looking up at her, he did what he had to do... what his conscience told him to do...he did the only thing she had asked of him... he agreed.

Chapter Sixteen David Marshall patiently put on his patch...a new and fresh one, just like he did every morning. Sometimes depending on the circumstance's, he might change it twice in one day. He had a variety of colors; all to match a mood he might be in that day. Today, it would be the color black...today, he felt like crap. Being minus one eye was a bitch...he hated it but had grown quite used to it over the years. He had to it that it did add character to his person at times... sometimes, depending on what was taking place, it made him look mysterious...sometimes, depending on who he was trying to impress, he would wear his brightest of colors...the deep purple, or deep cherry red ones. Those were his I don't give a shit color. Today was one of those days...but, he was going to see his mother, so he would wear the color that showed no emotion, he would wear the black one. His mother didn't quite like the other colors. She would say to him that eye patches were meant to be black. Black was to portray a blank space, which is what his patch covered...a blank space. She was old fashioned, he knew, and she would always be old fashioned, but out of love and respect he would not try to deter her way of thinking. David walked to his mother’s house. It was really a good long distance from where he lived. She had always lived in the country. She hated the hustle bustle of the city and thought it was full of sin and distaste. She wasn't an old prune, by any means. She was quite pretty for her age and quite good at heart, but she was set in her ways and he knew that. David was having a semi good day so far. No throwing up and no heaving with nausea. That was a usual routine at least six times a week. But today... today wasn't too bad, he guessed. His Hepatitis C really made him miserable most of the time but, not today ...so far so good. He spent most days vomiting and heaving...sometimes all day long, every day, until the virus decided to hide again. When it was active - his life would stop thriving. He would be house bound until it ed. But he had been lucky lately and it was seeming to hide again. When it was inactive - he would go out and enjoy life while he could...like today for instance.

The service did him absolutely no favors. This he knew for a fact. He would never forgive them for what they had done to him. Who was he though, but a peon in life?

Chapter Seventeen Tommy didn't feel well today. As he lay in his bed, he rolled himself on to his other side and closed his eyes. He didn't feel well at all, and thought he might just spend the day in bed. As he lay there, he let himself way back when. Way back- when he was in the service. It was not lovely memories at all but, it was not all bad memories either. How in the world could he ever forget these memories? He couldn't and therefore he would try to make them better by reasoning away all the negative aspects of them. He thought about the day he signed up. God, how stupid he had been! How immature and how reckless, he had been. He had done it, though, and so he had served his time without complaint. It had been hard too. Boot camp was a bitch! The commanding officers were ruthless. Tommy was sure each one on them had just come from Vietnam. As a matter of fact, he knew they had. They had all just been a part of slaughtering humans. Watching each other be slaughtered and they had seen some wicked shit and then had come back to take it out on boys like Tommy. It was hard. Yes, it was...but, he was proud, especially when the day came that he graduated. It was an awesome day. Not many managed to do what he had done. Not many succeeded like he had. Not many survived like he had. He was finally a Marine! A marine with a purpose. But, laying here thinking, he wondered to himself about it. What purpose did he have? What purpose did it give him...really? What had being a marine, really done for him? It caused a few things to happen to him sure...but, what had it accomplished for him? He lost his ability to walk like a man...no more jogging or strolling with his girl. He vomits three out of seven days a week because of his Hepatitis C, that they did give to him, which made him think

every day about the air gun inoculations he had received during his time in service. He had to go through Chemotherapy for cancer from the drinking water at Camp Lejeune. Which reminded him every day of how much water he had really drank there. How much he had ingested because of the hard training and the heat. How many times he had? showered in that same water. And it was all for what exactly? The, for what's, were aggravating the hell out of him! Tommy knew there was a real reason behind this heart ache ... this turmoil, but now he couldn't think of it and it might take quite a while for him to it, or maybe even know it for the first time.

Chapter Eighteen April threw whatever she thought they might need in the next week, into her cart. She didn't like to shop anymore, it was too nerve racking and too big a job for her it seemed, but she tried to keep with it as long as she could. She moved her cart toward the . It was slow moving because it was crowded, but she kept her patience as best she could while she waited. In line for what seemed to be an hour; she began to feel light headed and almost as though, she couldn't hold her head up any longer. It felt heavy and like rubber all at the same time. What in the world was going on? April held tight to the cart and tried to focus on the people around her. Her vision was blurry and made it difficult to do so. She dug through her purse for her cell phone. She dialed her home number by using speed dial. Rick answered. "Yes?" April took a deep breath before speaking. "Rick, can you come get me?" "What's wrong April? What's happened?" Rick was panicking and she could hear it in his voice. "Honey, I'm having some sort of spell and I'm in line at the supermarket. I don't think I can manage to do anything, when it's my turn." "I'll be right there, babe... hold on!" Rick hung up the phone and darted out the door and going straight to the market merely two blocks away from home. April closed her phone and placed it back in to her purse and looked around. No one was staring at her and so, she said, "excuse me", to ten people as she got out of line and wheeled her cart to the bench and sat down to wait on Rick. Rick did speed while driving to the supermarket! He knew April was having trouble. He felt it! Parking alongside the front of the store - he jumped out and ran inside. He saw her sitting on the bench by the wall with the cart full and

sitting in front of her. He noticed she was holding her head in her hands and thinking she was just over whelmed with stress, he pulled at her arm to hold her hand as he sat down beside her. "No, don't!" She whispered it loudly enough for him to hear. "What?" He was confused. "Don't move my arm, Rick. I'm having a hard time holding up my head and I'm bracing it." The color left Ricks face. He knew what was happening. He had been told about it and read all about it over the years. He knew...and yet he was shocked. "Okay baby...let me help you to the car." Rick helped her up...she still held her head with her own hands, and they walked to the car. He opened her door and she slipped inside. April leaned back on to the seat and let out a deep breath. She felt exhausted, and yet she really hadn't done anything strenuous.

Chapter Nineteen David scooted farther to the edge of the bed. Scooting away from Heather, who lay on the opposite side. He was disappointed in himself. How could he fall back in to this? He could do her no good. He would end up destroying anything they built of this relationship. Why? Because he was a screw up! He was a depressed mess and he could not stop it! He had missed her yes...life always seemed better with her in it...but she had to be miserable with him and he hated that he was doing it to her all over again. He watched her for a moment lying there and sleeping away with sweet dreams crowding her sleep. Maybe, he could fix himself and make her happy for once? He squeezed the tear from his eye. He knew better. He could not be fixed. He was a mess and he would remain a mess until the day he died...he knew this without a doubt. He was completely blind in one eye and depressed all the time...suicidal, to be exact. He had P.T.SD and hepatitis C. He was undoubtedly a mess! He could not be fixed...he would never be fixed. David rolled over and off the bed silently. He walked in his boxer shorts, to the living room and sat on the couch. The service hadn’t done him any favors. Sure...he felt proud for a little while after... proud...how much sense did that make? Proud- to kill people? He shook his head in disgust at himself and lit a cigarette...blowing out his first lung full of anger. He knew this was not how he really felt about his time served...or was it? He didn't know how he really felt, to be completely honest with himself. Sure, it had made him feel like a man. It had made him aware of his capabilities. But in the long run...it had killed him too. He knew this to be true. David thought back to when he had lost his eye. He and his platoon had been scouting for Taliban hiding in the mountains. These Taliban were dangerous. They meant harm to him and his men and he and his men were going to find them and arrest them. David was in front...like always. He and his men moved forward...slowly. They'd had word that the Taliban were hiding left of the ridge and in a cave hole

against the mountain. "Go slow...keep your eyes open and your mind aware men!" David had thought he was doing just as he had told himself, and his own men to do. Creeping slowly...making no sound...they managed to make it to the cave opening. Suddenly shots were fired from inside and rocks flew wildly as David and his men tried to take cover. Ironically a rock managed to fly in to David's eye as he ran past the opening for cover. It felt like a bullet and David was sure it had been until he was told later it wasn't. He had dropped instantly to the ground and ed out. He woke up in the hospital with a patch over his eye and IVs in his arms. "You are a very lucky man Lt. Marshall." The nurse smiled at him as she checked his vitals. "Lucky?" David was still groggy and confused. "Oh yes...it could have been much worse, sir!" David turned his head from side to side looking at his surroundings. "Am I in a hospital?" "Yes Lt. Marshall, you are...can you what happened?" David closed his eyes. Noticing though, that one eye didn't close. He reached his hand up to his face and felt the eye that didn't seem quite right. It was covered with a cloth of some type. "What's this?" David looked at her in question, with his one- still good eye. The nurse pulled his hand down away from his face and patted it as she lay it back by his side. "Let me get the doctor Lt. Marshall. I’m sure that he can explain it to you better than I can." With that she left the room and David was left by himself with the sounds of the machines around him humming like they had a life of their own. David waited. It wasn’t a long wait though before the doctor knocked on his room door.

“Yes?’ David’s mouth felt dry, but he mustered up enough saliva to say that much. The door opened and in came a very tall older man in white. David could only assume this was the doctor. "Hello, Lt. Marshall. How are you feeling sir?" The doctor shook David's hand and then stood staring down at him waiting for an answer. David cleared his throat and then spoke. Only he didn't answer the doctor’s question, he instead asked the doctor a question in return. "What happened to me doc?" The doctor opened his folder that he had carried in and leafed through it for a moment before answering. "Mr. Marshall, you were struck in the eye by a random flying rock during a patrol run with your men and the rock that struck you took your eye out." David lay still. He was confused. "Am I the only one who was hurt, doc?" The doctor shook his head no. "You lost three of the six men that you took with you, sir." David closed his eye tight as he tried not to cry. "Lt. Marshall, things like this happen sir...no matter how hard you try to keep yourself and your company safe from harm, it happens." "It shouldn't happen!” He was hurt and confused and mad. The doctor cleared his throat. "Yes sir, I agree." "So, what's the whole damage doc?" David stared at him through one eye. "Sir while you have been in here, we have had to treat your eye and we have found through blood work that you have hepatitis c." David stared at him. A dead stare until he was able to absorb all the doctor had

told him. "So, that's it huh?" David crinkled his brows and ran his hand through his hair. Confused and hurt and thinking about the boys he had overseen... half of them being dead now...because of him. "Yes, that's about it, sir." The doctor seemed not only sad, but scared. He expected more of an emotional breakdown from his patient. David soaked it all in thinking about his men and himself and the reasoning behind what he was doing in the service at all. The Taliban's were ruthless beings that didn't deserve to have their freedom! He began his plans for revenge against them. He would try to avenge the death of his men! His thoughts were interrupted by the doctor. "Sir? You are going to be fine I promise. When you get home, you'll get your life back and move on." David jerked his head facing the doctor, dead staring him. "What do you mean, back home?" The doctor looked at him as though he thought David hadn't quite grasped the fact he was finished here in Iraq. "Sir, you cannot continue here in your condition ... you know that, don't you?" David lost the color in his face for a moment. "You mean the service is abandoning me...kicking me out because I got hurt defending them?" The doctor shook his head. "No...no sir, they aren't abandoning you, they are setting you free." "Fuck freedom. I am a soldier...a killer...a defender!” David was unstable and becoming more so by the minute. The doctor left the room while David raged and came back accompanied by another doctor. David dead stared them both. He was full of anger and hatred and felt overwhelmed with grief. “What!?” David snapped at both doctors. The new doctor came to stand close to David’s bed, while the original doctor

that had first came in, remained by the door. Easy escape. “Lt. Marshall, my name is Doctor William Deny. I know how drastic all of this is, to be dumped on you all at once. I realize how overwhelmed you must be at this moment. I truly apologize for that. But what I would like to suggest is that you see our specialist sometime today...when you calm down of course...and try to come to with all of this...everything you have been told and everything that has happened with you.” David walked to the kitchen and sat down at the table and waited for his coffee to perk. It was quiet and peaceful right now and that's just the way he liked it. If the past carried on like clockwork, Heather would sleep till noon and that would give him time to think. He didn't believe he could do this again right now but, he also knew he was running out of time with her. He had put her off for so long and he knew without a doubt that she was tired of waiting on him. Getting his cup of coffee, he walked outside to the backyard. He took a deep breath of fresh air. Why didn't he feel relief? He had no idea, but maybe it was his illness or maybe it was the fact that he had only one eye? Who knew what the reason was behind it? He sure didn't.

Chapter Twenty Rick took April straight to the hospital and into the emergency room. The doctors took her right in. They hooked her up to IVs and began an EKG. April held on to Ricks hand. "Please don't leave me!" "I won't April. I promise!" Rick squeezed her hand gently. April lay still while doctors probed and pulled here and there, on her. The nurses left the room and the doctor stood directly in front of Aprils bed, his hands folded in front of him and he cleared his throat before speaking. "I have some bad news April." April dead stared him and squeezed Ricks hand. "Yes?" The doctor shook his head. Not yes or no but, shook it because he felt he was at a loss for the words. "From what we can tell April, the disease has progressed and is affecting your nervous system entirely. You will soon not be able to hold your head up without the effort of someone else." April and Rick looked at each other knowingly. They had researched this disease to the tilt and knew what to expect. "Yes, and?" April directed this question at the doctor but still looked at Rick for . "Well April, I'm sure you know what the and is." The doctor did not want to say the words he knew needed said. He had grown to almost love her with her sweet personality and her always brave knowledge of death. "Okay but, explain it to me anyway doctor, please." April had to hear the words even though she knew how broken she would feel and how broken the doctor looked. The doctor looked at Rick but, Rick kept looking at

April. He wanted no part in hiding the truth from her. "I see...alright then, April. As you wish my friend. Because the disease is progressing so fast now, you will need constant care from someone else. You will eventually not be able to move or use your arms, legs or hands, including your head. When the disease has progressed far enough, you will have respiratory failure and ultimately, you will then die. Beforehand though, your eating will decrease to nothing and you will not be able to swallow at all. Of course, this is all before the respiratory failure, and is ultimately the end stages. Now tell me April, how much of this have you already been experiencing?" The doctor stopped and watched her reaction. He watched Rick’s. Neither one seemed shaken by what he had just said and for that he didn’t know whether to be grateful or worried.

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Chapter Twenty- One Tommy decided to go do some grocery shopping, after all, he did need to eat. His groceries consisted of fast foods. Anything that he could microwave. He did sometimes cook on the stove...spaghetti or chili, but not often. He mostly drank, and not alcohol either, but instead tea...soda...juice. Tommy had never been a drinker. His parents were at one time alcoholics and he just never had the urge to act or feel like that. Tommy enjoyed grocery shopping really. It took his mind off other things entirely. He managed to get all he needed and then he headed for the . He'd pay for his stuff then go home and enjoy the rest of his evening. As Tommy wheeled his way to the line a woman ran into his chair with her cart. “OH my God! I am so sorry!" She was flushed in the face from embarrassment and stuttering like a school kid. Tommy laughed at her expression. She apparently felt guilty because he was in a wheel chair. "No...no it was entirely my own fault

my lady...not yours." "No, it was completely my fault, sir! I should have been watching where I was going." She continued to look at him as if she were the worst person in the world. Tommy chuckled aloud. "Really, it's okay...as you can see, I've been hit by far worse than a mere shopping cart." With that said, she too began to laugh. Tommy found out through conversation after the crash that she was single...well...divorced, and that her name was Libby. He thought to himself, Libby is a pretty name. He of course told her his name and that he too, was divorced. He spent the time they waited in line, explaining that his wife had ended their marriage while he was away in the service. "Oh, I am so sorry, Tommy...that's just terrible!" "No need to be sorry Hun, it’s just a part of life sometimes." Tommy smiled trying to make her feel better. Libby smiled with him. She reached out her hand for him to shake. "Nice to meet you, Tommy!" Tommy took her hand in his and gently squeezed it. "Nice to meet you too, Libby!" They stayed in the line, with her in front of him, because he was raised to be a gentleman, and after they paid their dues, they went outside together. Her, with her cart, and him, with his bags in his lap. After she had put her groceries in her car, she looked at him still holding his in his lap. "No car?" She asked looking confused. Tommy laughed again. She was a breath of fresh air to him, with her looking so concerned.

"No, no car Libby...no leg...no drive...I shop for only what I can carry in my lap." Libby looked shocked. She hadn't even thought about that. "Oh, well...you know Tommy, that we could stick your chair in the back, and I could give you a lift home?" Tommy let the idea play around in his head a moment. "You sure?" "Sure, I'm sure! Come on and let’s get you in the front seat, and I'll stick this thing in the back, myself!"

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Chapter Twenty - Two Trent Jones had just come home from two years in Iraq. He talked to no one about his time in the service or about how he felt about his time in the service. Even though the service insisted he did talk; he politely refused. As a matter of fact, he talked to no one about anything, at all. Trent was diagnosed and with extreme case of PTSD. In the service he had tried to commit suicide. This is exactly why he was released. Trent was twenty-two years old. Not very old for someone in his condition. But Trent had seen too much for a boy his age...too much death. He had felt too much fear even though, he pretended not to feel any, himself. He was and probably always would be a basket case. What did it matter anyway? Damaged goods, that’s what he considered himself.

Part Two Cory Conner, age twenty-four, came home from Iraq a mess mentally. He also suffered from severe depression. He felt like he had been cheated. And so, he had been. His parents worried terribly about him but there was nothing they could do at this point. Their young son would suffer the damage of Iraq for life, and they both knew it...they knew it too well. Cory’s father had also been in the service and knew without a doubt that his son was wounded, not only in body, but soul and mind, as well. "Please Cory, please see a doctor about your depression." Cory’s mother pleaded with him to no avail. Cory would not go. He would not live his life on drugs, and he knew that is exactly what they would do to him...drug him to death! No, he wouldn't let them do that to him, not at all! He would deal with this on his own and be better for it.

Part Three Linda Speakman stood at the altar of the church, waiting on her turn for salvation. The preacher paced back and forth laying his hands on everyone on either side of her, but not once touching her. She looked at him in question and then he finally knelt in front of her and whispered so that no one else could hear. "You are a baby killer. Why would God forgive you?" Linda's eyes widened in disbelief and she stood up slowly looking all around her for someone who might have over heard. No one paid any kind of attention to her. No one gave her a seconds thought. She turned away from the alter and the preacher, and all who bowed down in front of the platform and walked down the long isle to the door. Once outside, she cried. She had never killed a baby! She had never killed anyone! She was afraid, and she was lost, and she needed God! Who was this preacher...who was he, to judge her? She was in ill health and she needed God! Linda knelt in front of the church on the side walk and in front of the statue that stood tall of what was supposed to portray -Jesus Christ. She knelt and folded her hands. She closed her eyes and prayed by herself to her God. Linda had been stationed with the rest of her platoon at Camp Lejeune for basic training. Later, years later, she went to the doctor because she had felt a lump in her breast. She wasn't sure if it was a lump or just a swollen gland but, she needed to have it checked, regardless. Linda had gone to see her doctor and they had run tests and biopsies on her lump or rather, lumps, three of which she didn't even know she had. They came back positive for cancer. They titled it, Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma. She found after many more tests that the Lymphoma was also in her kidneys and spleen and liver. They removed the ones from her breast, and she had healed but, she was told that the lumps may return in her breast or other areas. She’d had no Chemotherapy. Linda needed God! She needed him to forgive her for whatever wrong doings she may have

committed in her life or while in the service. She needed Him to help her with her life...her cancer and her soul. Linda prayed, and after saying her Amen, she stood up and walked on.

Chapter Twenty - Three Brandy was a loyal and devoted Marine, through and through. She loaded the boot of her car with everything she owned. She was getting the hell out of here! The service was one thing but, this shit was a whole other...she couldn't take it anymore! A boyfriend, and the boy friends’ kids...it just wasn't her. She had to get out of here...she just had to! She had known for a long time that something was wrong with her. She got angry way too easy...way too angry. She stayed depressed and sometimes felt as though, she could just blow her own brains out. She had tried antidepressants and many other drugs to rectify her feelings. Nothing worked. She was alone in this big world and nothing could help her. Brandy was thirty-two years old and once a marine always a marine! What good had it done her really? She was approaching her prime in life and she was so very screwed up in her head. When she was younger ...before the service, she was fine and happy. She had friends, and she laughed, and she slept...now, she had nothing. After the service, she had nothing. Oh wait, she did have enemies...she did have sadness...she did have grief. She had all of that...and yet, she had nothing.

Part Four April held Ricks hand softly, tears threatening to flow down her face. He was crying. He didn't want to but, he couldn't help it. Everything he had ever known, ever loved and ever wanted was...her...and she was dying. She was leaving him, and he could do nothing about it...he couldn't help her...if he could give her any part of his body and any part of his soul, he would in an instant but, he couldn't, and he felt so lost and so abandoned by God. "Honey please don't cry...please try to be strong. Please be strong for me, and for the kids, Rick. You have to!" April fought to keep her tears intact and from falling out of her eyes but, to keep them in her heart, and hidden instead. Rick took April home. He would not leave her at the hospital alone, and he would not let her spend her last days in a cold and unfeeling place, like a hospital. He took her home to be with her family. Her parents and her children could come see her and hug her...love her and say their goodbye's. He took her home, for himself. So, he could and would have more time to tell her...to show her...how very much he loved her. The kids ran to the car as they pulled up in the drive. April smiled at them. They were still so sweet. How had she managed, in this cruel and cold world, to keep her children sweet? "Mom!" Her oldest son Jeremy, who was twelve years old, opened her door for her and reached his hand out to her. "Here mom, take my hand and I'll help you inside." Rick had to think quick. "That's okay little buddy...I'll help her this time. She's pretty weak, son." Jeremy stepped back away from the car so his dad

could get past him to his mom. He looked at his brothers and sisters. “Okay you guys let's go on inside and get the bed ready for mom!" With that said, all the kids ran as fast as their little legs could take them, into the house and up the stairs to their parents’ bedroom. April watched them as they ran back to the house and she smiled. "They're good kids, Rick." Rick smiled back at her. "You did it, woman...they probably wouldn't have amounted to anything without your guidance and love, April." "Thanks Rick, that means a lot." Rick held tight to April as they both slowly made their way to the front door.

Chapter Twenty - Four Robert sat on the edge of his bed after reading his claims decision. He sat there motionless and emotionless, with a blank stare. His wife scooted up behind him on the bed and rubbed his back. "I'm so sorry Robert...I am so very sorry!" Robert began to cry. Sandy could see his body shaking from the release of emotion. She scooted closer and wrapped her arms around him, laying her face against his back. She held him for a long time without saying anything else. Finally, after a few seconds of weeping, Robert turned to her. "It's not your fault Sandy, you did everything you could do to help me." Then he stood and yanked his Marine hats from the hooks on the wall and after yanking them down he crumbled them in his hands. Anger spilling out with each squeeze. "I hate my worthless military service! I hate our frigging government! I hate the lying bastards. I am no longer a Marine! I will no longer carry that title. I am no longer a good person! I am on the other side now!" Not long after those words, he began cussing God. Sandy knew he didn’t mean what he said about God. Robert was a religious man and a firm believer in God. He was just angry and with good reason. Sandy left the room. She was hurting for her husband. She had never seen him like this, and it hurt her deeply. She sat in front of her computer and cried to herself. She was afraid for him, it was like he was thrown over the edge. He had gone into the service at age seventeen. He had gone into the hardest branch a kid could go in. The Marines. Robert had a rough time of it. They singled him out and they mistreated him terribly. The drill Sergeants would beat him for any reason, it didn't matter what the reason was...they would beat him, and did beat him on several occasions, until he ed out, then when he came to, they’d beat him again. They had literally caused him to be put in the hospital several times because of the abuse. She ed him telling her how they had swim training. A bunch of the boys including him, were thrown into a pool of very deep water and made to stay afloat. They were not allowed to touch the sides or hold onto the edge. Robert ed that so many of the boys did

not know how to swim. He confided to her that many of the boys drowned. He watched as they drown, he was looking at the drill instructors, waiting for one or more to jump in and save them. They had taken their time, while laughing...they laughed as the boys went under and inhaled water into their lungs...their eyes wide with fear and they were screaming... begging. The instructors waited until the boys went completely under, and then they would jump in and drag them out and bring them back by getting the water out of their lungs. The minute the kids came back and thought it was over, they would throw them back in, to drown again. Robert watched this. He didn't know how to swim either, but he did know how to float. He recalled that he watched as some of the kids would grab the edge to stay afloat because they were scared and panicking, and the drill instructors would hit them hard with their poles. They would hit them until they let go of the edge. Robert had tears in his eyes while telling me these stories. Sandy sat by her computer and thought about all the stories he had told her. She knew why he hated them. Then she thought about how now he was suffering from cancer, and hepatitis c, and dementia, and post traumatic stress disorder, and she knew why he felt that way. She got up and walked back into the bedroom. Robert was lying on the bed facing the door. "Are you okay baby?" She softly asked him. Robert looked at her. She could see the pain in his soul. "No. I just want to sleep. I'm going to go to sleep, I made sure of it." "What do you mean you made sure of it, Robert?" "I took seven nerve pills...I took all that I had." "Why would you do that, Robert?" Sandy was scared. "Because I want to die." He talked way too calmly and way too unfeeling. "Robert, why would you say that? Don't you love me and the kids, at all?" Robert looked at Sandy with tears in his eyes. "Yes, I do...it's not about you guys...none of this is

your fault. I just don't want to live anymore...you guys will be better off without me...you'll have more peace...you'll have more food...it'll be just you and the kids, and I won't be here to cause trouble." Sandy looked at him with tears streaming down her face. "Robert, we need you. Not food... not peace... not money...We need you!" Robert hugged her and patted her back trying to comfort her. "It's not your fault, Sandy. You didn't do anything wrong."

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Chapter Twenty - Five April had lost all the color in her face. She was weak and could not move her arms or hands. She could not sit up or hold her head upright and she could not swallow, which meant she could not eat. It was over...it was the end, and she knew it. She could not talk...she could not tell Rick how much she loved him, and she could not tell her kids good bye, or how much having them, and raising them, had meant to her or how much she loved them, and how she would move heaven and earth for them. No... she couldn't say all these things to the people that meant the most to her. Instead she lay quiet. Rick would sit by her side and hold her hand, but she couldn't feel it. The kids would come in and out being quiet and kiss her hands and her cheek...but she couldn't feel that either. She knew it...when she was awake, but she couldn't feel it. April lay there so very still. Part two

Cory walked through the city as if it owed him something. He was angry and depressed and very tired of living. His mother had begged him to get help. She knew he was not the same boy who had hugged her tightly while saying goodbye...before going off to war. He was not the same boy who had knelt at the alter and prayed for God to watch over him while holding her shaking hand as he did so. No... Cory was not the same boy at all, and she knew he needed help. He was very, very sad. Up ahead of him was a gang of boys standing in the middle of the side walk. Cory thought to himself as he walked toward them...Boys you are just aching for a fight...aren't you? He kept walking and dead staring them as he walked. He was instigating a fight. He knew this...he knew it, and yet he couldn't stop himself. Cory kept a steady pace until he reached where the boys stood, and then he stopped dead in his tracks. “What in the hell are you boys doing just standing around not amounting to Jack Shit?” That was all it took. The boys plowed into him all at once, but it didn’t matter much on who would win because Cory wasn’t fighting at all. He just stood his ground and let them beat him. Bleeding...his nose broken, he was defeated, and he continued to lay there on the ground while each of the boys scattered away ...hiding from the sirens they heard approaching them. Cory opened one eye as far as he could and watched the last one retreat into the bushes behind an empty house.

Chapter Twenty - Six Rick sat by their bed and held on to April’s hand. He kissed it now and then, though she couldn’t feel it. She was deep in a coma now, and her body was shutting down. “Baby, I am so sorry...so very sorry. You know how much I love you, April? How much we all love you? God please don’t let her suffer anymore, please Lord!” Rick sat by her with tears streaming down his face and praying. As his last words came out of his mouth in a whisper, he heard her take her last breath. It was a sort of raspy smothering sound, and he jerked his head up and tightened his grip on her hand.

Part two Robert decided that he would not let the government win. Not this time! They were the reason he was dying. They killed him! They took his life away from him without a second thought, and he would make sure that somehow, someway, they paid...he preferred they pay with what they hated to part with the most... money. Sandy had read the denial and ran straight to the truck stop to fax an appeal. Then, she came back home, and they talked again about the denial and what it would take to appeal it. “Sandy I won’t stop until they’ve itted to it and paid me...paid us, for what they’ve done.” Sandy went to work on her computer. She wrote the president of the United States...the Senator...and the Congressman. She wrote everyone explaining the situation and waited on a response. Robert went back to doing his yard work and thinking all the time how screwed up the government was. He hung his flag back up; He had ripped it down after receiving the denial. Sandy had taken all his Marine hats out of the trash and tried to straighten them back out. She had stashed them under the cabinet where they stayed until he was back in his right state of mind. Robert thought many times about how long he might live. He didn’t think it would be too long and he was afraid his family would be left with nothing, if he couldn’t get the government to acknowledge guilt and pay what they owed him. It would be a struggle and he knew this. He hoped and prayed he had time to wait. Sandy continued to do whatever she could to help the situation. She was a very out spoken woman. She spoke her mind to anyone, including the President.

This was probably a bad idea in most cases but, she couldn’t help herself. She was bipolar and this added to her ability to say what was on her mind.

Part Three Linda sat in the local bar drinking water and watching all the lonely people getting drunk. She really didn’t consider them bad people at all. She honestly thought of them as lost souls. She herself was a lost soul, and she knew this. How heart wrenching it was to think of herself in that way. She was and would always remain, a marine. But, too soon - without proper medical treatment -she would be just a memory to those who had ever loved her. She thought back to when she found out she had non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. It was a very sad day for her. Not so much because she had cancer and not so much because she couldn’t afford proper treatment, but because she would have to say goodbye to her child. Her one child. Her only child. The child she had never known. Why, if she had never known this child would she have to say good bye? Because, she had sent a card every birthday. She had watched him play volley ball from the outside gate, with every game. Because, she had sat at the hospital crouched in a corner while he lay in an oxygen tent with pneumonia at age nine. Because, she had sat in her car and watched as his father took him on his first date at age fourteen with a pretty little Mexican girl. She had followed them to the diner and had sat outside and watched as her son had courted this pretty little girl. She had sat in her car and cried. Not from sadness, but with pride. Her son was such a gentleman. Why had she given him up, you ask? Because, she was not mother material. She could not love him at the time ... more than she loved partying, or more than she loved herself. She was not ready. She had no income and she had no time. She was planning to sign up for the service and she could not take him with her. It was not that she didn’t love him at all...no. If that had been the case, she would have aborted him. She loved him alright...she loved him enough, to let him go. Linda stood and stretched. She had been sitting for quite some time. Her back was not what it used to be, these days. She looked around once more at all the people who suffered from loneliness, and

then in the mirror above the bar, at herself. There’s another lonely person for you! Linda walked out of the bar and got into her car. She would go home and pray and fall asleep. Tomorrow would be a new day and maybe, just maybe, she would find some comfort somewhere.

Chapter Twenty - Seven Trent waited for the guard to go on break. He was hidden behind a building across the street from the First Diamond Bank, and he had been hidden for about an hour. Now, it was time for what he had carefully planned to do. He would rob this bank and head for Mexico. He would then do what he had always wanted to do...live alone. Trent hurried across the street. He had seen the guard walk into the break room, carrying his lunch. Trent felt for his gun as he ran for the door. It was tucked into his upper pants by his belt loop.

Part Two David visited with his mother, for most of the afternoon. She was old and not in the best of health and she worried too much about him. “Mom...I’m fine, really. You shouldn’t worry so much about every little thing.” “I can’t help it, David. I worry about you, because you are a good man, and you are always so depressed! I really wish you would get help for that son.” She had gone on and on about his mental status, and how he was better than that, and how he needed a woman in his life, until David could not take it anymore. “Mom, I’m going to go now, sweetie. I’ll be back in a couple of days, I promise.” He wouldn’t dare tell her about Heather.

Part Three Tommy invited Libby over for dinner, and that’s where it all began. His happiness was finally part of Gods plan. Libby was the sweetest woman he had ever met. She ate with him, and she fixed him meals and, she cleaned for him...she took him to his appointments too, which saved him from riding the VA van. She talked and listened intently to all he had to say, and everything she said, made sense! He had never known a woman to make sense. Yes, this is where his happiness began right here in this life with her. She and Tommy sat on the balcony with lit candles, and listened to soft romantic music, while eating their freshly cut veggies and baked potatoes and, ground steak. He was happy. So very happy!

Part Four Brandy made it in to her vehicle before her boyfriend and his kids, ran outside. They all stood by her car. The boyfriend and all his kids...crying. “Stop it, Jim...stop making things worse!” “But Brandy, honey we all love you; Don’t you see that?” Jim was not giving up, and he had what time was left before she pulled away, to beg her to stay. “Jim...I can’t do this anymore...I just can’t!” She looked at his three little kids...two boys and a girl, and she felt her heart break in two. She did love them damn it...but, she was not fit to be around little kids! My God, she was an awful person! she told herself. “Brandy, please give us one more chance, please! We love you Brandy.” Jim’s final plea. “Please mommy, Please?” The kids...all three, stood holding on to her window which was rolled three quarters of the way down. They were pleading with her, with tears streaming down their faces, and making her feel like shit! And, finally, they had called her mommy. Brandy stared at them. Each had their own personality...each were sweet in their own way...and, each had made her birthday cards for the past two years. She loved each of them so much and for so many reasons. She looked at Jim. He had always been so good to her...understanding her moods and giving her space to grieve. Always loving her no matter what kind of bitch, she was being at any given time. Tears came to Brandy’s eyes. She was beaten ... she had fought a good fight against her heart but had lost. She had tried to save them, but they refused. She motioned for them to move back so she could open the door. They scattered like roaches...excited and jumping up and down and screaming with delight. Brandy cried out loud, now. She was so ashamed of herself for what she had put them through and for what? Jim came to her first and hugged her. He held her while she cried. The kids all

ran to embrace her. Each with their little arms somewhere on her body, holding on tightly. “I am so sorry! So very, very sorry!” Brandy tried her best to touch each child affectionately while she apologized. Then she looked up at Jim. He was so handsome and so sweet in his heart. She looked at him and he kissed her ever so softly, letting her know she was forgiven. The kids patting her as if she were a child that needed consoling. Brandy began to laugh. Not because she found any of it funny, but because she was once happy again, and maybe happy in a different way this time. Brandy and the gang unpacked her trunk and took it all back inside. They all helped her put her things back in their perspective places and then they all five sat on her and Jim’s bed and, talked. They must have talked deep into the night because the kids fell asleep where they each had laid down and tried to keep their eyes open...they had tried to continue talking...but eventually, sleep over came them. Jim and Brandy were the only ones awake come midnight, and they continued their talk in the kitchen over iced tea drinks.

Chapter Twenty - Eight Cory woke up in the hospital. “How are you feeling sir?” The nurse spoke softly knowing full well this kid would have a headache from hell. Cory squinted his eyes, and then grimaced with pain. “I guess I’m okay. What happened?” It seems that you were attacked by a gang of boys.” She smiled sweetly at him while she attended his dressings on his face and around his head area. “I was, and you are right, but I think I may have started it to be honest.” Cory looked her straight in the eyes, not faltering his stare and unashamed of his confession, and unafraid of the consequences. She smiled again, and this time meeting his stare. “I assumed as much, to be honest. With you being in the service and all.” Cory smiled back at her. “I need the shit kicked out of me, now and then, just to make myself feel at home.” The nurse laughed aloud at this slick remark that he had come up with. “You little brat. Why would you ever do that?” “Oh, I don’t know really. Maybe, I’m just stupid or maybe I’m too smart for my own good.” “What does that mean?” She cocked her head to the side, looking at him in question. “Oh, well, if I don’t do stuff like that and am not able to get it out of my system in that way, with only me taking the pain, then I’m liable to hurt someone when I get into that mood, and I would actually hate for that to happen.” The nurse looked at him with pity, and shook her head in disbelief. “I cannot believe you would go as far as risking your life to feed your moods.”

Cory looked at her with wide eyes. “Why not? I went as far as risking my life, for you.” She stood perfectly still for what seemed like five minutes straight, and then she replied with a slow and intent tone. “You are right, of course. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.” Cory smiled. “Ah don’t be sorry, was nothing but a day, my lady.”

Part two Rick stood by his kids and his sister, in front of April’s casket. She didn’t look sad. She didn’t look like she did when she was in pain. She didn’t look like his April, either. But he knew it was her. The kids knew it was her. They cried aloud wanting their mommy back. Rick could not comfort them the way they needed. He was hurting too, very much. He put his arms around the kids and cuddled them close. He knew how bad they were hurting! He knew their world was turned upside down now. He also knew that it would take a lot of love and comforting and patience, to get them through this. He needed all of that as well. Him; a big strong man. He felt just as lost as they did.

Part Three Trent ran straight to the first window, where the teller stood behind a four-foot wall to divide the customer from the teller, and all the money. He held his gun toward the teller as she rummaged through large bills to put in the drawer to her side. As he put the gun out in front of her, behind the glass, she looked up at him with her eyes wide and full of fear. “Give me what you have in your drawer, and in that drawer.” He pointed with the gun at the drawer in front of her, and at the one to the side of her. “And if you open your mouth at all, or in any way, and give me away, I will shoot your dumbass!” Trent whispered so that only she could hear. The teller reached down and grabbed a cloth bag from under the counter. Trent watched her like a hawk, but evidently not good enough. She hurriedly put the money from her drawer into the bag and as she reached over to the drawer at her side, she heard a voice from behind the robber and she stopped what she was doing to see the police officer five foot behind Trent, holding his gun at arm’s length and warning Trent to drop his weapon. Trent looked at her, and then turned slowly toward the cop who stood directly behind him, with a gun. “Ah damn it! Go figure. Son of a bitch. I thought you were feeding your fat face, you mother fucker!” With that Trent shot the cop in the head. He had thrown him off by bad mouthing him and knew he would have him confused. It worked every time! How many times had he used the same technique on those damn Iraqi Taliban? The cop fell to the floor, and Trent looked back toward the teller. People were screaming and dropping like flies to the floor behind them. “Give me the fucking money bitch, or I will shoot you too, for pulling such a stupid stunt.” The teller hurriedly grabbed the rest of the money and pitched it to him over the

counter with complete fear evident in her eyes. Trent turned around with the bag in hand and decided he had best make a go for the door and freedom before more cops showed up to take his hard-earned freedom away. “Thanks, you all!” Trent waved and smiled at the people laying on the floor, in fear for their lives. He then left the bank with the money in hand and ran back across the street and headed for his car, which he had hid down an alley across the way. “Shit man, this was too easy.” Trent told himself.

Chapter Twenty-Nine Cory raised up so he could eat his meal, that a second nurse had brought to him. “Try to eat sir, because it will do your body good.” Cory laughed when he uncovered each item on his plate. “Sure...I’ll eat it...when hell freezes over. Have you even seen this stuff?” The nurse laughed and walked over to glance at the food. “Gees oh pees, that looks disgusting!” Cory then laughed himself. “Oh well, imagine how hungry the little kids are in Africa. I think I’ll eat it and be grateful.” “Good idea, if I might say so myself.” She then turned and walked out, humming low. Cory sat with the table scooted over the bed and in front of him at chest level and began to eat. It really didn’t taste too awful bad to him, after all. He guessed looks could be deceiving. As he was almost finished the doctor walked in with his folder in hand. “Well I see you’re enjoying our gourmet meal?” Cory shook his head as he chewed the delicious steak. “Yes, actually I am. Thank you.” The doctor grabbed the visitor chair, and scooted it closer to Cory’s bed. Sitting in it, he crossed his legs and lay the folder on his lap. “So, how does your head feel today?” Cory looked over at him and kind of tilted his head back and forth, in coordination with his shoulders, in an effort to portray, so-so. “I really don’t feel too bad doc.”

The doctor was silent and thinking. “Do you think that you are able to go home, today?” Cory looked at the doctor and smiled. “I think I am doc. I truly do.” The doctor leafed through his folder and then shook his head. “Alright, Cory. I will release you, but please try to stay clear of gangs from now on, will you? And, should you begin to feel dizzy or not right in any way, please be sure to come back here, because it’s possible we missed something.” Cory laughed aloud at the doctor’s words. “I’ll be sure to do that doc!” Part Two Rick and the kids stood by the casket, sitting in the greenest of grass. The VA always seemed to have the most beautiful cemeteries. Every duck in a row...as they say. Rick held the kid’s hands, two hands in each of his, and they stood with heads bowed and eyes closed, as the minister said the final prayer before lowering April down into the ground. The kids were still crying, but silently. Rick held in the tears, but his heart was breaking in two. What would he do without his April? How would he raise these kids all by himself? April had always been their stepping stone and she had always been their strength. What in this world would they do without her? The casket was lowered into the ground as they stood and watched. Jeremy turned his eyes away and Rick saw the scared uncertain look on his face. He reached down and pulled Jeremy to him in hopes of comforting him but knowing full well his arms could never equal to April and her loving arms. Chapter Thirty Robert and Sandy were lying in bed and getting ready to go to sleep. They talked a little like they always did beforehand. It was kind of a way to have a peaceful conversation. The kids were all asleep and it was quiet. Robert did what he had been doing a lot of lately. He began to open about boot camp. “You know, in boot camp we were all sitting around in the barracks and a drill instructor walks in. We all immediately stood in formation. The drill instructor carried with him a box of Q- tips. He had one of the boys stand beside him while he held the Q- tip up for all of us to see. “This is a Q -tip. You use a Q -tip to

clean your ear’s.” Robert said that when the instructor said those words, that he then rammed the Q- tip into the boy’s ear and reamed it, hard. When he pulled the Q- tip out of the boy’s ear, it poured blood. The boy had begun screaming when the drill instructor shoved the Q- tip into his ear. The drill instructor told one of the other boys to take the bleeding boy to sick bay. Robert said he didn’t see that boy again, after that. Sandy lay there in the dark silently crying after Robert had confided in her. In her mind she created the picture to go with the story, and she imagined it maybe being one of her sons. She was heartbroken that the government could get by with such cruelty. Robert was little by little, ing such things that happened in boot camp, and Sandy was little by little taking notes about it.

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Part Two Tommy and Libby spent most every day together. It didn’t seem to matter to Libby that Tommy was in a wheel chair. It didn’t seem to matter to her that he couldn’t slow dance or Jitter Bug. All that seemed to matter to Libby, or to Tommy, for that matter, was that they were together laughing and having fun. “Hey Tommy, would you like to go to the movies with me tomorrow night?” Libby asked him while she sat beside him on the couch holding hands. Tommy thought it over for a moment. He had never really enjoyed the movies and hadn’t gone to one since his accident, but looking at her big brown eyes and her full lips were too much for him. He couldn’t say no. “Sure why not?”

Libby sort of yelped. “We are going to the movies!” Tommy laughed out loud at her reaction.

Part Three Trent headed straight for his destination. Mexico. There were road blocks on the main roads, but he didn’t take the main roads. He took the back roads that no one even knew existed. The Marines had taught him one thing for sure, if they didn’t teach him anything else, and that was survival. Trent skidded around gravel road and curves as if he was in a race and he was ... a race against society ... against the law. He didn’t have millions of dollars, but he did have enough to get himself started, and that is exactly what he was going to do. Trent knew his route and he also knew the only worry he had right now, was when he came to Junction 90. He would have to be on the main road for three minutes before he could veer off it, once again. This was the scary part, but Trent believed he could do it. His motor sounded like a jet engine as he traveled down the dirt road fish tailing as he went. He thought back to his childhood as he drove. It was not a bad childhood. His parents were good to him. They loved him. They provided for him. Oh well, none of it mattered now. He could see the stop sign ahead, and he began to slow down. He would have to look all the way around before entering the main road, to make sure that no cops were around.

Part Four Cory was released from the hospital and relished the thought of going home. He relished the thought of going home to his television, and his fridge, and his bed. The cab picked him up promptly at 9:00 am. from the hospital. They rode in silence all the way to his house and he tipped the cab driver, before getting out of the cab. “Thanks son!” The cab driver was a truly nice person. Cory thought to himself. “No problem Sir.” Cory walked up the sidewalk to the house. Home crap home.

Chapter Thirty- One Rick was having a hard time in dealing with April’s death. It was not fair, and he hurt terribly. The kids sat in the living room and the sadness in their eyes, was overwhelming. Rick looked at them and shook his head in despair. How could he ever bring them back, when he couldn’t even help himself? He walked to the kitchen and sat at the table. This house was so empty without her in it, making it breathe life. Rick knew he needed to talk to someone ... someone who could help him get through this.

Part Two Trent spun his car in a 180-degree circle, as he rounded the graveled curve on the oldest back road in Arizona. Skidding to a stop, he looked down both ways of the facing highway. He saw no one, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. He knew that and the service had taught him to be cautious and cautious he would be. He pulled out slowly, keeping his vision in intact. He stepped on the gas and kept it steady until he could get off that road, and onto another dirt road, where he felt the safest. “How about a little radio?” Trent talked to himself a lot, but who cared if he didn’t?

Part Three Tommy’s doctor hated the thought of calling Tommy and giving him any bad news. This really tore the doctor up inside, because she liked Tommy. Tommy had always been so respectful and so eager to be polite. He was an all in all, good person and the doctor hated that she had to deliver such bad news to such a good man. But it had to be done. She thought a minute before picking up the phone. Maybe she should just go to him, and not be so informal? The doctor made the decision to do just that and go to him and tell him face to face.

Part Four Linda awoke with a start. Had she quit breathing again or had she just been dreaming? She sat on the edge of the bed with her hands over her eyes. She hated this! She had been sleeping so sound or so she thought, and then to be awakened like this really put a strain on her mind and body. She got up and put on her house slippers and her house coat and went down stairs. Entering the kitchen Linda felt somewhat dizzy. She sat down on a kitchen chair and held her head in her hands. “Dang it, what’s going on with me?”

Chapter Thirty - Two Tommy sat on the front porch and thinking about his time in the marines. Being a Marine, was what made him strongest when he felt the weakest. He knew this and yet he couldn't help holding a grudge against the government, for what had happened to him, while he was in there. Sure, he got a small pension and compensation for the damage done to him, but really... what was that? How did money compare to freedom of movement? Freedom of living your life to the fullest extent? It didn't. Money could not make up for what he had lost. Sure, he was a Marine, but he was damaged goods left over by our government. This, he could not forgive them for, and yet he went through his daily routines as if he held no malice at all toward anyone. Why did he continue to live a lie? Because. Simple as that. Because. "Hey good looking, how are you feeling this beautiful bright morning?" Libby smiled as she came out onto the porch, to sit by Tommy. Tommy smiled back and reached out to hold her hand. "I'm doing okay beautiful, how are you?" Libby snuggled against him and kissed him on the cheek. "Just great, since you came along!" They sat there watching the squirrels and birds as they acted like they were preparing war upon each other. The sound of the birds telling the squirrels to stay out of their nuts and the squirrels screaming back that it was a free country, kept Tommy and Libby entertained for most of the morning. Tommy looked at her and saw how beautiful she was, and guilt consumed him. Guilt that he had not been completely honest with her yet. Guilt was a powerful thing if you coupled it with shame. So, he did what his conscience told him to do and he fessed up. "Hey Libs, did I ever tell you what all is wrong with me? Beyond the obvious?" Libby looked at him intently, not just because of what he had just asked her, but

because he had suddenly given her a nickname...it was sort of a romantic thing in her mind. Getting back to the question at hand, that he had asked, she shook her head no and kept her expression steady. "Well I feel it's only fair that I be honest with you up front Libby, and that you are aware of what you are getting yourself into with this relationship." Tommy stopped talking and kept his eyes on her. Libby leaned her head on his shoulder, snuggling closer to him. "Alright, Tommy...shoot!" Tommy let out a deep long lingering breath before he began. "Here goes everything. I have hepatitis c and Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma. I also have a slight case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, but it doesn't bother me too much, so it must not be too bad." Libby kept quiet for a couple of minutes and left her head laying on his shoulder while squeezing his hand for reassurance. After only a few seconds, Libby spoke, and not with a shaky voice, but with a firm and reassuring tone. "Tommy, I'm sorry that you have all those things because it must make it hard on you but, I am not afraid to love you or to be with you because of those things. I am willing to suffer with you, if you'll have me, and maybe together we can make it so that you don’t suffer too much from those things." Tommy looked at her in wonder. What she had just told him was the most loving and honest to goodness beautiful thing, anyone had ever told him. "Are you sure, Libby?" She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "Of course, I'm sure, Tommy!"

Chapter Thirty -Three Rick took the kids and went shopping for food that they needed. Food and Taxable. "Daddy can we eat out today?" Tasha, Rick and Aprils youngest, spoke with certainty as she asked. "We'll see, Tasha. Let's get through this shopping first, okay baby?" He could see Tasha’s expression and it wasn’t kind. Rick looked back at Sam. Sam had not spoken since his mother’s death. Rick felt bad for him and he knew without a shadow of a doubt how much Sam missed his mother. Sam was always hanging on her and hugging her, and oh boy, had April loved it! Now Sam felt abandoned. “Hey Sam, what would you like to eat?” Sam didn’t answer him, instead he just stared out the window.

Part Two Trent did a U-turn in the middle of the road. He hadn’t seen the road block before he had turned onto I-93. How had it come to this? Why had he taken this chance on his freedom, his life? He turned onto a side road he had never been on before in his life. Where it would lead, he didn’t know. He looked at the gun laying on the enger’s seat. It was a quick second’s look, but it burned in his brain. The black shiny glow of it. The cold look of it. Trent skidded around gravel curves and sliding and fish tailing to beat hell. He hit the radio knob with a finger turning it on and turning the volume up, so he could not even hear his own thoughts. BTO played on the radio and the thought that it ironically being his favorite, song entered his mind. He looked in his rear-view mirror and through the dust filled air he could see lights behind him. There was no way any cop would chase him down this old road... no way! Trent pushed the peddle to the floor and cut short of going off a cliff, making his turn onto a grassy path. He sat still and watched until the car went by. It was not a cop. Letting out a breath of relief and wiping the sweat from his brows, he started the car back up and backed out of the grassy trail and continued his way to where ever this life led him.

Part Three Cory opened his eyes to a wonderful day and after along conversation with his conscience, he decided to try to make the most of his life by finding something, anything, that would take his mind off his depression. Today, would be the first day, of this new life. Stretching, he opened the patio door and took in a deep breath of fresh air. It was wonderful! He still felt pain from the beating he took, but it would stop, and it would go away, and he knew this. That beating was just an eye opener for him. A jar back to reality that he so desperately needed. Cory sat on the patio and kicked his legs up on the little table sitting back to fully enjoy the sun and closing his eyes to fully enjoy the sound of the birds chirping. He felt at peace. That didn’t happen often or as often as he would like it to. Peace felt so much better than anger or depression. He never really understood exactly why he was like he was; depressed or angry or unpredictable; and the doctors all said he had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and that he would have problems all through his life because of it. Of course, when he asked the question of, exactly what is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder? They in turn said; "We'll give you some literature on it so you can research it for yourself, Cory" Oh, and did I mention how helpful that was? The phone rang inside the house and he opened his eyes. Well there goes all that peace and quiet. Getting up he went inside to answer it. “Hello?” He almost let it sound like a burden. “Hello is this, Cory?” “Yes, it is, and may I ask who this is?” The voice was that of a woman and a meek voice at that. The woman let out a scared breath before answering. “This is Delaney from the hospital. Your nurse.” Cory let his eyes widen and then quickly regained his composure. “Oh yes, I . Can I help you with something, Delaney?” She let out another scared breath and her voice

almost sounded full of dread as she spoke. “Well, I just wanted to check on you.” It was Cory’s turn to breath fear. He wasn’t afraid of her, but more afraid of what this gesture of kindness made him feel inside. “Oh, I see. Well, thank you Delaney. I appreciate that. I’m doing better, and, how are you?” “I’m doing great, Cory. Thank you. How’s your head?” Cory laughed aloud at the question. “It’s fine. I’m healing, I guess. A little dumber than I used to be, but I’ll survive. I think.” Now she laughed. Together they giggled for what must have been three minutes straight. “Good for you, Cory. I’m sure you will survive indeed!” Cory only took a moment to come up with a brilliant idea in his opinion. “Hey, do you think you might want to go out with me tonight? Maybe get something to eat and catch a movie?” Delaney made no hesitation in answering. “Sure Cory! I would absolutely love to!”

Chapter Thirty - Four Rick had stopped to get the kids a bite to eat. Sam hadn’t touched his and Rick was worried about him. He just wasn’t eating right, anymore. Not since his mother died. “Hey Sammy, would you like something else to eat, little buddy?” Sammy looked at his dad and shook his head. “No daddy.” Rick pulled into the drive way and shut the car off. Sitting still for a moment and thinking like he always did. “Okay kids, lets bail out of here and go inside.” All the kids got out and walked to the door behind their dad. He unlocked the door and they all stepped into the house. Rick threw his jacket on the bench by the door just like he had done for years and went into the kitchen to get something to drink. The kids went to their rooms and shut their doors. Shutting out the rest of the house and shutting out the memory of their mother, who was no longer there. Rick felt miserable and lonely, and he felt afraid and sad. All the things a spouse and a friend, left behind, would and could feel, Rick felt. He knew he had to get himself together soon. He had to pull his emotions together in one little clump and hide them away somewhere. His kids needed him, and he was no good to them like this.

Part Two Trent skidded to a stop at the stop sign. Not that he was really trying to obey the laws obviously, but because a small dog stood in the middle of the road. Trent blew his horn trying to get the dog to move. “Damn its dog!” Trent cut his wheel to the extreme right, trying to get around it. The dog then turned and walked to the right, staring at him every step of the way. “What the hell?!” Trent shook his head in disbelief. The dog was trying to prevent him from going on! This was what Trent felt. He decided to get out of the car and literally move the dog out of his way. Jumping out and looking behind him to make sure nothing was coming, he walked around to the front of the car and stood looking at the dog. Trent had left the driver door open when he got out to shew the dog away. This enabled the dog when he chose to do so, to move past Trent and jump in. “Hey! wait a minute dog!” Trent moved quickly, but not quick enough. The dog had jumped in and was now sitting in the enger’s seat staring at Trent as if he was waiting for him to enter also. “What the hell are you doing dog?” The dog simply sat there looking at him and panting. Trent shook his head in disbelief but got in anyway. “Okay dog, this is how it’s going to be. I can tell you this much right now, you are going to sit there and keep your mouth shut while I concentrate on what I’m doing. No barking, no licking, no panting!” With, he put his hand over the dog’s mouth to make it stop panting. “And dog, I hope you did your business already, because I am not pulling the hell over, for nobody!”

Part Three Robert woke up one day and decided to turn a new leaf in his life. No more cigarettes, no drinking, and no more yelling. Yelling was one of his worst habits. Sandy knew that Robert was a strong man. So far, he has managed only the drinking and smoking cigarettes part of quitting. Robert felt betrayed once again by what was supposed to be his parent. Government. He was sick of their lies and he had finally seen them for who they really were. Sandy knew Robert had problems. If anyone knew it, she did. He could go from one extreme to another in a split second. From overly happy, to overly sad. From overly kind, to overly mean. It was always hard to live with him, but she loved him. It was especially hard to live with him while she had her own illness to deal with. Dealing with being bipolar was a real job, and the fact that she didn't take medications for it made it harder. She and Robert argued a lot. Simple things would trigger it. But the result was always the same. They loved each other, and when it came to grit, they would defend each other. Sandy thought about how he normally was daily. He was mean spirited and could be cruel, he was hateful and angry most of the time, and he constantly reminded her of how she and the kids were his biggest burdens. But that was during his depressed spells, his P.T.S.D spells. There were the times when he would talk about how lucky he was to have his family, her and the kids. How smart she was, how beautiful and how beautiful and smart the kids were. This mingled with her own mental illness created so much pain for her, but she kept on. She kept on trying to help him, because she loved him. She had faith in him, and she wanted ... no, needed him to love her back. She always told him that he was her first love even though, she had been married before. She knew in her heart and mind that he was her ultimate love and her first love. How could she abandon him? She couldn't. She would take the emotional abuse and she would take the name calling ... the cut downs ... just because occasionally, she had the best treatment from him. Occasionally, she had the romantic side of him, the sweet side and the loving side, making it all worth it to a certain point. She loved him. And she knew he needed help. She would help him. But this VA thing, was driving them both crazy! He was fiftyeight and very sick and they were taking their time making it right with him. Chapter Thirty - Five David stood in front of the mirror, staring at himself.

He looked old and he looked worn out and he felt alone. He felt old and alone even though, he was only forty-six and even though, he had his mother, he felt old and alone, regardless. He had ruined it once again. His woman left him...and not for the first time either and not for the second time, but for the last time. He believed this would be the final time. As a matter of fact, he knew it would be. David thought about his mother. She was old and in bad health and she wouldn't be here too much longer. He knew this and he didn’t think he could survive without his mother. Not without her, and not on this planet. His mother was the only person in this whole world who loved him unconditionally and regardless of how he was. His mother had always been so good to him and so loving to him. How could he have become what he was today, after being raised by such a good and loving mother? He had no children, never had the desire for one. No friends and soon...no mother. After all was said and done...no hope. Uncle Sam had taken from him for the last time. They would not be allowed to do it again. He would not allow it. He would fight them one last time and win. He would show them who the boss was, and they would know he had rebelled against them and that he had won. He looked up to the Heavens and talked to God. Yes, he was a believer in Christ and yes, he worshiped God, and yes, he knew God was listening. "Dear Lord, please forgive me for my sins and my transgressions. Please forgive me for not appreciating all you have done for me and given to me. Please forgive me for not loving you as much as I should have, or as much as I wanted to. Please God, forgive me for what I plan to do, and Lord please, see me through it. See my mother through it. Please know that I tried and I failed myself. Please forgive me for that Lord. For failing." David lifted the gun to his mouth. With one last look at the failure he’d become, he pulled the trigger. It was loud and it was messy, but the ultimate result was that it was final.

Part Two Cory dressed in his best attire. He would be taking Delaney out to dinner tonight, and he was shockingly so very excited for some reason. He picked up his Polo cologne, knowing full well how good it smelled and believing she would really like it. He was finally ready. He walked down stairs and grabbed his jacket. He wouldn't wear it just yet, but would take it just in case. Locking the door, he walked to his car and got in. He was supposed to pick her up at six o’clock and he would not be late. He refused to be. Starting it up he flipped on his radio and flipped it to a heavy medal channel. He of course, would turn it off before he got to her house, but it was a mood setter for him. Cory finally had something to look forward to and really to be completely honest, he’d never thought that a woman could make him feel this way, not once. This was a nice feeling to him. A nice chance for him. He knew deep inside there wouldn't be too many more chances like this, for him. He knew it and he would not mess this up. His mother always told him that if he could find a good woman and he could truly love her and if he knew she loved him back, not to mess it up, cause that kind of relationship didn't come around too often. He was going to follow his mother's advice this time.

Chapter Thirty-Six Lyle entered the church without hesitation. He was in all aspects ready to surrender. Not to what he considered the enemy, but to God, his savior. He was all alone in this church but didn’t feel all alone. Lyle knelt onto his knees and looked at the figure of Jesus, that was hanging on the wall. It was beautiful and it made him want to bow his head and pray. Lyle knelt on his knees for what seemed to him to be an hour. He did not regret it. God knew he needed him. God knew where his mind was and where his heart was. Lyle knew he needed God, and because he knew it, he had made the decision to accept it. That is what this was all about. His decision was final, and God would know how serious he was. All his life he had been fighting demons. Not the snarled teeth ones, but the emotional and mental ones. Today he would be fighting those demons and he would win, because he had God on his side. Lyle bowed his head and began to pray. He felt at peace for the first time. He felt whole for the first time, and he felt free for the first time, since the service. Free from guilt or shame or dishonor. Free from confusion and anger and pain. He stood afterward and walked up to the statue of Jesus and placed his hand upon Jesus feet. He then leaned forward to softly kiss his feet and closed his eyes to relish in the peaceful feeling that had come over him. Lyle was free.

Part Two Brandy had baked a birthday cake for Jim. It was pineapple with cream cheese icing. On top, she placed one candle. This candle was not to represent his birth years on earth, but to represent his birth years with her as a family. She had finally realized she was loved. This was the hardest thing she had ever had to do. To accept someone’s love. To give someone love. It was the hardest thing, and yet the easiest in some ways. It was hard to understand, but well understood, by her. Brandy finished with the cake and stepped over to the kitchen door to call for the kids. They came running as soon as they knew the coast was clear. Jumping up and down and excited by the beauty of the cake and the fact that Brandy loved their dad. Brandy laughed out loud because of them, but then quickly asked them to quieten down. "You guys, we have to all stick close together when I carry this cake out, and each one of us have to sing happy birthday to your dad. Understood?" The kids agreed happily, and each got behind her in a line.

Part Three Trent and his newest addition to the car, the dog, rode in silence. Just as Trent had asked, until the dog barked. "What? what are you barking about, dog?" The dog looked at Trent and then back to the road and continued with a low deep growl. Trent followed the dogs stare and the hair on the back of his neck was beginning to stand on end. There had to be something for the dog to act this way. What the hell was it? Where was it? As this thought ran through Trent’s mind, his tire blew out and he swerved uncontrollably and almost lost complete control but managed to gain it back with his driving expertise. "Great!" Trent knew he had a spare, but didn't for any reason desire to take the time to put it on. The dog kept his growl going and that caught Trent’s attention even during his aggravation. He looked carefully all around where they were stopped. Then he saw it. Trent was looking at what wouldn't have been obvious to a human, but what was ever so obvious to his new dog. There during the woods and high up on a hill was a man. The man had a high powered rifle glaring straight down on Trent’s car. The dog stared relentlessly at the man then stopped his growling and began barking again. Trent reached over and patted his head; finally, thankful he had the dog with him. "It's okay boy, we aren't going to be stupid, watch how it's done, my friend." Trent then started to back the car up. He knew by now the blown tire was not an accident and he also knew that if he didn't play his cards right, that these cops were out to seek and destroy, and not just hurt and recover.

Chapter Thirty-Seven Robert finally received a letter in the mail from the Veterans board of appeals. He dreaded opening it. Sandy sat right beside him. She too was very nervous. This might very well be the same as every other letter, a denial. “Go ahead Robert, open it.” She felt her blood pressure rise. He took his pocket knife and slit the envelope neatly. Pulling the letter out, he looked at her. “Say a prayer, baby.”

Part two Trent went as fast as his crippled car would take him. The dog bouncing around in the enger's seat, but hanging on! Trent looked behind him and could see nothing following. He was smart enough to know they had the road block set up ahead and knew he could not go to the end of this road and be caught. He looked behind him again. The coast was clear. He hurriedly turned left on to another grassy path. He knew farmers used these paths for their trucks and tractors and it would be safe for his car. He got off the gravel road as quickly as he could and barreled down the path. The dog was hanging tight as Trent drove like a maniac. He stopped when he got to the wooded area. His car was hidden and could not be seen by anyone unless they drove right up to it. That would give Trent plenty of time to defend himself. He and the dog got out of the car. Both kept their eyes toward the direction of the road. "What do you think, dog?" Trent had in the last thirty minutes grown to like his new companion. The dog looked up at him and wagged its tail as if to answer that he thought they had done good. Trent reached down and patted the dog on the head. "You're a good boy,

Part Three David's mother had called to check on him. She had gotten no answer and this had worried her. She called several times that day. She knew something was wrong, but never in a million years thought he would have killed himself. She thought that maybe he was sick or in bed or even asleep. But still he should have heard the phone. Dialing the police, she felt dread and her hands shook. They answered. "Chicago police. What’s your emergency?" Rose tried to swallow before speaking and it was hard to do. She felt the lump form in her throat and it was almost impossible to get it to go down enough to speak. "My name is Rose Marshall, and I have been calling my son and getting no answer." The policeman was very busy and felt an instant aggravation with this old woman, for keeping tabs on her son. "Ma'am I'm sure he's okay. You should try to call him again. Maybe he was just in the shower or something." Rose felt the tears threaten to fall. "Sir, I know you don't know me or my son, but he is a war veteran and he is mentally ill. I call my son every morning and every afternoon and of course every evening, and at the same time every day. He has never failed to answer my calls. He is not answering today, and I have called him ten times. There is something wrong and if I was able sir, I would go see for myself, but I am not able. I am crippled and in a wheel chair. So, if you would sir, would you please send someone over to check on him?" The officer felt a twinge of guilt. He also had a mother and knew how this woman must be feeling. What if his mother had called in, and someone had gotten aggravated with her? He let that thought linger until he knew what the right thing to do was. "Ma'am, I will personally go check on him, myself.

Will that make you feel better? I'll just need the address, ma'am." Rose did finally let the tears fall. This man’s comion overwhelmed her. "Yes, thank you, sir. The address is 1740 Hyphen Ave. He lives by himself sir." The officer wrote the address down and told her that he would have her son call her, when he himself got there and talked to him. "Thank you so much son, and God Bless you!" Rose hung up and continued to sit by the phone, waiting. Part Four "Will you marry me?" Tommy asked the question half expecting Libby to laugh in his face. Who would want to marry a one legged man that carried every disease known to mankind? He braced himself for just that outcome to his question. Libby had tears in her eyes. Tommy had asked her while they lay in bed, with him on his side facing her, and her on her back, looking at the ceiling. She could only see the outlines of limbs and wild birds as they landed on the limbs. The moon light allowed her imagination to run wild. Turning toward him, she placed her hand on his cheek softly. "Oh, Tommy do you really mean that, really? Tommy cleared his throat. He was shocked that she hadn't made fun of him or stated the obvious. But he should have known better. Libby wasn't a mean person, and she wasn't the type of person to hurt someone’s feelings. "Yes Libby, I really do mean that. Will you marry me?"

Chapter Thirty-Eight Lyle had gone home and picked up his bible. He was a changed man now, and he felt the need to show God the attention that God had shown to him. He opened it and began reading. He still felt at peace. It was a good feeling, and it one he hadn't felt for so very long. He read awhile and then he went to bed. He hoped with everything that he was that, he would feel this same way tomorrow, upon awakening. The bed was softer than he ed it being, and he went straight to sleep. Lyle dreamed all night. Not about anything, but he dreamed all the same. He knew that God had something special planned for him, he just didn't know what, and he sort of liked the idea of it being a surprise.

––––––––

Part Two Brandy and Jim decided to get married. The plan was to tie the knot and move out of state. Brandy was all for it. She needed a new start, and apparently so did Jim and the kids. They had the wedding at the justice of the peace. It was quiet, with just the kids and the preacher, and themselves, of course. It was a wonderful day for Brandy. She was happier than she had ever been. Jim seemed happy too and the kids were overjoyed. Yes, it was a good day for all of them. The sun was shining, and birds were singing. It just seemed to her to be the perfect day, blessed by God.

Part Three Cory picked Delaney up, right on time. Just like he promised. She opened the door with a smile and greeted him with a sweet pat on his chest. "I’m so glad you didn't stand me up, Cory!" she said, laughing. "Oh, I'm not a stander upper in the least, girl." He also laughed. "Where are we going?" she led him through to the living room and motioned for him to sit down. "I don't know, you have any special place, in mind?" Cory would leave it up to her, because he was a gentleman. "Hmm, maybe Louie's?" She loved that place, because they always served her favorite things like baked potatoes and Lasagna. Cory smiled. Not because she looked so pretty while she said it, even though she did, but because secretly that was his favorite place too. "No problem, Louie's it is!"

Author Note:

Being married to a veteran is very hard when that veteran is ill. The mood swings with mental disorders are treacherous and very painful. The pain you must watch them go through, is hell. It hurts them and it hurts you. It even hurts the kids, if you have any. Veterans are not like other people. A lot of them are mad at the world because of their time in the service, because of boot camp, and the abuse that they endure there by drill instructors, and the intensive training they must go through. A lot of veterans are physically and mentally ill. Diseases that some only read about, a lot of veterans carry. This is in all reality, due to some form of carelessness of the military. They come home from the Military world expecting all due respect for what they willingly did, and instead they get disrespect. No one bothers to ask them how it was and really listen to what they say, what they mean. I bothered to listen to my husband, and I bothered to listen to others and that's how this book came about. I thought to myself; This is wrong! It is wrong to ask so much from men and women and give them so little in return. You would truly think that if someone comes back from the service sick or injured, that our country would immediately make it right. That the veteran shouldn’t have to suffer or worry, but that isn’t how it goes at all. There is a great deal of waiting and a great deal of suffering, before our government takes care of our brave men and women.

Chapter Thirty-Nine The officer that Rose had called concerning her son David, did just what he said he would do, and he went to David's house and knocked several times, before he decided to call it in. When the door was opened, three officers walked through the bottom level of the house. While downstairs they heard the phone ringing continuously. John, the officer Rose had spoken with, knew it was her calling. He didn't answer and told the other two officers not to answer. Not until they verified what was going on. John made his way upstairs. The hallway was dark, almost reclusive, but John had his flash light and did turn it on so he could see where it was, he was walking. He tried a bedroom to his right. It was the first one as he had reached the top of the stairs. It was empty. No furniture and no bed. Nothing. He shut the door and proceeded to walk to the next door which was on the left. He opened it slowly and peeked in. He could see something red on the mirror, but the way the bed was situated he could not see the floor in front of the mirrored dresser. John walked to the end of the bed and saw what it was he did not want to see. He saw who he believed to be Rose’s son David, and he was in a clumped mess. His head was scattered on the floor beside his torso. In his right hand was a small hand gun, and in his left hand, a note. John called for the other officers. "Boys, I found what we were looking for. You need to call a coroner." A voice came back at him. "What about his mother?” John shook his head in disbelief and mourning for someone he didn't even know. "I'll take care of that."

Part two Trent and the dog stood during the woods and waited. The dog lay down in the grassy area and closed his eyes. Trent stood at the edge and watched toward the road for any movement. There was none, and after about an hour, he woke the dog up by calling for him to come. Trent was by the car door and holding it open for the dog. The dog jumped in happily. "Let's get out of here dog and make our way on down to Mexico!" Trent knew he wasn't far from it now, and as he and dog rode, he knew he wanted to keep his friend with him after this. He continued to drive the back roads until he reached his turn for Mexico. He then pulled over and he and dog got out. Trent hoisted his back pack and they headed out walking the rest of the way. He knew that on foot they'd have a better chance of not getting caught. They walked and walked, and soon it became dark. Not many vehicles past them on their way, though they wouldn't have known half the time, because they walked in the woods for the most part. Out of sight and out of mind.

Part Three Officer John watched as the coroner carried David’s body away. In Johns hand was the piece of paper that had been in David's left hand. He looked at it for just a moment, unopened, and then stuck it in his pocket. This would be one suicide letter that the mother of the victim would not see, until he had read it and if it was a decent loving letter, he would then let her have it. But if it was a selfish and cold letter then, he could not do that to her. He could tell by talking to her that she was old and sick and very meek. He could not hurt her with what he was sure was multiple excuses for her son's actions. He would allow her the peace of mind of not knowing why. John pulled out after they took him away. Now he must go to David's mother and tell her what it was she worried so much about. He must watch her cry and maybe even hold her and try to comfort her. But it was his job and even if it wasn’t, it was his conscience. He pulled up in front of her house and saw instantly that she peered out the front window. He felt dread creeping up in his heart and hated the thought that he would have to deliver this bad news to her. But he did have to and only he had earned the right. Walking up to her front door was the hardest steps he had ever had to take. Even when he had gone to investigate a breaking and entering and found a couple who had been shot to death ... even that did not compare to this. As he reached the first step, she opened the door. He noticed that the screen was glass from top to bottom and he assumed as he walked up the stairs that it was so she could see clearly as she sat in her wheel chair. She swung open the screen door so he could come in. Moving her chair back as he entered. "What's happened?" her voice was shaky, and she had forth handily allowed herself to tear up. "What's happened, I asked!" He stood beside her and it came to him that he should squat down so he could look her in the eyes, as much as he dreaded it. "Mrs. Marshall, I have some bad news."

Chapter Forty Trent and the dog had made it to Mexico, his way. The back way. They stopped at a motel and Trent told his dog to stay as he motioned for him to sit by the door. Trent walked in and paid for the room and ordered a meal for him and his dog. He opened the door with the key and let his dog in first. "Hey buddy, it's been a long day, hasn't it?" The dog wagged his tail and jumped up on the bed lying down right away and stretching out. "That's the way to go my friend!" Trent grinned at his dog for the bravery he showed. Soon there was a knock on the door and after the initial startle, Trent ed the food. "I'll get it buddy!" Standing up, he went for the door and swung it open, grinning because he was starving! Suddenly the dog leaped from the bed with a low growl and darted for the open door where the man with the food, stood. "No dog!" Just then Trent saw what his dog had smelled. He no sooner got his eyes locked on the uniformed cop, that the cop pulled the trigger. Trent’s dog had leaped in front of him and took the bullet. Trent had only a moment before the next bullet hit him right in the forehead, to see his dog fall to the ground dead.

Part two Tommy and Libby were married on a Monday morning. Libby always said she liked Mondays and Rainy days, so Tommy wanted her to have a wedding she'd always . Tommy loved so much about her, that sometimes he couldn't breathe. She was a good person. She was loving and comionate and she was smart and caring. He loved her in a way he had never known he could love. Libby looked at Tommy as a man that had saved her. She loved him with all her heart, she loved everything about him, and she had never known love like this before. The wedding went beautifully. Afterwards, they drove to a fancy motel and celebrated their union as man and wife.

Part Three John sat on his couch and pulled the letter that David had written and left behind, out of his pocket. He sat there staring at it for what seemed like an hour. He thought about his own mother and how she would have felt. When John had told David’s mother about his death, he could feel the heart wrenching pain she felt. He imagined then that she was his mother and he held her and comforted her. He then left her to grieve as she needed to. He got into his car and watched as the other officer left and headed back out into the world of crime and sadness. John unfolded the letter, and as he stared at it, the words came to life: Dear Momma I am so sorry that I could not be stronger for you. I am tired and life has taken its toll on me. I will miss you, as I know you will miss me, but we will be together again soon, I promise. Mom, please don't mourn too long for me. I am most likely happier now, than I have been in a long time. I will be waiting for you and will greet you at the gates of heaven. I love you momDavid John continued to stare at the words David had written. It seemed impossible that David could have been a bad person. He clearly loved his mother. John wondered to himself why then, David would have done this terrible act to himself. He wondered what would have driven David to end his own life. John decided right then that he would find out. Picking up the phone he called the station. His longtime friend answered. "Hey Rick! it's John. Can you do me a favor?" Rick was in the middle of paper work so he could finish up and end his shift. "Sure buddy. What is it?" John thought a second about choosing his words wisely. "I need some information on our suicide today, David Marshall." Rick answered quickly.

"You mean the crazy Veteran?" John took offense at that but didn't comment on it. "I'm talking about one of our hero's, Rick. David Marshall, the marine Veteran." Rick quickly apologized. "I'm sorry John, that was wrong of me, and uncalled for. Alright buddy, exactly what do you need to know?" “It’s fine, Rick.” John proceeded to tell Rick that he wanted a complete back ground check on David and that he would need it by morning because he would be going back to David's mothers house. "Sure dude, I can do that. I'll do it tonight, before I clock out and fax it to you, before I leave. How's that?" "That would be great Rick. Really, it would be. Thanks, my friend." "No problem John. You’ll get it here in a bit." They hung up and John retired for the night. Sure he wouldn't fall asleep any time soon, but knowing he would try.

Part Four Robert won his claim. At least partially. They gave him his service connection for P.T.S.D. They gave that to him, but still did not give him benefits for it. He still waited. Robert was sure that the government wanted him to die before they paid him. It was a merciless roller-coaster with them. They seemed to care about no one, especially their veterans. Robert told sandy, many times. There is no getting away from them, once you sign your life away. They will always have this hold. Be it a disease or a thought or an action.

Chapter Forty-One Brandy sought help for her mental illness. It was a big step for her to even it that she had one, but it was a forward step. On the right medications, she functioned quite well. She stopped being so moody and she stopped being so depressed. This gave her and Jim and the kids a chance to bond, and they did just that. They moved away from the city to a farm house in Nebraska. Brandy had always wanted to live on a farm and finally having one, added to her happiness.

Part two Linda stood in front of her brother's home. She had been here many times. Same house, same spot, and standing in the same position. Many times, and many times, she had walked away without knocking. She stood there and stared at the front door. Linda then walked slowly to the porch stepped up onto the first step. She stopped. She listened. Reaching the door, she raised her hand to knock, but before she could it opened. In the doorway stood her little brother. Not so little anymore, and not the little boy she had helped to raise. He was now a man of six foot and two hundred pounds or more. He was as good looking as he always had been. "Hey sis, what's up?" He spoke it with vivacious energy and a smile. She broke out laughing. He had in just a few seconds made her day. "I just wanted to see you, Joey." Linda stood still and smiled. "Well hell sis, come on in!"

Part Three Trent laid so still, by his dog. Both dead. Officer Jones, who had located Trent, stood over the bodies of Trent and his dog and shook his head in disbelief. How could this have happened? Why did this happen? All he had read about Trent was good. The officer who shot Trent and his dog came to stand beside him. "I hit him dead on, right between the eyes!" Officer Jones looked at the other officer and let out a disgusted grunt. "You’re a dumb mother fucker! You have no idea of what you just did." The other officer looked at Raymond Jones in shock. "What the hell?" Raymond shook his head in pure dissatisfaction. "You were not supposed to shoot either one. You were supposed to wait for orders! This is a government soldier, and an American hero. You don't just shoot them on sight!" The officer laughed, which pissed Raymond off entirely. "What the hell are you laughing at?" "Oh, I don't know. You are acting like this piece of Shit means something, I guess. He killed a cop, damn it! That means something!"

Part Four David’s funeral was on a Wednesday. It was rainy and cold and his mother sat crying by the casket. Her wheel chair was locked, so she wouldn't accidentally roll. They shot the gun like they always do for their service men, but David’s mother could not be comforted by that. They were the reason behind his suicide. They were the cause of it all. Finally, it was time to lay him to rest and David’s mother unlocked her chair to move out of the way. She did not want to leave him. She did not want him to be put under the dirt. This was her baby and her best friend. But she didn't seem to have a say in it.

Chapter Forty-Two Tommy and his wife moved to Arkansas and began again. Tommy found a new VA and this VA made him a prosthetic leg. Tommy was now able to walk beside his wife. She didn't realize just how tall Tommy really was. He was once again proud, and this made his life much easier. It made both their lives easier. Libby became pregnant the first month they were in Arkansas. She and Tommy were overwhelmed with excitement and Tommy could barely maintain a straight face. He was ecstatic! This was a new beginning and it looked as though they were on their way to a happier life.

Part two Robert knew he loved Sandy, and after they had calmed down he told her so. He did not want to lose her, and Sandy knew without a doubt that he did love her. She also knew she did not want to lose him. She had never loved any one the way she loved Robert and she could not imagine herself without him. Now that Robert could provide for his family and the pressure was lightened, he was calmer. And this made a difference in his behavior. Sandy finally got to see the real Robert again, after all these years. The comionate Robert and the caring Robert and the romantic Robert. This made a difference in Sandy too. Robert got to see the real her again. She was very caring and very comionate and very loyal to him. They decided to move deep into the country for privacy and the kids had a blast. Chris always loved the woods and there was plenty of those here. Sarah always loved animals and she had her choice of them here. Sandy always wanted her own room for her writing, and she had that here, looking out at the open yard and meeting the woods, made it so much easier for her words to flow. Robert had always wanted peace and quiet and here he got it. He was able to sit on the porch and smoke his pipe and listen to the critter's sing. His mental illness took a back seat for a while and he was able to relax. He still had cancer and he still had Hepatitis C, but he also had peace of mind, now. That made the whole difference.

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Part three John had received his information on David not long after his conversation with Rick. Rick had truly out done himself this time. John leafed through the papers over and over, reading about David. His time in the service and his time as a civilian, after the service.

He stopped now and then to take a sip of his Bacardi rum. Every now and then, he would let out a muffled sigh after reading something about David that made him feel sad. After hours on end and almost daylight, John pushed the papers aside and leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes. So, this David was a hell of a soldier and while being that, he contracted many illnesses for it? How unfair was that? John stood up and headed for his bedroom. He would get some sleep and then go see David’s mother again. He would make sure that David’s life and death had meaning to this world and that his mother knew for certain that David mattered to more than just her.

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Author Note Remnants of the service bestowed upon these individuals are very heart breaking and time consuming, for them. It's a shame that every man or woman that enlists in any branch of service and risks life and limb to protect us isn't greeted with automatic service connection with benefits, from the start. This government knows that the men and women who serve are destined to have an illness or disease from doing so. It’s like it is written in stone as a requirement. These men and women deserve to be taken care of for their bravery and their selflessness and their Godly intent. What is so wrong with our country that we make these heroes beg and plead for what is rightfully theirs? Ban together and make a difference, like they have. Make it so that these men and women are taken care of without a fight and without humiliation and without suffering, first. They deserve better treatment. They deserve peace of mind. They deserve to live a full life. They, my friends, deserve respect.

Facts concerning diseases and illnesses associated with service connection disabilities mentioned in this story. Links provided. ALS: ALS and service connection Hepatitis C: Hepatitis C and service connection PTSD: PTSD and service connection Depression: Depression and service connection Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma and many more: To Include NHL

Chatter between soldiers: “The Government dictated my life when I was in service and they are dictating my life now. They will always dictate how I live, what I feel, how I live and how I die.”

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It would be nice and right, if the government would just apologize for their wrongs.