G Hopf - The End

“Not this time, sweetie, sorry. Go with Mommy and visit your friend Mason,” Gordon answered, petting Haley’s head. He looked at Hunter who was standing on the step behind Samantha, “Big guy, remember, take care of your ladies while I’m out.”

“Yes, sir, I will,” Hunter said. He was a bit tired now, “Can I play Xbox later?”

The question broke Gordon’s heart. All the little luxuries to which his kids had become accustomed were gone in a flash.

“Sorry, buddy, but the power is out and will be for some time. Why don’t you grab a few of your Star Wars figures to play with at Mason’s?”

“Okay,” he answered, disappointed.

“Okay, babe, I’m out. We’ll probably be a couple hours, maybe more. We should be back by late afternoon,”

He ran to Jimmy’s truck and jumped into the passenger seat.

“Here,” Gordon said handing the HK to Jimmy.

“Whoa. Really? You think it’s going to be that bad? You know I’m not a big gun guy,” Jimmy said, taken aback by the sight of the handgun.

“Listen, I don’t think it will be that bad at Ralph’s but you better get used to it. I believe shit will hit the fan and you better know how to use this thing. Remember what happened after Katrina hit New Orleans or the chaos in the Northeast after Hurricane Sandy? This is like a million Katrinas. Jimmy, you’re going to have to change your perspective. Your business is gone; your job now is to find food and water for your family daily. I don’t mean to preach, but you need to wake up, the lights are probably not coming on for a long, long time,” Gordon didn’t mince words.

“Okay, give it to me,” Jimmy said reluctantly. He grabbed the handgun and slid it between the seat and the center console.

“Enough bullshitting, let’s go get some food,” Gordon said loudly.

Jimmy started the truck. It had a deep exhaust sound. He put it into gear and accelerated quickly, causing a brief spin out. They headed west, toward the slowly descending sun.

Musa Qala, Helmand Province, Afghanistan

“Van Zandt, you awake, bro?” Tomlinson asked. The tent was pitch black, except for a slight haze coming from the old halogen lights outside.

“Yes,” Sebastian answered from the darkness.

“I’m really worried for my girl. You think she’s okay?”

“I’m sure she’s fine; just probably laying around with a candle lit thinking of you,” Sebastian answered.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Tomlinson sounded a little more relieved.

Sebastian tossed and turned, he couldn’t sleep for two reasons; the loud sound of heavy machinery outside his tent and the never-ending thoughts about Gordon, Samantha, and the kids. He felt that he needed to be there with them and was considering voicing his opinion on the topic. He finally made the decision, and since he couldn’t sleep he sat up. He felt around in the dark until he located his boots, put them on, and left the tent headed directly for Gunny Smith’s tent.

Even though it was very early in the morning, there was a lot of activity going on at the base. Everyone was prepping for the move out. Heavy equipment moved items onto pallets and everyone was abuzz.

It didn’t take Sebastian long to make it to Gunny’s tent. He was about to poke his head in and wake him, but paused. Thinking that complaining would get him nowhere he changed his mind and walked away.

“Corporal Van Zandt, did you need to see me?” asked Gunny.

Sebastian turned around to see Gunny Smith walking toward his own tent.

“Yes, Gunny, I was looking for you,” Sebastian walked toward Gunny. Sebastian felt very nervous and now wished he had never decided to do this.

When the two reached each other, Sebastian stood for a brief second, silent. He was still contemplating whether he should voice his concern.

“Well what is it Van Zandt?” Gunny asked, hands on his hips.

“Gunny, I’m trying to figure how to put this— may I speak frankly?” Sebastian asked.

“Let’s go into my hooch, we can have a conversation in there, but please make it brief, we have a lot of work to do,” Gunny said. He walked over to his tent and went inside, “Come on in, corporal.”

Sebastian followed.

“Sit down over there on that cot,” Gunny said, pointing at a cot up against the left side of the tent.

There wasn’t much in the tent, two cots, a make-shift desk with a chair, and a few boxes of Meals Ready to Eat rations. Gunny took off his cover and tossed it on the cot and sat down in the chair.

Gunny just stared at Sebastian waiting for him to talk. He was of average height, lean, always tan and had the scars of war already on his body from his face down to his arms.

“Okay, corporal, what’s on your mind?”

“I’m going to be blunt.”

“Please do, corporal.”

Sebastian kept hesitating, but he knew he was committed to speaking his mind now; he just wanted to phrase it right without looking like a whiner.

“Gunny, I don’t like this idea of going to the East Coast while our families are on the West Coast, possibly in harm’s way.”

“I understand your concern, corporal, but our mission is to go support recovery efforts on the East Coast around DC. You’re a Marine and your orders have been given.”

“I understand that Gunny, you know I do, but has anyone else voiced these concerns to the battalion commander? I can’t imagine I am the only one who has this concern. These attacks on the homeland are unprecedented and put all of our families in life and death situations,” Sebastian said, the tension could be seen in his body as he spoke.

“Yes, your concerns have been expressed. However, we have our mission and we cannot deviate from that. Our new mission is like any other we have taken. We will do it and do it like U.S. Marines. I do appreciate you coming to me and you always know my door is open. I trust that even with your concerns and disagreement with our new mission that you’ll perform your duties like you always have?” Gunny asked as he stood up from his chair.

“Yes, Gunny, of course,” Sebastian assured, standing up as well. Sebastian walked to the entrance of the tent.

“Make sure your team is ready to go, we have company formation at 0500,” Gunny told Sebastian.

“We’ll be ready, Gunny,” Sebastian replied. He exited the tent.

Walking back toward his tent, he felt conflicted. The Marine Corps meant a lot to him but knowing his brother and family were in harm’s way changed everything.

“Van Zandt!” Gunny yelled at Sebastian as he was walking away.

Sebastian turned around quickly and saw Gunny Smith standing just outside the entrance to his tent. Sebastian walked back to him.

“Van Zandt, if you’re concerned about your brother, don’t be; he can handle himself.”

“You know my brother?” Sebastian asked, surprised.

“Yes, I never thought to mention it before but I met him in Iraq back in 2004. We fought together in Fallujah.”

“You were with him in Fallujah?” Sebastian asked. He had never known this and was even more shocked by Gunny bringing it up.

“Yes, I knew him for a very short period, but in that short time, he proved to be a very capable Marine and NCO. I know your brother will be fine; he will have no problem taking care of himself and his family. He’ll do what is necessary now, just like he did in Fallujah.”

“I hear ya, Gunny. I just feel like we need to be with our families and protecting them now. I’m a faithful Marine, but my family is important to me,” Sebastian said.

“Like I said, there are others who feel the way you do and have expressed these concerns with just as much passion, but unless our orders change, we must push forward.”