People arrived for the Purple Heart ceremony right on time. Family members and nearby friends came to support the soldiers they had spent much time praying for. Stephen stood in a modified parade-rest position as he braced the crutches under each of his arms. His right leg was still in a cast but Stephen had no complaints after recently being released from the facial mask which supported the rapid healing of the broken bones in his face. For all he had been through, he was actually feeling pretty good and recovery had been going better than expected. As positive and encouraging as the staff at BAMC had been, he began to find himself feeling guilty for being there. So many other soldiers had injuries much worse than his. He leaned forward to steal a glimpse of the soldiers to his left. There were a couple of Army guys and several Marines. He had gotten to know all of them over the past months.
Stephen appreciated those who had gathered to be a part of the ceremony. Attendees had been briefed beforehand that at a Purple Heart ceremony one had to be careful with the amount of sympathy shown. The service members being honored need to be treated delicately due to their injuries. However, they were still warriors and overcoming mental ailments could be just as difficult as overcoming their physical ailments. Inside they need to know they are strong, regardless of the injury. The last thing any warrior wanted was to be coddled.
Coddling was one thing; but who would punch a man who was recovering from severe wartime injuries and now standing on one leg and crutches? The impact to his right elbow nearly knocked Stephen over.
“Wake up, Lantz!” Mayweather was looking up at him from the wheelchair with that stupid grin on his face.
“Man! Are you trying to put me back in surgery? You almost knocked me over.”
“You? Are you kidding? With all of us cripples here, I’m thinking if I can take you down… you drop over into Martinez there… he takes down Saenz, who knocks over McRiddle and… well, you get the point. Let’s see how many dominoes fall before they set us all back up.”
“They need to fix that brain injury of yours.”
“No brain problem here, amigo. Just a snapped back and a dozen other broken bones while serving as your personal umbrella.”
“I’m talking about the brain injury that gave you that personality.”
“Ouch! Alright, yeah that was a good one.” Mayweather had met his match for the moment but was quick to keep talking, “Hey man. I think that hot looking mama over there is checking ya out. Maybe she’s got a thing for ugly guys with a limp. Play your cards right and you might get some sympathy action.”
“You have issues. You know that, right? Serious issues.”
Stephen looked across the courtyard to see Sarah staring at him as she approached. Mayweather was right, she looked great. She smiled at Stephen and gave a short but loving wave. He was glad she had made it to the ceremony.
In the street behind her, Stephen saw a green cab pull up. He couldn’t see who emerged from the cab but he assumed it was another friend or family member. It certainly was not uncommon to see a cab dropping someone off but several families had chosen to take up residence in the Fisher House. Since many soldiers had not been released from the hospital during their recovery, the Fisher House provided a place for families to live together, on-site next to the main hospital, while wounded service members recovered from their wartime injuries. The “home away from home” provided all the necessities of temporary living without causing a financial burden to the families. The donated houses had already been an enormous blessing to thousands of military family members.
Unfortunately, the Lantz family wasn’t able to take advantage of the donation. Even with her cancer in remission, Hailey was still too vulnerable to be exposed to the common germs orbiting a hospital environment. Army medical support and the generosity of beloved supporters sustained Sarah and Hailey while they stayed at an Army hotel at nearby Fort Sam Houston. After his injuries reached the predetermined level of healing, Stephen was able to join them while he finished his last few rounds of in-facility cycle of therapy. It also gave him a chance to celebrate Hailey’s sixth birthday outside of a hospital facility, something she hadn’t done too often.
The ceremony was appropriately brief. A full-bird colonel from a Warrior Transition Battalion had officiated and presented Purple Heart medals to each of the soldiers and gave a heartfelt appreciation to the supportive family and friends. The media was present and prepared to interview some of the soldiers, particularly those from the local area. Each of the service members received their Purple Heart medals that day. A few, including Stephen and Mayweather were also given medals of commendation for their sacrificial actions on that fateful day in the desert.
As the Colonel’s recitation on the history of everything seemed to drag on, Mayweather pulled Stephen’s arm down and whispered, “They should give me the damn Medal of Honor for having to stay on your stinky butt so long.”
“Dear lord. I’ll buy you a beer if you’ll shut the hell up.”
“Lemme think about that proposal.” Mayweather offered a feigned moment of consideration. “Yeah, I’m good with that but none of that cheap stuff.”
After the ceremony closed the Colonel invited attendees to take a moment to thank their loved ones for their sacrifice. Stephen was asked to step forward with the others to form a makeshift receiving line. The guests formed a chaotic gaggle until they began filing orderly through the service members. Sarah, knowing she would have him the entire afternoon, patiently waited at the end of the line. Friends and strangers alike shared love, gratitude and support all in the grip of a handshake. Stephen thanked them individually for coming and told them how much he appreciated their support. There were some tears but mostly smiles and several embraces.
Still saying thank you to the elderly gentlemen who was moving on to greet Mayweather, Stephen transitioned and reached out to shake the next person’s hand. There was no hand to meet, and when Stephen looked up he stood shoulder to shoulder with a pair of intimidating eyes emerging from the shadow of a dark beret. The eyes were so acute that they carried with them an ability to penetrate a man’s soul and reveal his deepest secret with but a single glare.
Stephen dared to avert his gaze and couldn’t help but allow his own eyes to admire the firmly pressed uniform of a highly decorated Command Sergeant Major. In an instant, he recognized six rows of ribbons along with a litany of badges which included Pathfinder, Airborne Jumpmaster, Air Assault, Expert Marksman, and the Expert Infantryman badge. On the man’s left shoulder, Stephen could see the edges of the unmistakable tabs identifying him as an Airborne Ranger. Atop the tabs rested a blue and gold one that read ‘Special Forces,’ indicating the man was a Green Beret.
Standing at full attention the man quickly snapped his arm into a perfectly straight salute just to the eyebrow’s tip on his rugged dark face. On the man’s left sleeve, Stephen could see the bottom cuff with sleeve marks representing numerous years of military service and on the right, short horizontal gold stripes above the cuff told the story of multiple combat deployments. Stephen looked at the white letters on the black nameplate which read, “Waters.”