She smiled back and said, "You just behave yourself!" She got up and grabbed me a cold one from the fridge. I just smiled back, and nobody, including her parents, said anything about Mark and me.
Harriet instead asked, "What are you studying, Carl?"
"I'm going to school for mathematics, ma'am.", I answered.
"What do you do then?", asked Big Bob. "Become a math teacher?" He wasn't asking in a rude fashion, but simply because he had no idea what college graduates did when they left college. The only thing he could imagine a scientist doing was working in some kind of school teaching science.
It struck me as a touch odd, so I looked over at Marilyn. "You never told them?"
"It never came up.", she answered, with a shrug.
I looked back at her parents. "I'm sorry. I thought Marilyn had already told you. I'm going to be a soldier. I'm on a military scholarship."
"A soldier!?", squawked both her parents, loudly. I should have expected it. The Lefleur family was the biggest bunch of draft dodgers ever collected in a single place. There must be a gene for public service, and if so, the Lefleur family is completely lacking in this trait. The entire concept of joining the Army, and not just being drafted, but actually volunteering, was utterly alien to them. This actually led to a certain degree of friction between our two families, but it was just one of many reasons we were different.
The room fairly erupted with questions. The only soldiers these people ever had dealt with were the enlisted soldiers up at Fort Drum who would sometimes come down and buy a trailer. Marilyn's parents were rather distressed, in that their daughter was marrying somebody stupid enough to go into the Army, and couldn't come right out and say it to her face while he was sitting there. Likewise, her brothers all found this rather fascinating, if strange. The gene had skipped them as well, along with all their children. Of all of the grandchildren, only Parker ended up serving.
"You're going into the Army?", repeated Big Bob. Sort of like, 'You're becoming a child molester?'
"Yes, sir. It's an ROTC scholarship. They pay for four years of college and I need to serve four years as an officer."
He looked at Harriet with a degree of consternation, and then shrugged. "Does the Army need mathematicians?"
It was my turn to shrug. "I wouldn't know, sir. I intend to apply for combat arms. I'd like artillery, but I'd also go for either infantry or armor."
They stared at me in utter disbelief, completely ignoring the look on Marilyn's face. Her feelings were quite a bit more complicated. In many ways she hated the military, having a very idealistic view of the world. 'Fighting never solves anything' and so forth. On the other hand, she was also proud of our son and his decision to serve, and understood the hard work and sacrifice involved. On this trip through, she was equally proud of me. When I felt her take my hand, I looked over at her to see her smiling at me. That made it all worth it.
It was Harriet's turn to speak. "But that could be dangerous. You could be killed."
"Yes ma'am. I had a second cousin who died in Viet Nam. I never met him, but I heard he died in '68 or so. Another couple of my ancestors died in the Civil War."
Gabriel popped up and asked, "Which side?"
I smiled at that, and grabbed a second slice of pizza. "Both, actually. One died at Chancellorsville and the other died at Gettysburg, but I couldn't say which side they were fighting for. I only know we played both sides of the bet."
"Which one are you descended from?"
"Neither. They had a third brother who was too young to enlist, so he stayed home and worked the farm. Pretty much my whole family has served, or at least the men. Buckmans have been serving the country since the War of 1812.", I explained.
"You're kidding!", commented a horrified Big Bob.
"All of you?", asked an intrigued Luke. He was a young teenager and the idea was fascinating, at least in a sense.
I nodded and chewed my pizza. Once I swallowed I gave the family history. "Marilyn saw some of this when she visited the house. We actually have lists and photos of servicemen. My great-great-whatever came over from England in the 1750s and bought property and became a farmer in Maryland."
"The 1750s? What side was he on in the Revolutionary War?", interrupted Matthew.
"Neither. He was a farmer and wanted to stay out of it. Anyway, he had a bunch of kids and after the war they all thought of themselves as Americans. One of the younger ones joined the Maryland Militia, and was in the War of 1812, and ever since then somebody has been in the service."
"Such as?", he asked.
"Well, his youngest son was in the Mexican War. He got his foot shot off, and went home and back to the farm. He had three sons, two of whom died in the Civil War, and the third had some more sons. For the next couple of generations, the boys joined the Navy. My great-grandfather was at the Battle of Manila Bay. So, after him, my grandfather went into the Army and served in France in World War I. My father was in the Navy during the Second World War. Now it's my turn.", I finished.
Harriet and Big Bob just stared at each other. I was sure that Marilyn was going to get an earful after I left.
"We're in ROTC, too!", piped up Luke, pointing at himself and John.
I looked at the two boys. "Really? Aren't you a little young for that?"
"We're in Navy ROTC.", he said.
I gave him a curious look, and John added, "Junior ROTC. Navy Junior ROTC."
I remembered that Notre Dame actually had an NJ-ROTC program, although I never could figure out why. I think the kids enrolled to get out of gym. They also got to wear uniforms, and the ROTC Ball was the big prom type dance at the end of the year. "Junior ROTC? What's that like?"
I let them yammer away about it. Neither Matthew nor Mark had joined it, but Luke, John, and Gabriel all joined. This was the closest to any form of service anybody in the family ever attempted. Finally I asked, "What happens if you quit?"
"You have to take gym. Why?", asked Luke.
I grinned back at him. "If I quit, they hand me a rifle and ship me overseas as a private. It's a little different."
After dinner everybody sort of moved out to the living room, where the kids turned on the television. The older boys all left, and Marilyn's parents plopped themselves down in armchairs. I ended up on the sofa, with Marilyn curled up next to me. I whispered in her ear, "I don't think your folks think much of me becoming a soldier."
"It's pretty unusual in our family. Nobody's ever enlisted, at least as far as I've ever heard."
"Bunch of draft dodgers!", I whispered, at which she gave me an elbow in the side. I laughed and whispered, "Don't tell them I ran away from home when I was sixteen, or that I'm a pagan. That would drive them totally crazy."
She grinned up at me. "You're not a pagan. You're a heathen. There's a difference."
"Trust me. As soon as they learn, I'll be the main attraction at the next bonfire!" That got me some more giggles and we chatted quietly about the differences between our families. Despite the enormous differences, the Lefleurs were good people, and over the course of my lifetime, I ended up spending much more time with them than with my own family.
After a bit, I asked her, "What's on the schedule for tomorrow?"