“Why don’t you want to stay in?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I liked it and everything, but when we got ashore…” He sat there for a few minutes, and then quietly, almost whisperingly, said, “I killed people.”
I took the bottle from him and had another drink. “I know, Charlie, I know.” He looked over at me bleakly. “I read some of the reports. I know it probably won’t make it any easier, but you had to do it.”
This time he didn’t grab the bottle back, but just turned and stared into space some more. After another couple of minutes, he said, “We train and we train and we train, but it’s just words. Then I had to actually service my target, and it was just a kid, and he was shooting at us, and I serviced my target. And then the target next to him, and then another target. And they weren’t targets. They were people, guys my age.”
“I know, Charlie. That’s the way it always is. I never liked it either.”
“I’ve heard some of the guys laughing it off, talking about blowing away guys, and I used to laugh, but they’re not just targets!” He kept staring, and then added, “I don’t want to service the target, and now they are giving me a medal for servicing the target.”
“No, Charlie, they are giving you a medal for saving lives, not taking them. Nobody would care if it was just you killing a bunch of gomers. They care because you brought your team home. That’s what you should always remember. You brought your guys home.”
He looked at me. “That’s what you did, isn’t it. You brought your guys home, from Nicaragua, I mean.” I nodded, and he said, “No, I mean, all of it. You actually killed those guys, didn’t you?”
It was my turn to crack the bottle and take a hefty swig. The nice thing about drinking booze you don’t particularly like? After you’ve had enough, you don’t care that you don’t like it all that much! It was good that I didn’t have to drive anywhere tonight. Or be very presidential, either, come to think of it. “Yeah, Charlie, all of it.”
“How do you live with it? How do you deal with it?” He wasn’t accusing me, but wanted to know.
“Just like I told you. I got my men home. That was my job, my mission. I couldn’t let anybody interfere with that. I still see those men, sometimes when I am alone, but I also see the faces of the other guys, the guys who I got onto the choppers and who flew home.”
“Does Mom know?”
I nodded. “She knows. She doesn’t know all the details, but she knows. She’s known since you were a baby. Your mother is how I survive my own madness, Charlie.”
He reached out and took the bottle from me. “I don’t have anybody like that,” he said quietly.
“You have us. You have me and your mother. You have your sisters, though they probably won’t understand. They love you, though.” I thought for a second. “Charlie, tomorrow I want you to come with me and see Doctor Tubb. I know you’ve been seeing him, but you need to talk to him. I don’t know if this is post traumatic stress or something else, but we can get some help. You are not alone. I have been where you have been. Others, too,” I told him.
“I’m not crazy!”
“I never thought you were. You want crazy, I’ll give you my mother’s address. Take this for what’s it’s worth, but on the scale of crazy, this barely breaks a sweat. I’ve seen crazy and you’re not in the big leagues. In fact, you barely make it into Little League!” He smiled at that, the first time I had seen him smile in weeks.
I talked to Tubb that evening, separately from Charlie, and explained what was going on. He told me the symptoms weren’t really PTSD, but more likely some form of guilt and depression, all mixed up with a realization of what had happened. Since Charlie was getting out of the Marines in a few months anyway, none of us cared if seeking treatment would be reflected in his records. He got Charlie transferred to the Military District of Washington, and enrolled him in an outpatient counseling program at Bethesda. That seemed to help, a lot.
At the end of August, we had a very nice ceremony on the South Lawn, and decorated the heroes from Green Delta. The Marine Corps band was present, and we brought in everybody who was to be decorated, along with their families and guests. Charlie was over the worst of his depression by then, and he was the final recipient. The Marines got another ribbon for their battle flag, and the Tarawa group did so, also. There were a number of Purple Hearts, a few Bronze Stars, a couple of Distinguished Flying Crosses, and a single Silver Star. I personally pinned that to his chest, as Marilyn cried and beamed at him. Equally impressive was the French Ambassador, who showed up and pinned the Croix de Guerre on him, including kissing him on both cheeks. Charlie simply had that stoic Marine look plastered on his face, standing there in his Dress Blues through the whole thing.
After the ceremony, I asked him about the rescue incident. “What was that bit about you were the only one who needed to die? Since when did you get so self-sacrificing?”
Charlie looked at me funny. “What are you talking about?”
“When you were in Monrovia, and your buddy got hit, you told people nobody else needed to die but you.”
“Huh?!”
It was my turn to look exasperated. “Charlie, I’m not making this up. We saw it on the video. Right after you rescued those two kids and were heading back, that other Marine tried to run back with you and got shot. Then you pulled him back and told the others to stay where they were. You were the only one who needed to die. I heard about that from a bunch of people! It was in the video!”
He stared at me for almost a minute, and then rolled his eyes. “Oh, you have to be kidding me!”
“Huh?”
“I never meant it that way! Sweet Jesus! I’m not that crazy! I was talking about Birdie, Tyrell Bird! I figured he had bought the farm! I didn’t want anybody else dying like him!”
I stared for a second and then began laughing. “Well, I won’t tell if you won’t. I wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation.”
Lance Corporal Buckman flipped President Buckman the bird. That was captured by the White House Photography Office, but was not released to the press, but only to Charlie and me. A month later he was out of the Corps, older and wiser, I guess.
While our son was getting his act back together again, he went home to Hereford with us for a few weekends. That seemed to help, too. He met with some old buddies from Hereford High, along with Bucky Tusk. Bucky was just out of Wharton, and was working for Tusker and Tessa, who were now planning on a third and fourth sales office. Charlie went down to Tusk Cycle and spent some time working on bikes with Bucky, and then rode around for a bit. Bucky came home with him, and we greeted him warmly. It had been several years since we had seen my namesake.
When they roared up the driveway, we came out and greeted them. For the twins, it had probably been several years since they had seen Bucky. “Hey girls, how you two doing?” He revved his engine for a second, and added, “Want to go for a ride?”
Holly laughed, and said, “No! How you doing, Bucky? Long time, no see!”
“Yeah, I know. How about you, Molly?”
Molly surprised me by saying, “Sure!” Charlie handed her his helmet and our youngest climbed up behind Bucky, and they peeled off down the driveway, with a War Wagon following. We went to the pool, and around ten minutes later, the thunder of a Harley announced their return. “Thanks, Bucky!” I heard, followed by some more thunder, and Bucky was gone.
“Too bad he left. I’m firing up the grill and doing some burgers,” I told Marilyn.
“He might be back. Tusker and Tessa are coming over. I got out enough for all of us,” she replied.