Afterhours Inspirational Stories Afterhours Inspirational Stories


Popular Categories

+ Inspirational Stories
+ Inspirational Poems
+ Proverbs

+ Love
+ Parental
+ Life
+ Success
+ Attitude
+ Compassion
+ Work
+ Friendship
+ Honesty
+ Death & Dying

+ God
+ Religions
+ Prayer
+ Christianity
+ Buddhism & Zen
+ Judaism

More Categories...

Other Services
+ Submit Stories
+ Contact Us
+ Copyright Info
+ Privacy Statement

 
Main : Life

Friendly Fire
  by: Jaye Lewis, , Source Unknown

Printer Friendly Version
Comment on Article
Feedback to Author

I have been thinking about him all month, and the thoughts get heavier, as Memorial Day draws closer.

I don't remember his name, but I remember his face -- pale, thin -- and a body, splotched with a cancer that old men get. But he was just nineteen. He was a good looking boy, who should have had a bright future before him. But he was dying. He had AIDS.

I was a Department of Defense "sand crab." One of those faceless, civilian people, who work for Uncle Sam at military bases. It was my job to discharge sailors whose discharges were "other than honorable." I thought about "honor" a lot, that day, as I interviewed that young boy and typed his paperwork. He kept looking at my daughter's picture. She was about his age.

"She's so pretty," he said, wistfully.

I felt uncomfortable. I moved her picture, and I proceeded to do the job I hated. I placed the paperwork on my desk and gave him a pen to sign his name, asking all the meaningless questions I'd asked before, explaining his "rights". He nodded, sadly.

In my heart, there was a rage going on. This boy was being sent home, with an Other Than Honorable Discharge, and it wasn't fair! It was an abomination, and all of us who worked with him knew it! Worst of all, there wasn't a thing we could do about it!

He had been in surgery at a Navy Hospital, and he had needed a blood transfusion. He was given infected blood -- blood that gave him AIDS. When he found out, he went berserk! In a panic, he also went UA, otherwise known as "Unauthorized Absence." The Navy proceeded to catch him, charge him, prosecute him, and discharge him -- through me.

So, there I sat with a young boy who was dying, because he was infected in a Navy Hospital with a disease that, at the time, NO ONE had survived! He didn't yell at me, or call me names, or threaten to have his mother sue the Navy. He just sat there, sweet and hopeless. And I was helpless to do anything, except process him out of the Navy.

Yes, he had committed a crime. Desertion is a crime, according to the Uniform Code of Military Justice. He should have been a man! He should have stood his ground! He should have stayed the course! I knew all the arguments. Instead he ran, and ran, and ran, and ran, trying to escape the disease he had caught in a Navy Hospital.

I completed his paperwork, my heart crying out to God, for some clue that could help his mother get some recompense for the healthy, hopeful child she had entrusted to the Navy -- and for the shadow of a child who was going home. The records were silent. Anything that could hold the Navy responsible was no longer in existence. Everything in front of me condemned him, on new, crisp, white papers.

As he continued to sign his name and date every paper, somehow my fingers got in the way. One of those new, crisp, white papers sliced the tip of my finger and, being a bleeder, I bled all over my desk, and him.

Then he did something extraordinary.

He grabbed some tissues and he began to blot the blood from my hand -- our hands touching, for the first time -- my hand pouring blood onto his diseased hands. Suddenly, we both realized that our hands had touched. That my blood had washed over his lesions, and his lesions had come in contact with the cut on my hand.

Our eyes met for an eternity. Then he jerked his hand away. We never spoke of it. We left the papers as they were, blood spattered, along with his single, bloody fingerprint. Then I sent him home, knowing that he'd never see another birthday.

As we approach Memorial Day -- a day when we remember veterans of the past -- I think of a mother placing flowers upon the grave of a boy, who had died in a losing battle, for his country.




 Related Stories 

 ++ Five Short Chapters on Change
 ++ Morality
 ++ Rebellion Against the Stomach, The
 ++ Free to Soar
 ++ Why Hath Thou Forsaken Me?
 ++ Tragedy or a Blessing?, A
 ++ Eating the Cookie
 ++ Hundredth Monkey
 ++ Irrelevance

 Related Resources 
Books :
 ++ Life Strategies
 ++ Take Time for Your Life
 ++ The Life Strategies Workbook

 

Inspirational Quotes
Jesus Christ
Albert Einstein
Maya Angelou
Abraham Lincoln
Benjamin Franklin
William Shakespeare
George Washington
Buddha
Gandhi
Nelson Mandela
Bill Gates
Aristotle
Socrates
Plato

Contribute Stories - Contact Us - Copyright Info - Privacy Statement

Copyright ©1998-2008. Afterhours Inspirational Stories
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED