Kombat Kids - 16. Fun and Games

With the holidays past, the Unit started training in earnest, Matt had a ten man unit of SCUBA divers (wannabe SEALS), and the Gunner was organizing a 1,000 yard shooting team that used M1A’s, the civilian version of the military’s M14’s in 7.62 mm NATO caliber. It was James’ turn now! He announced the organization of a parachute team and surprisingly fifteen squadies and three of the squadie’s fathers came out for the team. James made arrangements to have private lessons given to his volunteers at the local airport. He wanted the team to start out with static line jumping to get everyone use to the idea of jumping out of a perfectly good airplane was really a good thing. The ground school portion of the training went well; you could almost hear a few of the Squadies assholes slamming shut when they were shown a video of a jump made by one of the instructors. When they were told that they would reach a terminal velocity of around 120 miles per hour when they started free fall training, later on in the month, they almost lost a couple of their volunteers.

After the ground school training, the Squadies made their first jump during the early afternoon. James didn’t know which it was harder on, the first ten making their jump, or the remaining nine on the ground watching. James went out the door first. He had always wanted to do it, so when he jumped he yelled loud enough to be heard on the ground (almost) “GERONIMOOOOOOO.” You guessed it folks, Jordan; the Unit’s resident Indian was next. On his way out the door, he let out a war hoop and yelled “CUSTERRRRRR.” As his voice dopplered away, the remaining people on the aircraft, including the pilot all but collapsed in laughter. The people on the ground couldn’t figure why only two jumpers exited the aircraft, they watched the plane, slightly worried as the pilot seemed to loose control for a second or two, then make a long slow turn and make its approach for another jump run. This time there were no problems as the remaining eight jumpers, who had finally stopped laughing, came through the door in precise three-second intervals. By the time James was landing the last jumper had made it out the door and the sky seemed to be filled with multi-colored canopies.

James went up with the last group of nine parents and Squadies to jump. Actually James went up for every one of the jumps because he had always liked jumping and that was one of the few things he missed about the Army. As this was a two day meeting because of the holidays at the end of December, he brought the team back out Sunday morning and they spent the entire day doing jump after jump.

Both the Gunny and Keener were jump qualified by the Corps, but didn’t feel the need to practice, especially when the outside temperatures was still in the 30’s. At the end of the meeting, James told his team that they would be jumping more the next weekend, so to be sure and wear their poly-props.

Tuesday morning, James was on a flight out to San Diego, he was being very secretive about the whole thing and nobody new what he was up to. Saturday morning after the posting of the colors and the announcements, James asked if there were any ex-Air force people among the parents present. He got four hands in response. Out of the four, only one was a pilot, he flew C130’s while he was in the service, when James talked with him a little further, Jeff Morton suggested he might send out a request for information with the Squadies when they went home that night, he might ask about Navy and Army pilots also.

James and his junior bird men went back to the airport and continued jumping all day the next Saturday.
On the following Wednesday, James once again climbed on the morning flight to Seattle with a connecting flight to San Diego. Matt, the Gunny and Keener were starting to wonder just what the fuck James was doing, and whether or not they ought to start to worry about him, or at least what he was up to.

James returned Friday afternoon, now they knew they were in trouble, because he was walking around with a huge shit eating grin on his face that would not go away. Saturday was crisp and cool; all the Unit’s members were present, including two dads who very seldom showed up for the Saturday meetings. The colors were posted and announcements made. The unit broke up into the various groups and the jumpers departed for the airport. Before leaving, James made a short phone call, once again smiling, but still keeping quiet about why. When the jumpers arrived at the jump school, everyone changed into their jump gear, checked out each other’s equipment like they had been taught and headed out to the runway apron to get aboard the aircraft for the first jump of the day.

When they arrived on the apron, they couldn’t understand why the plane they normally used was still tied down with nobody near it. They knew something was up when James pulled a portable radio from his jump coveralls and spoke in to it; …. “Ghost Ryder One Five this is Ghost Ryder six, over? They heard the response; Ghost Ryder Six, Ghost Ryder One Five! …. Ghost Ryder, Six… what’s your ETA, over? Six, Ghost Ryder One Five… we’re on final, three minutes, over! Ahh roger Ghost Ryder, Six out! … Six!”

Everyone looked at James with blank faces, having heard what he said, but not understanding a word of it, they all just stood there. Two minutes later they heard the sounds of a heavy aircraft touching down on the runway, and complete it’s’ roll out before turning and taxiing toward them.

All of the jumpers had seen the Spielberg/Hanks series on HBO or the Discovery Channel, ‘The Band of Brothers’ and all of them immediately recognized the C47 in olive drab and white invasion stripes taxiing toward them. All of his jumpers and the three fathers who were ex-military pilots just stood there, mouths open, not knowing what the fuck was going on.

Jordan was the first to turn to James; “Did you get that for us? Are we going to jump from it? Can I bear your children?

Jordan’s last question broke the spell and everyone started laughing. James looked Jordan in the eye and said, “Yes, Yes, and NO!”

The whole team, including the fathers, all started asking questions at once. James held up his hand and everyone stopped talking. “I went on the web a couple of weeks ago looking to find us an aircraft that would be big enough to take all the jumpers at once. One of the sites advertised an estate sale in San Diego, and they had several aircraft that would have given us what we need. Then I saw the advertisement for this one and I fell in love with it, so I hopped a flight down there and bought it. It took this long because I had it inspected, repaired or replaced any defective parts and then had them install state of the art navigation and communication equipment. You guys are the only ones who know about this. I want to do as many jumps as we can before 14:00, then if we got it to the point where I think it’s safe, I want to jump on my compound. I told Gunny that I wanted all live fire completed and the firearms returned to the arms room by 14:30. I told Matt to have everyone at the rifle range at 15:00 and that we'd meet them there.”

The pilot who’s flying today was contracted to ferry the aircraft up from San Diego and is heading back tomorrow, I want to get one or all of you dad’s qualified to pilot the aircraft for us, that is if you’re interested.”

All three of the men were very vocal in their acceptance of James’ offer, there was a chorus of Fucking A’s, You bet your ditty douche bags, and; Not yes, but Fuck Yess!! When everyone stopped laughing, all of them mounted the stairs the pilot had put in place at the aft cargo door. Once inside, it was hard to believe that this aircraft was 60 some years old, it looked like it had just rolled out of the Douglas Aircraft plant. The pilot was standing in the doorway leading to the cockpit and shook hands with James and the wannabe pilots, he then invited the ex-aviators into the cockpit and explained the old as well as the new instruments and equipment. James requested the pilot to let the men take turns in the right hand seat whenever they were flying, to get acquainted with the aircraft.

The jump team was able to make five jumps before 14:00; James had the jump school instructor act as the Jump Master during the jumps. After the fifth jump James talked with the instructor while all of the jumpers waited to hear if they would be making the jump on the Unit. The instructor agreed with James that they were ready and he would act as their Jump Master for the final jump of the day.

The jumpers went inside the school to take a leak, get a drink of water or pound their pud, what ever they felt was necessary to ready themselves before taking off. At 14:45, after the aircraft had been refueled and the jumpers had their chutes repacked, they once again climbed aboard and the C47 took off and headed west.

“OK guys, listen up! Let’s do this by the numbers, listen to the Jump Master and follow his orders. Jordan? ….”

“Yessir! ….”

“You’re first out the door, I’m last, remember to use the control risers and steer for the area between the range and the house, any questions? …. Anyone?”

The pilot made a high pass over the house and range to get his bearings, then made a long slow turn to the south and then made his approach from east to west at 4,000 feet. During the turn to get lined up for the drop run, the Jump Master yelled; “Stand up, check your equipment! Everyone checked each other to make sure everything was properly worn. Hook up! Nineteen static lines were hooked to the metal wires running down the center of the cabin near the ceiling! Stand in the door! Jordan shuffled to the doorway and stood grasping the sides of the open cargo door. Now the only thing left was the signal from the Jump Master, which came about 30 seconds after Jordan stood in the door.

Matt, Gunny, Keener and the remaining squadies were all standing around wondering what was going on. A little before 15:00 they heard an aircraft fly over heading towards Seattle, or so they thought. Three minutes later they heard another plane flying towards them from the east at a much lower altitude, when it came into view all three of the men couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Before they could come up with an explanation they saw brightly dressed people exiting the aircraft through the side door, then the parachutes started opening and they all knew what James had been up to.

Jordan was the first to land, followed closely by Connor and the rest of the jump team. When James was down and rolling up his chute Matt, Gunny and Keener came running over to him, the first words out of Matt’s mouth were; “Jesus H Christ, do you think that son of a bitch is big enough?”

James laughed; “They did have a C130, but I thought that would be a little much. The C47 was kept indoors and they started the engines once a month, the last time it was air born, was two years ago. And I stole it for $280,000, but I ended up spending another $30,000 to upgrade its avionics.” All the jumpers came running over to James, laughing, grab assing and acting like they had just eaten two pounds of sugar and were in the middle of a sugar high. Jordan got all the boys in a huddle, spoke a few words to them after which they all put their hands together and Jordan said; “Ready! AIRBORNE!!!

Keener looked at Gunny and Matt, shook his head as if he was in great despair; “Shit! Next thing you know they’ll break into song and start singing ‘Blood on the Risers’. Just what we need, more frigging ‘Doggies’.”

James was bombarded with questions from the Squadies about the aircraft and whether or not they would be able to get a ride in it. James assured all of the boys that next Saturday, if he had a qualified pilot available, everyone would get a chance to ride in it.

That night after the meeting had broken up, the Gunny, Keener, James, Matt and the twins sat in the TV lounge and talked about the C47. Matt looked at his brother and asked; “So what’s next, I mean we got air transport one, are you going to go out and buy some ground support aircraft? I mean you haven’t decided to get some P51’s or Spad’s have you?”

At the question, James eyes lit up, but then he shook his head no; “I hadn’t thought about that, it’s a good idea, but no. I don’t think we have the support base for aircraft like that, pilots, ground crews and maintenance people, while we can afford it, I want to be able to keep that kind of thing in the family so to speak, you know, like we recruited the pilots for the C47 from the Unit’s parents.” The Gunny looked over at the twins and saw that they were about to drift off: “OK Squadies time for bed!”

“But Gunny.” Justin whined, “It’s not even 23:00 yet.”

“Tough Shit, I plan on heading back by 09:00 tomorrow, so get your skinny little butts to bed. Oh yeah, keep your peckers in tour pants and go to sleep!

“GUNNNYYYY!” Both the twins yelled with the indignation only thirteen year old boys could put in their voices.

“Move!” Was all he said, but to James, Matt and Keener, he said; “Good night men, see you in the AM.”

James stood up and said; “Night all, I think I’m turning in too.”

Keener and Matt sat where they were and talked about the day’s events and things in general. Matt had been watching Keener ever since the day he and Gunny had arrived. He noticed a certain reserve in Keener, almost an unwillingness to get close to anyone, a kind of fear.

During a lull in the conversation, Matt said; “What’s wrong buddy, you seem so down all the time, not really depressed, just not interested in anything other than your job.”

Keener looked at Matt and thought for a moment before saying; “You know about Gunny’s boy, I mean him being murdered and all?”

“Yes, General Stanton told us about it before sending you guys over, I guess I’m glad I don’t have any kids, I don’t know if I could stand it if one of my kids were murdered.”

“You were there when we got the awards, you heard about Gunny helping to save that marine, and how I helped the Gunny?”

“Yeah, from what the write up said, you both deserved the medals you got.”

“I guess, but what you didn’t hear, and what wasn’t said, was that while I did help Gunny, it was only for about 50 feet. We got that far and my leg gave out, and I went down, we started taking serious fire about then for about thirty or forty seconds before our artillery suppressed them. Anyway, Gunny got between us, put an arm around each of us and hustled our asses out of Dodge. I don’t know how he did it, you know yourself he ain’t that big of a guy, but he all but carried us for another 200 yards before we were able to find cover. He not only saved Jeans life but mine too.

“OK, but I still don’t know why you’re down.”

“I got medevaced back to the states and was in the hospital at Whidbey for close on to three months, recovering from my wounds, then physical therapy. Gunny and the battalion returned a month after I did, while I was in the hospital he visited me quite often and he usually brought his son Tim along. Tim and I became friends and he started to visit me on his own, soon we became more than friends, when I finally got out of the hospital we became lovers.”

Matt remained in his chair waiting, saying nothing.

“You know the skin headed mother fuckers beat him to death, I mean they beat him so bad he was unrecognizable, how he was still alive for the short time until the cops showed up I’ll never know. Gunny almost didn’t survive it. I was surprised that he maintained his sanity after Tim died. I know I was on a very fine edge, I loved that man with my whole being, I seriously considered eating a bullet. Gunny came to me, knowing I was hurting and I guess we held each other together.”

Keener saw the question in Matt’s eyes and shook his head no: “He’s as straight as they come, I knew that, he knew I was gay, we just gave each other the moral support that two men who’ve lost some one give each other when they lose the someone they both loved. Anyway, that’s why I don’t want to get too close to anyone, at least for now, shit; I don’t know Matt, maybe forever.”

Keener was crying now, softly, trying not to be too apparent. Matt moved over to him and took him in to his arms, just holding him. At first, Keener tried to push him away, tried to move off the couch, but Matt refused to let him. Keener finally gave up and collapsed onto Matt’s shoulder and sobbed, deep soul racking sobs, which seemed like they would never end. Finally when Keener stopped crying, Matt pulled him to his feet and lead him the spare bedroom that Keener was using, stripped him down to his skivvies and put him in his bed. Keener just looked at Matt with questioning eyes as Matt pulled the covers over Keener’s body and tucked him in like a ten year old. Matt kissed him gently on the forehead and said; “Things pass, even things as bad as your loss of Tim, you’ll never forget him, not ever, but the memory will be one of love, rather than sorrow. So sleep now, dream of Tim, but only as you remember him as your lover. Good night Keener, God bless you.”

The next morning when everyone had showered and were ready to face another day, they entered the kitchen to find Keener cooking breakfast. The Gunny saw that he seemed to be less withdrawn than he usually was and more, he couldn’t quite describe it, more like the old Keener, the one he knew before Tim’s death. After breakfast and the cleanup was completed, the Gunny turned to Matt and James; “I forgot to mention it, but General Stanton is sending you somemore equipment, he says it ought to be here around the middle of the week. Keener will have to sign for it, but that’s no problem.” He looked at Keener again, and said; “You take care now, I’ll be seeing you next weekend.”

The twins, as was they’re habit since about the third meeting, gave the brothers and Keener a hug before clambering in to the Gunny’s pickup. As Gunny headed out of the parking area, all three gave a final wave and then they were gone.

Wednesday, two semis with low boy trailers pulled in to the parking area in front of the house. Both of the large vehicles were painted in the Corps desert camouflage colors, the contents of each of the low boys were covered by large canvas tarps and securely fastened down with bungi cords. James and Keener were waiting for them when they pulled to a stop, not quite sure what was under the tarps. A Marine Staff Sergeant de-assed the cab of the lead semi and headed toward the two men waiting at the front door; “Which one of you dirt bags is Bateman?”

Keener was just about to jump in the senior sergeant’s shit for the obvious disrespect when James put the back of his hand across his chest; “Which Bateman do you want to talk to Staff Sergeant?”

“Fuck, yeah here it is J. E. Bateman, that you?”

“Yes it is. How may I help you?”

I’ve got two GM V150 Scout Vehicles I’m supposed to deliver to ya, you want to get them to fuck off my trucks, I mean like now!”

Keener jumped in with; “What the fuck is your problem Staff?”

The Staff Sergeant said while looking Keener up and down with a contemptuous look: “Sonny I ain’t got no fucking problem, I also got no time to fuck around with a couple of candy ass civilians so get em off my trucks or I’m leaving. You got 20 minutes.”

Before Keener could go off on the prick, James said, “Stand fast Sergeant Webb.”

James took out his cell phone hit a number on speed dial and waited for a few seconds; “Phil, yeah, James. Yeah we got them; well they’re here, still on the trucks. We have a small problem with the Sergeant that brought them down, he doesn’t seem to care for, or have time to fuck around with two candy assed civilians, yeah, his words. Just a second, here he wants to talk to you.”

The Sergeant said, loud enough to be heard by the General; “Listen asshole I don’t have time to fuck around with your silly assed games, get them off my trucks!”

James put the phone back up to his ear, “Yeah Phil, just a second.” James looked at the sergeant who had come up to the men and was watching and listening to what was going and looked a little ill. “Sergeant Wilson? Here, he said to give you the phone.” James ignored the look that the Staff Sergeant gave him when he took the phone and said; Sergeant Wilson sir.” The Sergeant turned white, “Yes Sir, Yes Sir, Yes Sir, right away Sir. Handing the phone to the Staff Sergeant, he said; “you really want to take this.”

The Staff started looking nervous, took the phone and said; Staff Sergeant Babcock! “A look of shear terror cane over his face; “Ye… Ye…. Yes…. No si… ye… While he was trying to talk, the Staff Sergeant had braced t a rigid attention and was visibly shaking. Yes Sir, immediately sir, Aye, Aye Sir!”

Babcock handed the phone back to James, turned and ran to the truck, shouting for Sergeant Wilson to help get the trucks unloaded.

James then handed the phone to Webb; “Sergeant Webb! Yes Sir Yes Sir, Se Sir, No Sir, Thank You Sir!” Handing the phone back to James and just stood there shaking his head. I don’t fucking believe it, I just don’t fucking believe it!!!”

James took the phone; “What’d you do to Webb, Phil, really, out fucking standing, listen I’m sorry to have bothered you, but Babcock really pissed me off and I didn’t want to get into a pissing contest with him. Yeah thanks, Are you coming down this weekend with the twins, great, see you then. Bye.”

James turned to Webb and said; “Congratulation Staff Sergeant, it couldn’t have happened to a better person.”

The now thoroughly chastised marine Staff Sergeant and the three other marines who had accompanied him rapidly off loaded the two LAV's and James had them move them to the rifle range. When they were finished, Sergeant Wilson walked up to James and Keener and said; “Anything else I can do for you sir?

“What’s with Babcock?” James asked.

Wilson sighed, “He’s been having a pretty hard time of it since he got back from Iraq When he got back to base housing, he found his two kids alone, his wife had taken off with a civilian the day before he returned and left him a note saying she couldn’t take any more shit from him or his beloved Corps. His oldest boy was in an accident a couple of years ago when he was deployed and his wife was driving drunk, the kid lost his left leg and is having a hard time dealing with it. His younger son, ten I think, is having trouble too, I think between his older brother losing his leg, the mother being a drunk and then deserting the family, it’s almost like the kid is suffering from PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, what was called shell shocked). I know he came on like an asshole, and he deserved the dressing down he got, but you can see why he was unhappy.”

“Thanks Sergeant, Keener, take the sergeant and the other marines inside and park em in the lounge, order some pizza and get them a beer. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

“Yes Sir. You guys follow me.”

James called General Stanton again, talked to him for about five minutes, thanked him then hung up.

James walked over to the cab of the truck, and said; “Sergeant Babcock, come on down here.” The sergeant looked at James and climbed down from the cab of the truck.

“Yes Sir, I guess I fucked up”

“Yeah you did.” The sergeant flushed but didn’t say anything. “Wilson told me what you’re going through, you have my sympathy. I don’t know what to say to you other than I don’t think I could handle the situation any better than you have, but I do know that you need to get you’re shit together and get it together fast. If you don’t, you’re going to be out of the Corps, and then what, you think that’s going to help you or your boys. OK enough, let’s go inside, I got some pizza coming, and you look like you need a beer.”

“I’m sorry sir, a beer would be nice but I can’t drink any alcohol, least ways not till I get back to base.”

No problem, I asked the General to let me keep you guys here till at least tomorrow, so your standing down for tonight.”

“Sir I can’t do that, I got to get back, my kid’s babysitter expects me by 17:00 and I can’t, I won’t leave them over night by themselves.”

“Sergeant Babcock, you’re about to become, probably, the first Staff Sergeant in the history of the Corps to have a three star general as your baby sitter. General Stanton told me that he and his wife would go over and pick up your kids and keep them at his quarters until you returned. So don’t worry about them, besides the general and his wife, his twin boys will watch out for your boys, they’re in good hands.

The Staff Sergeant let James lead him inside, in a daze, not really understanding what was going on but not arguing any more. Once inside, Babcock sat in a chair as far away as he could get from the other three marines in uniform and Keener who was in blue jeans and a long sleeved wool shirt. James sat in a chair near him and spoke to him softly; “Listen Sergeant, what’s your first name?”

The sergeant looked at him and said in a low voice, “George Sir.”

“Listen George, you need to start calming down, I know it’s easy for me to say, but that doesn’t make it any less true. You need to get things in their proper perspective, start getting rid of the anger you’re feeling. That guy over there talking to your men lost his lover last year, murdered. He had just got out of the hospital and they were deeply in love, when his love was shattered by a bunch of skin heads who beat his lover to death in an alley by the U-Dub. He just received a purple heart and a Bronze Star last week and three months ago he saved my brother Matt from being beaten, maybe killed by four rednecks in a bar. General Stanton just today promoted him to Staff Sergeant so that he could better do his job, his job is to help me and Matt train a group of boys, a group of boys who up till last summer had nothing going for them and little to look forward to. What I’m trying to say is ‘COOL YOUR JETS, and get your shit together or you won’t be long in the Corps.”

Babcock looked at James, for the first time he realized that James spoke the truth, that he was right about him getting his shit together or the least he could look forward to was losing a stripe, or worse getting kicked out of the Corps. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know where to start; he did know that he had to do something. Ever since his wife deserted him, he felt scared, lonely and abandoned. He couldn’t sleep, his work had suffered and he knew it but couldn’t do anything about it.

Looking at the civilian sitting across from him, the one who finally called him on being an asshole and did so with just a short telephone call, with no shouting or threats. He looked at James for a moment; “Mr. Batman, I am truly sorry, I …. I ….”

“You fucked up, now forget about it, get on with your life, do it for your kids, do it for your self.”

Just then the gate alarm sounded, Keener got up and went to the security panel that Matt had put in the lounge a couple month's ago, and saw that it was the pizza. He opened the gate and headed to the front door. A few minutes later Keener called everyone to the kitchen to eat.

Sitting around the table, Babcock said; “I’m sorry, I apologize to all of you for being such an asshole. Wilson, Deeton, Brandt, I know now what a shithead I’ve been, I am truly sorry for treating you like I have. Mr. Bateman, Sergeant Webb please forgive me for my attitude and the unprofessionalism that I displayed earlier.”

Sergeant Wilson looked at Babcock; “Aww forget it George, you always were an asshole, we understood what you were going through and we figured we could live with you until you went back to being just an asshole instead of a super asshole.”

The other marines just nodded their heads and laughed at what Wilson had just said. Babcock got a startled look on his face and after a couple of seconds started laughing too.