Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Lost Soul - The Ox - 3. Part 3
There are no warnings for this part, but keep those tissues handy.
Marty had got to know Ox well in Iraq, and with their renewed friendship they had become closer. The day Andy left for the barracks, he had sensed Ox’s discomfort. That was enough reason for Marty to try calling Ox several times a day. He needed to speak to his friend and find out what was troubling him. Since the call from Andy’s CO Ox hadn’t answered any calls and left them to go to his telephone answering machine, he didn’t want to speak to or see anyone.
Out of concern for his friend, Marty contacted the CO of Andy’s barracks to speak to him. With the relationship that existed between Andy and Ox, it seemed the natural thing to do. Nobody would give him any information. Eventually, through sheer persistence, he got through to the CO’s office. Even when he explained who he was and his connection with Ox and Andy, he still couldn’t get any information. Marty understood the reasoning as to why. It was army protocol. He didn’t like it but had to accept it. As a last-ditch effort, he contacted his ex-CO. After explaining the situation, he was promised they would contact Andy’s CO and get back to him as soon as possible. Sometimes it pays to maintain contacts.
Thursday afternoon that week, he received a call from his friend in his old unit and was given the news. Marty was naturally upset and shocked. He had to console his son Martin when he passed on the news. That evening the pub remained closed as father and son drove to Ox’s house.
******
Ox woke up from his drunken sleep just after eight o’clock that evening. The pounding on his door sounded like someone was breaking in. He slowly dragged himself from the sofa where he had been sleeping these last few nights and staggered to open the door, determined to beat whoever was there. As he opened the door, he drunkenly swung his fist to lash out and fell on to path outside.
“Dad, look at him. He’s completely out of it. What do we do?” Martin knelt beside Ox and tried to lift him, but the weight of the unresponsive drunken man was too much.
Marty went to help his son, “We’ll do whatever we have to. He needs us even if he doesn’t know it.”
With some difficulty, they lifted Ox and carried him into the house, placing him on the sofa he had been sleeping on. The house was a mess, several empty whisky bottles were lying on their side on the floor, and some had spilt the last of their contents on the carpet, leaving the house smelling of whisky. Half-eaten sausage rolls and a pork pie with one bite taken from it lay discarded on the coffee table. Ox’s clothing was stained and stunk of urine where he hadn’t made it to the toilet. The kitchen floor showed signs of Ox losing the contents of his stomach with no attempt to clean it up. All in all, both Ox and his house were in a very sorry state.
Marty was disgusted, not with Ox as he understood his pain, but with the army, particularly Andy’s CO, who was also Ox’s ex-CO. He immediately called his ex-CO, explaining the situation and expressing his feelings about Ox being left with no support. Marty asked for help. He was assured that help would be with them the following day and asked to do what he could until then.
“Okay son, we have our orders. Now, what say we try to get Ox cleaned up a bit? We can’t get him upstairs to his room, but we can try to make him more comfortable on the sofa. Then you get off home and I’ll stay here. Are you okay with that?” Marty was a bit cold in the way he spoke, but that was how he had learned to deal with a crisis.
“If you’re sure, I can stay here too if you need me.” Martin didn’t want to leave. He had grown fond of Ox and considered him family.
“You’re a good lad and a credit to your mother, she would be proud of you if she were still with us, but yes, I’m sure. One of us needs to be at the pub, and you’re the one our customers rely on.” Marty was also proud of his son. It showed in his words and the tone of his voice.
They stripped Ox of his rank dirty clothes, did their best to give him a bed bath and redressed him in fresh underwear and pj’s. It’s not easy when the man you are trying to help is sleeping drunk and a dead weight. After making Ox as comfortable as possible, Martin left for the pub, and Marty made himself comfortable in an armchair.
Thanks to Ox’s snoring and an armchair not being the most comfortable place to sleep, Marty had woken a few times through the night. Just before six in the morning, he gave up and went to make a pot of strong tea. After doing what little he could to tidy up the kitchen, he was sat at the Kitchen table with his second cup when he heard two cars pull up. When he looked out the window, he noticed that a Sergeant, a Corporal and two Lance Corporals get out of the first car. They were from Andy and Ox’s regiment and stood staring at the second car, chatting among themselves.
When a Corporal from Marty’s old regiment got out of the second car, the Sergeant's mouth went into overdrive. “I don’t know what you are doing here. This is nothing to do with you, so you can get back in that boneshaker and get back to where you came from. You are not needed here. We look after our own.”
On that, a second door of the second car flew open, and a Sergeant-Major jumped out. “You shut your mouth and do not speak to me or my Corporal like that. That is unless you are prepared to face the consequences.” The man's face was red with rage.
Both men started arguing, and it looked like it could come to blows. That was until the Corporal opened the rear door to his car, stood to attention and saluted. “Sir.”
When the Captain got out of the car, he saluted the Corporal. “Thank you, Corporal.” Then he addressed the arguing men. “Sergeant-Major, I understand your annoyance but do not disgrace yourself, your regiment or the uniform by behaving like that in public.” He then glared at the other man. “You, Sergeant, are already skating on thin ice with the way you greeted our arrival. Are you determined to make your position worse by arguing with a senior NCO?”
Both men stood to attention and saluted. “My apologies Sir. I was trying to explain to the Sergeant, that I have been assigned a task by my CO regardless of his objections. The CO expects a full and accurate report on my return to barracks.” The Sergeant Major was polite as he answered the Captain but still glared at the Sergeant.
“Very well, Sergeant Major, do not let it happen again in my presence, and I will let it go this time.” Then speaking to the Sergeant, the Captain asked. “And you Sergeant?”
The Sergeant looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. His reply was somewhat, strained. “With respect Sir, Major Oxley is of our regiment, as was Sergeant Lucy. Andy was a friend of mine. We are here to look after our own, and we do not need any help from either the SAS or the Medical Corps.”
The Captain was furious but kept his composure. “You say, ‘with respect’ Sergeant? I do not think you or your men know the meaning of the word respect. I am fully aware of your orders Sergeant, and I am also aware that none of you are volunteers. You were ordered to attend. I am also aware of the orders given to the Sergeant-Major, who did volunteer. If any of you had respect, Major Oxley would have had support as soon as he was given the bad news, not left abandoned. The Sergeant Major’s orders are to ensure that you carry out your orders and report his findings to your CO. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good, now remember I am the senior officer assigned to this duty, and as that ice, you are currently skating on is starting to crack, you are advised to remember that before you end up on a charge of insubordination. Is that clear, Sergeant?” The Captain may be from the Medical Corps but knew how to take control.
“Yes sir.”
“Heavens be praised. The Neanderthal understands. Now go carry out your duties and remember to follow orders from your superiors.” The Captain was looking up to the sky as he spoke.
Marty had made his way to the front door and watched, as the events took place, in front of him. He stepped to one side and struggled to stop laughing at the Sergeant as he and his men entered the house.
The Captain examined and advised Ox. Being aware of his previous injuries, he wanted to make sure that Ox was in good health. The Captain was happy with his physical health but was concerned for Ox’s mental health. He was grieving, not just for Andy, but also for the men he lost in Iraq. Being a nurse in the Medical Corps, the Corporal was assigned to remain with Ox for the next two weeks to give whatever support was needed. His orders came direct from the Captain.
During the clean-up, Marty had gone to check Andy’s room. With the layer of dust, it was obvious that Ox had not been in there. There was no doubt in Marty’s mind that it was because it was too painful. He could only imagine how he would feel if he lost Martin. It was the same type of relationship, that of father and son. He decided to tidy the room, and in doing so, he came across a journal under Andy’s pillows.
The journal told of Andy’s struggle to cope and of his addiction to drugs. Later entries told of how he avoided detection by doctoring reports when being tested for drugs at the barracks. Andy knew that he needed to stop the drugs and was getting help, being supported by Martin, who swore to secrecy. His last entry was the morning he left. Andy wrote that he had not used drugs for more than a week and was determined to remain clean. He wanted to be there for Ox. He knew Ox was still suffering and needed support. He felt that he had let Ox down. His last words were. ‘Ox has been more of a father to me than my own father. I have to be clean to give Ox the title he deserves and call him Dad.’
Holding back tears, Marty put the journal back for safekeeping. He intended to take it with him when he left for safekeeping. He felt it needed to be kept from Ox until he was strong enough to read it.
By the end of the day, the house was spotless, and everything was in its rightful place. Even Ox’s old dress uniform had been refreshed and pressed. He would be wearing it again soon for one last time.
This was intended to be the final part but it just developed to be more, so it's been split into two parts and made it a four part story instead of the three originally intended. I'll try to post it in about a week, it needs a bit of rewriting and polishing up so please bare with me.
Once again thank you for reading and the reactions left, especially to those who have taken time to leave comments as they are appreciated. If you haven't commented yet why not leave me some feedback? It's always appreciated, read and acknowledged, I'd enjoy reading what you think.
This has been written without the aid of a beta reader or editor as that how I've chosen to do it so any errors are all mine, if you spot any let me know and I'll try to correct them.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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