Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Purple (11/05/09)
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TITLE: Purple heart | Previous Challenge Entry
By Graham Starling
11/11/09 -
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The eulogy is short and filled with familiar words; clichés intended to comfort, but so well used that they’re worn out and ineffectual. I place a hand on Kaitlin’s shoulder, her delicate features grown so old this past week, and we watch the coffin descend to the haunting strains of the Last Post. Kaitlin stares at the ornate wood with an intensity born of the despair I know she feels. This “box” is the last thing she will ever see of her daddy.
A young marine steps forward; a steely determination holding his fresh young features rigid. He hands me a tightly folded flag and salutes with mechanical precision.
Now the moment I’ve been dreading – Danny’s friends lining up to pay their respects. I find myself resenting their vitality. Why should they be alive while I bury a coffin weighed down with rocks, because there wasn’t enough left of my Danny to fill it?
Last night I heard them talking to Danny’s brother when they thought I couldn’t hear, telling him of the patrol and some infernal thing called a proximity mine; a device designed to wait until it senses people walking past before throwing itself high above the ground and blasting pieces of twisted metal in every direction. Danny had somehow managed to leap after it and wrap himself around it. It exploded before he reached the ground tearing him to shreds.
Somehow I manage to raise my head and look into the eyes of the men my husband had saved. Eyes glistening with unshed tears reflecting the guilt they all feel at being alive. Something snaps inside and I’m crying silently, copiously, enough for all of us. I don’t hate them any more. You don’t fall in love with part of a person, and the sense of duty and honour that moved Danny to act was as much a part of the man I loved as anything else. If he hadn’t acted in that split second, he wouldn’t have been the man I’d married. Danny cared about these men enough to give up his life for them. How could I hate them?
A touch, a word, a hug, they all share something of their pain and move on. Last of all comes an officer; a colonel somebody or other. My mind is too distracted, this whole day passing in too much of a daze, I forget his name almost the moment he utters it. He offers some mumbled words about a brave soldier and grateful nation then hands me a flat case and offers an unpractised salute.
I don’t need to open the case. Inside is a purple ribbon and piece of lacquered metal. Ironic that, even though they couldn’t bring back his body, the army still managed somehow to give me back his heart.
Danny earned this in the fraction of the moment that exists between thinking and acting. Kaitlin and I will earn it every day now for the rest of our lives. Because that’s what courage is, isn’t it? Doing what you don’t want to, giving up what is most precious to you for the sake of those you love.
Kaitlin and I walk back towards the car, her small hand in mine. I glance up at a painted figure, familiar and grotesque in the torture it depicts. Blood runs down from a thorn-pierced brow, from wounded hands, feet and side. Somehow the wooden eyes reflect the anguish I feel and for the first time I begin to understand…
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Most poignant story and crushingly accurate. If it applies to you, my sincere and deep condolences. If not, the same for anyone who has lost a loved one during a war...
A precious ending, the connection of your grief and that of our Lord's. Shalom
I didn't comment before the judging as we're asked to keep things anonymous.