WOOT! FINALLY FINISHED THIS STORY! It was originally for a contest for Kaprika art, but it got cancelled so I decided to type it up anyway. I REALLY like it and now I can continue writing my "book" It's the End of the World as we Know It. I know of one curse word that I censored out, but I can't remember any more so if there are anymore, I'm sorry. Feel free to critique and comment 
Untitled, and Unending*To our veterans, and those who have given the ultimate sacrifice in the line of duty. As well as those who have chosen and continue to serve.*
The florescent lights give off their distinctive buzz in the Virginia Veterans Hospital as a tall canine approaches the receptionist's desk. The six foot tall German Shepard is dressed in U.S. Air Force "Class A" Blues with a nearly immaculate jacket. On his each of his shoulders there are two silver circles, denoting that he was a simple Cadet First Lieutenant. A set of silver pilot's wings perched above an impressive amount of colorful ribbons on his left side, and a small name tag on his right that read,
CIVIL AIR PATROL
UNITED STATES AIR FORCE AUXILLARY
WOODRUFF
Woodruff removes his hat and tucks it under his right arm, asking for a Lieutenant Colonel Jacob Grey. The nurse left and asks him to wait there. He looks at his watch impatiently, obviously not wanting to be there. He needed it for his next promotion though. It was a simple requirement, "Interview a veteran," that was all for the next rank of Cadet Captain, and a sweet enlistment bonus once he turned eighteen and joined the Marines.
The vixen nurse soon returns and beckons for Woodruff to follow her. It was a short walk through the bleak, room-lined hallway to Jacob Grey's room, but the mood is even more somber as Woodruff hears the moans and cries of those who were now unable to help themselves.
The nurse leads him to a door, slightly ajar and again asks him to wait.
Woodruff again looks at his watch, then starts to look around the bland hallway, his eyes eventually falling upon Grey's information plate affixed to the wall to the right of the door. It merely listed the general statistics of the room's sole occupant:
Name: Jacob Grey
Rank: Lt. Col., USAF Ret.
Species: Canine (Siberian Husky)
Age: 58 years
Remarks: FV, VI
The fox reappears and leads Woodruff inside. The aged Husky sat in an office chair, back to the door, messing with a deck of cards as he stared into infinity. His once jet black markings characteristic of a Husky were now faded into grey, almost blending in with his white fur. The red fox places her hand on his shoulder, causing Grey to jolt and break his stare, and says, "Riley Woodruff is here to see you sir."
"Thank you, that will be all." Jacob said in a low, nearly rasping voice, while stuffing the cards back into their paper case.
The vixen leaves, quietly closing the door behind her, and Grey then immediately stands up. He's wearing his old, faded camouflage pants with the ankles tucked into spit-shined boots as well as a black, tucked in t-shirt.
He spins around and moves so that he is face-to-face with the younger German Shepard.
"Who are you why the hell are you here? As you can see I'm VERY busy." the Husky snarls up at the slightly taller seventeen year old, making the last part of his statement drip with sarcasm.
"I'm Cadet First Lieutenant Riley Woodruff, from the 169th Cadet Squadron. I need your help for my next promotion to Cadet Captain and get a nice enlistment bonus with the Marines. I thought my commander had already arranged all of this with you," Riley explains, confused.
"Huh," The husky replies acting surprised, "Did we really arrange all of this?"
"Yes," Riley retorts, growing impatient, "We did. Can we get this over with."
"Ya, ya. You need to slow down kid, you've got plenty of life in ya still." Jacob says calmly as he goes and sits in a chair in the corner, "Besides, I already know you're enlisting for the wring reasons."
"Oh really?" Riley folds his arms, skeptical of the old dog, "Then what are my reasons?"
"I don't need to know your reasons, I've seen It plenty of times before. Kids think that if they excel in a cadet program like CAP or JROTC they would be the best thing since sliced bread in an actual service. You want just that; to be the gung-ho tough guy Marine on the recruiting posters... Those guys always end up being jerks anyway."
"Y-You don't know what you're talking about old man," Riley stammers, flustered, "I'm enlisting to serve my country."
Jacob laughs at Riley, "You don't know what serving your country is, not until you've done it, now sit and listen to an old hound tell a few stories."
"Y-You're full of it, I'm out of here." the flustered German Shepard turns to leave, ears lowered and growling under his breath, and starts walking toward the door.
"Fine, just leave." The old Husky calls after Riley, "It just shows how true you are to the core values."
"What'd you say?"
"Integrity, Excellence, and Respect; I don't think you're being too respectful of you elders," Grey grins as he slouches in the large, comfy chair.
That causes Riley to stop dead in his tracks, his paw on the doorknob. "Again, what did you just say?"
"They just don't make cadets like they used to," Jacob's grin fades as his visage drifts off, "Can't show respect and can't even hear anymore."
Annoyed, Woodruff started to growl softly as he replies, "I'll have you know that I'm the best cadet in my squadron, and possibly in my entire state. Who are you to judge the quality of cadets?"
Jacob chuckles at Woodruff's attempt at rebuttal, "Typical Pilot bravado, give a kid a pair of shiny silver wings and watch his ego fly. I was a lot like you when I was your age, a young cadet with silver wings on his breast and my head in the clouds. I was young and chose my career over my personal life, and I've done some things I regret. I don't want you to suffer like I have, so sit down and show your elder some respect."
The young German Shepard pauses and quickly reflects on how he has recently conducted himself, "Sorry, sir. Please, let's hear it."
"Don't worry kid, you won't be late for your "Date", even if it is with your own mother."
They both chuckle as Riley sits in a chair next to the foot of the bed as Jacob sits and swivels in his desk chair.
"I was once a young Cadet First Lieutenant with a brand new set of silver wings, I was just about to turn eighteen and the Vietnam was in it's final years and I was looking at the different services before I got drafted. I chose the Marines, went to basic, and excelled in it because of my prior experience as a Cadet. Then I was sent to that
[omitted word] place called Vietnam. It was about 1971 and we were pulling out of that God-forsaken place, but the Marines were still taking a pounding. I was just a simple private, stuffed in the back of a dark plane with 79 others like me, loaded down with gear and parachutes. It was nearly pitch dark until the rear door opened. Then we saw Hell. Tracer rounds zipped through the metal with a terrible sound that can't be described with simple words. the jumpmaster literally had to kick some poor souls out, since they were paralyzed by the sheer terror of the anti-air weapons.
My step-brother, Rob Grey, was on that same mission. He'd been in the Corps for a year longer than I had, so he was a Sergeant by then. He was about my height, but he was a Grey American Shorthair Cat, a rather feisty one, never to decline a challenge. He'd gone through hundreds of jumps, cheating death, but when the platoon reached the rendezvous point, he was nowhere to be found. I never thought we would have lost him on this jump. Last time I spoke to him was before we boarded the planes. 'Give 'em hell bro.' Those were his last words to me. He's still officially Missing In Action, but to me he's dead, no way he would have survived." Grey pauses, unsuccessfully trying to hold back his tears.
By now Riley sat, transfixed by the old canine's story. The German Shepard takes advantage of the pause, asking with a soft, careful voice, "Well... I'm sorry that you had to lose him. I feel your pain."
"You could never feel the pain that I experienced," the husky snaps at him, "I don't even know what happened to him. I live every day wondering what happened to him..." Jacob still struggles ho hold back his tears, matting down the fur on his face while he growled to himself about his lack of self control.
Uncomfortable, Woodruff tries to change the subject, "So what happened during the rest of your tour?"
Grey then darkly chuckles, "The rest of my tour? Heh, that's the only mission when I was in 'Nam, we left before anything got interesting."
"You could say that the first mission was the best and the worst then." Wiley says with the best of intentions, trying to lighten the mood.
Grey then stares at Riley, his ears back, as if he's trying to look into his soul.
"I try not to think of that mission. It was a living hell. The best part was probably the end. I lost the closest thing I had to a brother at the onset. I wanted to kill those sons-of-bitches for my brother. They weren't people, they were demons. Devils in furry's clothing. I was so vengeful, and I'm not proud of the fact that I had the highest kill count in the squad during that mission. Sometimes it would be bloody, hand to hand fighting. Oh! The blood. I remember how sweet the taste of revenge was and how it appealed to my primordial instincts. How the blood splattered on me as I stabbed. The mangled bodies from the broken limbs, jaws and necks. It was defurrytizing."
Confused, Woodruff interjects, "Defurrytizing?"
"Hopefully, you'll never feel the anger and hatred I had at that time. With all that hatred you lose the traits that make you furry. Too much hated could turn you feral, only following the instincts that come natural. Defurrytizing makes you feral. It can also be applied to your enemies, like I did on that one mission. They weren't furries anymore to me, they were demon, feral, creatures. It just made it easier to kill them. I was no better then a common animal..."
"Quite... interesting," Woodruff sighs, sensing Grey's fragility toward the mission, "So what did you do after getting home from Vietnam?"
"Well, I stayed in the Marines for 3 more years and eventually made Sergeant. I eventually transferred to the Air Force, unwilling to pursue hand-to-hand combat again. I quickly became a Master Sergeant and a Jumpmaster in the back of a C-130 Hercules. I was training Marines to jump and not kill themselves.
There was this one Marine, he reminded me so much of my big brother, except his fur was slightly darker shade of grey. He was scared shitless to jump out the plane."
Grey chuckles, reminiscing on the cat instead of the somberness of the mission.
"I remember one time I planted his foot on his
[other word for donkey] and kicked him out the door because he froze. That poor cat. But he hung on through the full course and got his jump wings. With a little help from me, he became an instructor and we became the best of friends, one of the only few I had because of my introverted nature. Hell, he was even called 'Robbie' by the other instructors, painfully reminding me of my brother every day and sometimes I saw Robbie as my brother, to the point were I called him Rob. I was then selected for officer's school in '83, when I was 30 and a Chief Master Sergeant, the highest an enlisted person can go. I shipped off to the school and left Robbie behind. We tried to keep in touch but the last I heard from him was after officer's school. Then it was like he completely disappeared. I never heard from him again, and even looking back into the records of the Jump School, there was no mention of Robbie. So I thought that he was probably sent on one of those missions where you completely disappear if you're captured, and naturally I think he's dead. Most of my close friends end up dying sometime..."
Grey sighs and starts to stare off into nothing, "Shortly after finding Robbie's disappearance, I realized this. By now I had just got out of officer's school, still depressed about my realization. I was at a bar one night and ordered a single shot of whiskey, as I sat on that barstool staring into the amber liquid, I thought over my life. It was quite depressing actually. Then this Arctic wolf approached me asking for a ride home. At first I didn't hear her, because of the new pilots, drunk off their rockers, were being so loud, but she eventually fell against me. She stood back up and explained her situation to me and I drove her to her home. I hadn't even touched a drop of the whiskey I ordered.
Her house was a ways away so we had plenty of time to talk. The more we talked, the more I started to like the girl. Her body might have helped a little bit too, but I dropped her off at her door, got her name and number and promised I'd call her."
Grey smiles at the memory, "At 31 I thought I'd never find love. But a few dates later we made it work. Her name was Kellie, she had an excellent body, wonderful figure. We were perfect for each other, and we got married soon after I finished pilot's training. I had volunteered to fly the C-130, due to my prior experience as a jumpmaster.
I flew in peacetime missions, nothing big, not moving around much, settling in with my wife."
"It seems like you were happy with her, what happened? You should be living out your retirement with her somewhere in the suburbs."
Grey's smile widens, "We had that once, a house and a yard. Could never have kids though.
Then the Gulf started heating up. I took my first six month tour and Kellie couldn't stand it, being separated like that, living off of the letters and sparse phone calls I sent her. After that first tour I came home and she told me that if I ever left again she would leave me.
Thankfully the situation seemed to be solving itself, but then it got worse."
Post Merge: June 11, 2011, 12:55:28 AM
Part 2:
Post Merge: June 11, 2011, 12:58:19 AM
Can someone please post something so I can post the rest of the story?
Topic: Poetry and Prose (Read 1442 times)