|
Gundam Wing is property of Sotsu Agency, Bandai Studios, and TV Asahi. Sainan no Kekka and all original characters and plot copyright 2000 by Quicksilver and Gerald Tarrant. Please ask permission before reposting. In memory of Justin Garvey, killed in action July 20, 2003. He was lucky enough to have a loving family, unlike James... but the ones left behind are still wondering why.
SAINAN NO KEKKA
When James told us he was going to enter the military, we were against it. There was no need, we tried to tell him, for him to go, since he was a smart boy who could easily do greater things with his life. The military was grunt work, and he had a brighter future than that ahead of him. The Keets family was known for its political brilliance, and we had an important place in the world. But he had it in his head that the military was where he could make a difference. We tried to tell him that soldiers were just the pawns of the powerful, that the real difference was made in the back rooms, but he was stubborn. He had to be in the thick of things. “Don’t you realize you could die?” I had thundered at him in our last face-to-face meeting, trying to express my concerns, but he had brushed that aside. We had never communicated especially well, but on that day, we spoke to each other for the last time. What I would give to take those words back. "To truly live, you must stand up for what you believe in," he told me back, his voice level and sweet compared to the fire and thunder I had unleashed. His even temper rarely frayed, not even in the worst of circumstances. How prophetic my words were. How foolish his were. I could have held him back a year, but he would have hated me. So instead, I signed the papers to let him go, and James went without speaking to me again. He and his sister kept in touch, but he and I... well, I assumed that when he finished his tour of duty, we could reconcile then. Maybe I was the foolish one. But there's always a tomorrow, isn't there? Or so we think. Even though we were at odds, I always watched the news. First thing in the morning, to last thing at night. I think all parents with children on active duty keep abreast of world events, praying that there will never be any sign of anything that would impinge on their child's well-being... And then I heard on the news that there's been an attack at Lake Victoria Base, where James was stationed.
Purpose of Initial Notification
The reporters speak in those serious voices, but I can tell they are excited. Oh, I can tell. ....Casualty reports are coming in, but no names have been released, pending family notification.... My wife trembles, but we let our daughter Ilene sleep, letting her have one last night of innocence. Inside of our hearts, we know. But we hope... The minutes tick by, and that's when you go from suicidal to euphoric. It's a joke, he survived, you tell yourself, while the next instant you're convinced he's dead. I couldn't bring myself to try to call, reasoning that the lines would be busy... Delaying the inevitable. As long as I didn't know, I could hope. There were so many things I had to do with him! James was only sixteen, too young to die. He wasn't old enough to drink, and he and I were still fighting! We had to reconcile, and I had to tell him the family secrets. I wait, smiling at my wife in reassurence as we watch the reports.... Casualty reports are still coming in... it appears the barracks where the trainees were sleeping were attacked by a terrorist... no confirmation on those dead... He wasn't a trainee, I tell myself. He was an instructor - maybe he was out, doing something. Surely he wasn't around when it all went to hell. The minutes turn into hours, and still I cannot get through. I call my military connections, and they tell me there is no word. They tell me I will have to wait... They tell me they will try to pull some strings, but everything is so confused.... Finally, there is a knock on the door. When I see the young lieutenant clutching the sheet of paper, and looking slightly afraid, I know what he is going to say before he can even open his mouth.
Purpose of Initial Notification (cont.)
The reporters come. Some are nice, actually. "I'm a father myself, and I can't begin to imagine what it would be like to lose a son," says one man, and his voice is soft and sympathetic. I know that he is just doing his job, but all I want to do is cry, find somewhere to lick my wounds, and then just cry again. But there is a human behind all these questions, and it brings comfort, a great difference from the ones who come with him. Do you still support the Federation? Do you still support its mission and military? the aggressive reporters ask, lights shining in their eyes as they dream of a scoop. It's all I can do not to snarl at them, push them back and claw at their eyes. My son is dead! I will never see him again! Of course I don't support these foolish games! I wanted to yell, but I hesitated, knowing that to do so would make a mockery of my son's death. James had died for something he believed in. He loved military life and the Federation, and if I was to turn on it, wouldn't that make him a fool? "I... I'm not sure," I said finally. My wife, though, was harsher. "The Gundams are dangerous!" she said. "Whoever is piloting them is clearly violating the articles of war - whoever heard of attacking soldiers barracks? He was asleep!" she cried. I wanted to cry for her, to explain guerilla tactics. I knew the Federation, knew the rot at its core. I wondered if it was worth fighting for. But if young men like James were going to be killed while they were asleep, simply because they believe.... I knew which side I wanted to be on. "I believe that no fight is ever necessary," I said softly. "The military is anachronistic." One of the reporters blinked at me. She barely looked older than James would have been, her hair pulled back in matching braids and her jeans somehow too casual... "So... your son died for nothing?" she asked. Her hands flew to her mouth as soon as the words leave; it is too late. They have been said. Oh, she was young. My wife trembled and shook with tears, and I knew that she was going to have a nervous breakdown. Did he die for nothing? How did I know? I never supported what he did in the first place.
There are many places where you can find help. Counseling, mental health, and religious services are available through on and off base sources. Financial assistance, legal assistance, and other material assistance are also available. Do not hesitate to seek outside help.
My wife managed to keep a grip on her sanity, through some miraculous means as those first few tortuous days went by. The funeral, the wake... the ceremonies and dedications in his honor... how they hurt. But she survived. Ilene, though, was the one who worried me. Our daughter had adored her older brother, but when she heard that he had been killed, she withdrew into herself. I didn't know what to do with her... so I left her alone. Ilene was still smiling. Her laughter rang through our empty house, piercing me to the core. I loved her... I wanted to keep my only child safe... But seeing her hurt. She had the same brown eyes as her brown, those eyes which saw through me and questioned everything I did. So I sent her to Cliffside. I sent her away. I don't think she understood. I had driven James to the military, trying to force him into my shoes, and Ilene needed a chance to explore the world in a sheltered environment. Cliffside would be safe from the politics that swirled around me like a hornets. One day, she would be able to come home, and we would be a family. I knew if I kept her with me, I would be burying another child. It turned out that sending her away led to the same fate. The day of the attacks on the Preventer's base, another lieutenant showed up on my doorstep, clutching a piece of paper... and this time my wife did break down. No parent should ever have to bury his children. There is no word for a childless parent. There is no word to express that agony. |