part0026

In the meantime, things just kept getting better and better. The Kings received notice from the county that they had to clean out the drainage ditch beside the long road or the county would do it for them.

The cost would be twenty-five dollars per foot. Since their frontage was just about one mile long the cost would be about thirteen thousand dollars, or amortized in their property taxes for ten years it would increase their taxes by thirteen hundred dollars a year.

Or they could hire someone to dig it out for them or do it themselves. Rick checked and found that the outside cost would be almost the same, except it would be due to half up front and the rest on completion.

Or he could buy a used John Deere 2013 model 60G mini-excavator from Jack Nelson for fifteen thousand. The job would almost pay for it, and they would have it for future use, what could be better?

Rick made up a small presentation of his homework to Marsha.

She just about floored him when she asked, “What would a new one cost? That way, you wouldn’t have to worry about any hidden problems.”

It just so happened that Rick had that information. One should be prepared .

“We can get a comparable model-new, for thirty thousand; they have gone up a lot in the last ten years.”

“I still think you should buy a new one.”

“Yes dear,” Rick rushed to reply.

Marsha started laughing at him, “I knew this was coming ever since you said you wanted one, even though you didn’t know what you would use it for. I have had a lot of time to think, new or used. It probably will need a heavier trailer to haul it. Then the question is will your truck pull the weight? I bet Jack has that International still sitting on his lot, you better check all that out. Don’t want to underbuy.”

To say the least, Rick was flabbergasted, “What have you done with Marsha,” he asked?

It was her turn to laugh. “You have let me build the new house exactly how I have wanted, that is in the millions. Your equipment will not come to a quarter million, and it’s not as though we don’t have the money. Besides, I love you.”

Rick hugged Marsha and replied the same, “I love you too, dear.”

The next morning Rick was up early. He asked Marsha if she wanted to go with him to see Jack Nelson. She declined, saying she wanted to go through her boxes from Burns & Burns. Rick asked her to take a look in his while she was at it, he hadn’t any idea what might be there.

Rick didn’t break the sound barrier on his way to Nelson’s, but he did speed. Lucky for him the State Patrol was elsewhere. While Jack Nelson wanted to be neighborly and talk to who was rapidly becoming his best customer, Rick wanted to get the deal done. You would think that he was afraid Marsha might change her mind.

Rick’s worries were for naught. She didn’t call or come walking through the door. It was arranged to deliver his new truck, with a trailer and excavator, in two weeks. The delay was getting a new excavator delivered to Nelsons.

When Rick got home, Marsha was waiting for him but the subject wasn’t his newly purchased toys, er, construction equipment needed for important projects on the farm.

“Rick, I didn’t know that I was married to a hero,” Marsha stated.

“Huh?” was Rick’s brilliant reply.

“Your box from Burns and Burns contains the usual documents one collects throughout their lives. Your baptismal certificate, birth certificate, five expired passports, and your high school diploma are here. What are interesting are your Army records and medals. I didn’t know what they all meant so I looked them up on the Internet. ”

“They were so impressive that I also did a search for Viet Nam and Rick King. I found out that you were one of the most decorated soldiers of that war. Your ending rank of Command Sergeant Major was the highest enlisted rank. I think that qualifies you as a hero.”

“Marsha, all that happened a long time ago. Like everyone else, I was doing my job. I did long-range patrols for most of that. It put me in interesting situations at the wrong time and places. Most of it was spent running for my life and trying to keep my squad alive.”

“Put it another way I was unlucky to be there, and those that lived were very lucky. The flashbacks have lessened over time, but I do remember the real heroes. The rank was what they gave me when they didn’t know what else to do with me.”

“Somehow, I think there is much more to the story than you are telling me. The only thing that matters is I now know that my man will take care of me to the best of his ability, and that ability is very impressive.”

“Most husbands would do that.”

“Yes, but you would do it better than most. Now I understand how you could handle that punk kid in Baltimore and robber in Chattanooga.”

“Hitting people in the stomach isn’t the stuff of heroes! ”

“Having the reflexes and will to take those actions at the right time says a lot. However, I have just started to embarrass you, now let’s look at all the pictures that were in the boxes. You were cute as a child.”

“Oh God, will those pictures never go away?” Rick moaned.

That little trip down memory lane got Rick thinking about the old days. Not the fighting in Vietnam; that didn’t need to be remembered. He thought about how young and dumb he was in 1953 when he first joined. The army was a different place then.

His trainers were blooded in World War II and re-blooded in Korea. There was no such thing as political correctness or worrying about his self-image. The only worry his instructors had was how to keep these dumb fucks alive long enough to learn.

He had to know his equipment inside and out. It wasn’t high-tech and he would have laughed himself silly if he had to carry any battery’s other than D cells for his flashlight. The M-1 he carried was a World War II leftover, and it shot just fine.

Later, when the fighting did start they introduced the M-16. It jammed a lot and was a bitch to keep clean. For a year, he forgot to carry it; instead, he used a Winchester Model 12 shotgun .

This shotgun didn’t have a trigger dis-connector so you could fire its six shells as fast as you could pump the action. Man could he pump that action when scared in combat.

A counseling session in training would be a trip behind the barracks. The army hadn’t gone to a professional model yet, so there were many of life’s misfits; bitter, scarred, drunken misfits. Rick learned very quickly to not get in a fight with these people. They killed many times and didn’t really see a reason not to do so again.

Kipling understood these men. Before his career was finished Rick also understood them, and thanked God that he never became one. It was close several times.

By the time the first troops went into Vietnam on a combat basis, Rick was as prepared as anyone could be. At least, he thought he was, as a young sergeant he thought he would have plenty of support. Then the draft got serious.

He had officers and troops that had been civilians ninety days previously. President Johnson prevented the call-up of experienced NCO’s from the Army Reserve and National Guard units. He thought he would be a junior NCO being trained, instead, he was the trainer. It didn’t take long to become a Staff Sergeant.

Fighting the enemy at times seemed to be easy; at least, you could shoot them! How he managed to keep the drugs to a dull roar and his green as grass second lieutenants from being fragged he never knew, but he did it.

Since they were doing long-range patrols, the unit lost men, but not on his watch. This was because of training, attention to detail, leadership (Rick hated to admit it, but he had been a good leader), and a butt load of luck. Anyone who had been in combat knew there was no answer to why him, why not me?

That luck expressed itself in several ways for Rick. While dinged up enough to rate Purple Hearts he had no disabilities. While he had seen people dismembered and mangled it didn’t live with him. Most of all he didn’t become one of those embittered soldiers who had no respect for themselves or life. He had been tested in the fire, and the slag burned away, but he remained strong.

That was probably why after the war in 1976, he was called to his commander’s office at Fort Campbell. He was introduced to a one-star general whose name was Robert King. His commander a two-star named James Craig had his top kick set them up in a conference room.

When they were alone General King took off his jacket and took a sip of the coffee that had been provided.

“First of all, I would like to say Hello, cousin.”

This really puzzled Rick because he didn’t have many cousins, and he thought he knew them all .

The look on his face must have reflected that because the General laughed. “Third cousin four times removed that is, let me start by saying you have permission to speak freely.”

This really confused Rick, he had heard of second and even third cousins but a third cousin four times removed?

“How do you figure that, Sir?”

“I didn’t. A genealogist with the Society of Cincinnatus did,” replied the General.

“We are both direct descendants of Rufus King. He was a signer of the Constitution of the United States. Most people think full members of the Order of Cincinnatus are all direct descendants of George Washington’s officers. He and his direct descendants were elected as honorary members.”

“Like the descendants of Washington’s officer’s only one member of the family who is a serving officer can be an active member of the Society at a time.”

“I have heard of the Society,” said Rick, “but I really don’t know what it is or what it does.”

“Simply put after the Revolution, Washington’s officer’s wanted to make him King. This would also put them in line for Noble titles. He forestalled this by creating the Society of Cincinnatus .

Cincinnatus was a Roman general who won the war then went back to his farm rather than be Emperor. How he sold that idea I have no idea, but he did.”

“That probably was a pivotal moment in American history as any, but it is very little known. It is probably what set in place the loyalty of the military to the Constitution and not any party. One of the most notable achievements of the Society is its lobbying and getting reasonable retirement benefits for the military.”

“Today I am here on another mission. You know as well as anyone that the Army is a huge mess. The public thinks the Army lost in Vietnam. We know that it was the Politicians who walked away due to public opinion.”

“There is even the thought in some circles that public opinion was swayed by useful tools of the KGB. Only history will answer that one. The troops we have left are the dregs of the draftees. This is worse than the aftermath of most wars. You saw what was left after World War II and Korea, how would you rate the current troops against those?”

Rick thought for a moment, where the hell is he going? Well, he had permission to speak freely.

“Sir, those left after Korea met Kipling’s description of Tommie’s. These meet Wellington’s definitions.”

The General chuckled, “Well said. ”

“That brings us to the point of this meeting. Army Command recognizes this problem. The Army will be reorganized in the next decade; we have to rebuild it almost from scratch. The chain of command will have new layers built-in. Things are simply too big as they are. We are also moving from a draft to an all-volunteer force. You saw the mess we were in for trained NCOs when Nam first started.”

The General continued, “While never official the Army does use the resources of the Society. They asked them to find descendants of Washington’s officers in the ranks. It is felt that they would be loyal to the bone. Once a list was built records were reviewed. Your name came up. That is why I was selected to approach you.”

“We need people like you to start up a Noncommissioned Officers Education System, later there will be an advanced version and there is even talk of a Sergeant Majors Academy. Would you be interested? The only possible downside is that we would ask for a full thirty-year enlistment.”

“I had planned on that anyway,” said Rick, “I have twenty-three in right now. Yes, I would be very interested in NCO training.”

At this, the General stood up and held out his hand, he had made the sale ,

“Your new orders will be cut immediately, Congratulations Sergeant Major King.”

A very startled Rick King was able to pull himself together, shake hands, and salute the General.

“Thank you, Sir, and this promotion is more than I thought would ever happen.”

“Here is my card cousin, if you ever need to talk you have permission to speak freely as a family member, just don’t expect me to solve your problems. I don’t think I would make a good NCO.”

“Yes Sir and Thank You, Sir, we people who work for a living are used to solving our own problems.”

Both Rick and Robert cracked up at this time-honored NCO statement; it probably was considered an old saying in the Roman army.

As Rick flashed through those old memories, his thoughts were on how strong he was in those days, not only physically but mentally. Now, he was old and worn out. No sooner had he had that thought than he realized that it wasn’t true. While he was not forty-five anymore he did not feel his eighty-seven years, he was getting stronger every day. Where would it end?