HERO

HEROS 

   It’s my birthday today and my daughter gave me the most poignant gift. When I opened her little package and looked at the faded ribbon, I was flooded with emotion.  In fact, I’d have to say I’m probably the luckiest man in the world.  

   They say God works in strange ways, and I guess that is true.  I can only say that I’m thankful to him, and a strange twist of fate; for most of my happiness today.  I guess the best thing to do would be to start at the beginning.

   John Connor was my friend, so it just seems right that I was there that day with him.  Heck, we served two tours together in Iraq. We were both just young kids all fired up from our Marine basic training. We were full of energy and bravado. To tell you the truth, we both thought we were invincible when we first got there.

   John was very much a quiet man, and for the most part a loner. He was an only child and had lost both parents in a horrible car crash.  In the end, I think he joined the service as much for the camaraderie as to serve his country.

       If there was any misconception about the duty we were about to serve, it became clear as soon as we arrived. The stark reality of the people, the country, and the war quickly changed our view point. We soon found out that the heat was oppressive and the terrain unforgiving. Things began happening rather quickly. We hadn’t been there for two days and were on our way to our assigned base when our Humvee was nearly destroyed by a roadside bomb.

  The intensity of the blast was like nothing I had ever witnessed before. The violent shock wave and scrap metal from the explosion nearly ripped our vehicle in half. Our driver and front seater were killed instantly. The force of the blast had thrown me clear of the now smoldering vehicle where I laid in a painful heap some 15 feet away.

  That day we were the lead truck in a small convoy and the minute the bomb went off, our disabled vehicle blocked the narrow road.  Within seconds an unseen enemy opened fire on the rest of our small group. I could see rounds kicking up dust only inches from my now broken body and buzzing by my ears.

   I thought I was a goner for sure lying there hurt and in a daze, fully exposed to the incoming fire.  Suddenly I felt myself being drug by my vest back across the road and behind the cover of our now disabled vehicle. John had risked his life in the middle of a vicious firefight and exposed himself to direct enemy fire to drag me to safety.

  Over the next 2 years I witnessed countless acts of bravery and compassion from the likes of John Conner. He was more than just a good soldier, John was my friend and a true hero.

  When we finished our tour and returned to the states we both promised to keep in touch, as so many returning servicemen often do. As time went by we both went on with our civilian lives and jobs and kept in touch at times by e-mail.

  I had been meaning to get hold of John and possibly get together, when I got an e-mail from the sergeant who had recruited both of us. The e-mail was brief. It seems John had been in an accident and had passed away. The short note included the date and time for his funeral. It seemed hard to believe that he could survive in a war zone, but be killed soon after returning to the safety of the United States.

  Determined to be there for my friend, I drove all night and made it to the funeral home just as the viewing was winding down. I was surprised to see that there were only a handful of people present to say their farewells to this giant of a man. I was greeted by our recruiter and two fellow Marines along with a young women and her 5 year old daughter.

   I sat patiently in the front row as the young women and her daughter looked down on John. Both the little girl and her mom were softly crying. I noticed the little girl’s right arm was heavily bandaged.  I waited until they said their farewells and they made their way to the back of the room.

   I quietly walked up to the coffin and looked down on my old friend. He laid there decked out in his dress uniform with ribbons and medals on his chest. At barely 30 years of age, he still looked robust and bigger than life. I bent over and put my hand on his shoulder and whispered  “John… We never forget our own…you are a true hero”….

   With that I removed one of the medals from his chest and clutched it in the palm of my hand. You see, it was the medal he received when he bravely saved my life under the worst of circumstances. There is no doubt that I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for his unselfish actions.

  With that the funeral director closed the coffin. The two marines from the color guard saluted and folded up the large American flag that had draped the coffin with great precision and ceremony. They then saluted me and handed me the now neatly folded flag. 

     I made my way to the back of the room to offer my condolences to the young women. “Hello, my name is Jason and I was a friend of Johns. We had served together when I was in the Marines.  I considered him a fine man and a real life hero.  Are you John’s girlfriend? ”

   She was obviously overcome with emotion and tears. She told me that although he lived in her building, she had just met John a few days ago. She was unaware of his distinguished military service, but she told me that he was a hero to her none the less.  She went on to explain in great detail, that while she was at work there was a terrible fire in their apartment building.  She had entrusted her young daughter to the care of a neighbor.

   That afternoon, she got off the bus as usual and began the short walk home.  As she walked back towards the apartment building her paced quickened. She realized that something was decidedly wrong.  Upon her return, she realized that her entire building was engulfed in smoke.

   Many of the neighbors were gathered on the lawn outside, some with obvious signs of smoke inhalation and burns. The scene was almost surreal as everything seemed to happen in slow motion. There were babies crying, neighbors moaning in pain, people praying, and families hugging each other out on the lawn.

      Everyone looked back at the building in disbelief and wondered if there was anyone else left trapped inside. Moments later John emerged from the smoking building choking and with serious burns on his lower extremities. In a frantic state of mind she tried to squeeze by him in an attempt to enter the building, even as a wall of intense heat pushed her back.  Despite being in a weakened state he managed to hold her back from the punishing wave of heat and flames that were now licking the entrance to the building. 

   She recalls screaming hysterically and telling John that she believed her daughter was still inside. Without a second of hesitation John pushed her back towards the lawn. He grabbed a blanket that was strewn on the sidewalk, and threw it over his head and shoulders. He looked me in the eyes as if to say don’t worry, and resolutely turned back towards the flames. Putting his head down he quickly closed the distance and ran back into the blazing building.  I’m still not sure how any man could will himself and his body, back into that type of punishment.

  Moments passed by that seemed like an eternity. The sound of sirens in the distance announced the arrival of the fire department. On lookers were shocked and amazed, they could feel the tremendous heat from the relative safety of the lawn.  It was incomprehensible that anyone could bring themselves to reenter the blistering inferno.  Everything seemed to move in slow motion as everyone outside collectively held their breath, just staring at the virtual oven that was once our front door.

   Just as the first fire truck pulled up a charred and blackened figure came crashing thru the door and charging down the front steps. John was almost unrecognizable with the blanket around his head and shoulders and his clothes melted to his body.  He collapsed on the sidewalk, as the firemen covered his smoldering body with a shower of water.  With his last once of strength he gently set down the wet bed spread on the sidewalk. My heart nearly sank as I realized he could not save my daughter, until I noticed a small arm, blistered and bleeding from the heat, protruding from under the blanket.

   The firemen attended to him and helped me unwrap that blanket. My heart leapt with joy as I found my daughter safe and largely unharmed inside. I held her in my arms while sobbing over the now lifeless body of this quiet and brave man that I barely knew.

  You see..John Conner saved my daughter’s life that day, at the cost of his own. He suffered severe burns over 80% of his body. Yes John was by all counts a hero. 

   I’ve been thru a lot a prided myself on keeping my emotions in check however I couldn’t help hugging them both and with tears in all of our eyes. I handed the women the folded American flag from the coffin. I then knelt down in front of the little girl and held both of her hands. She looked up at me thru her tears and melted my heart with the sweetest little smile. I told her to be brave and never forget him as I pressed John’s medal into her little hand.

  That was 3 years ago today, and I’ve been happily married to Laura for the last 2 years.

 John. Thank you for all that you were.  You both saved my life and helped bring me life’s greatest joys. There is no greater sacrifice that a man can make then to give his life for that of a friend.  John had more than lived up to the Marines code…..Semper Fi, my friend.

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