Keeping My Promise

Several days later, after the party her parents had thrown for her, I had to tell Emily that I had to go back to Iraq. I would be leaving in the morning. She was crying and holding on to me saying, "No . . no . . no. You have to stay with me. I need you. I want you more than anything I have ever wanted in my entire life. I can have daddy fix it so you don't have to go back."

"Emily," I replied. "When I entered the Marines I swore an oath . . . a solemn promise to serve and protect my country. What kind of man would I be if I went back on my word?"

The next morning I left. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do in my entire life. My last vision of Emily was seeing her sobbing in the arms of her mother and father.

********************

The trip back to Iraq was completely different than the one Emily and I had made just a few short weeks ago. No first class seats, no noisy excited service personnel happy to be going home. Just a military no-frills jet transport plane.

Just by looking at their faces you could tell the old-timers going back for another tour from the first-timers with that scared look of uncertainty in their eyes. With the exception of a few quiet conversations the trip was made in virtual silence.

Arriving late in the day I made my way to the Admin Offices to report my arrival.

"Gunnery Sergeant Steiger reporting back for duty," I stated to Colonel Jacobs.

He returned my salute and told me to take a seat in front of his desk.

"Word is you got shot up pretty badly in Germany escorting that young lady home. Hell of a thing, three and a half years in this sand pit without a scratch and then you almost check out in a supposedly safe place. Hell of a thing," he restated shaking his head.

"Go get settled in. There is a meeting for the entire command tomorrow morning at 0800."

As I got up to leave he stood, extended his hand to me and said. "Good to have you back Gunny. You've been missed."

Making my way to my old quarters I ran into Lieutenant Mitchell my squad's commander.

"Steiger, what the hell are you doing back here?" Lieutenant Mitchell asked me. "I would have thought you would have requested a reassignment after getting all shot up."

"No, Sir," I replied. "I signed on for this additional tour and I fully expect to complete it."

He just shook his head and said with a smile. "Welcome back. It's good to see your ugly face again. Do you know about the big briefing tomorrow?"

"Yes, Sir. The colonel told me about it when I reported in this afternoon."

"The word is that there are some big changes in the works. What they are I have no idea. I guess we'll find out in the morning." He responded.

"Now go get settled in and grab something to eat before they close the chow line down."

At 0800 the entire command gathered for the briefing. Our mission had been changed. US forces would no longer take the lead in the fight against ISIS. The Iraqi army would now assume that responsibility and we would back them up only if the need arose. Well, we would see about that given the past history of the Iraqi forces. Only time would tell.

About a month after I returned my snail mail finally caught up with me. I had over a half dozen letters from my mom and sisters and there were four from Emily.

My sisters' letters were full of news from home. Both had graduated and had gotten great jobs in their chosen fields. They missed me something fierce and prayed everyday for my safety.

Robin, the older of the two, wrote that she had a boyfriend and it was serious. She was expecting him to 'pop the question' any day. She told me her answer would be yes, but there would be no wedding until I was home safe and sound.

Mom's letters mostly concerned her new job and how rewarding it was, both financially and professionally. A common theme in all of them was her worry about my safety. In several of mom's letters she mentioned that she and Emily were frequently in contact with one another and that was all she would say.

Emily's letters on the other hand were something quite different. 'She missed me . . . she wanted me back home with her . . . was there anything she or her father could do to get me out of Iraq'.

I finally wrote back . . .

********************

Dear Emily,

This is an extremely difficult letter for me to write. I want you to know that I have thought long and hard on how to put my thoughts down on paper. I want you to understand one thing. I love you and I always will love you.

But that guy, Quentin, was right. You are far, far out of my league. I am just a plain kind of guy. No where near to being in your class. You deserve someone far better than me.

I want you to promise me something. I want you to go out and find someone who will love you and care about you just as much as I do.

Rick

********************

Ten days after I mailed the letter to Emily we got the word.

Our entire command was being withdrawn from Iraq within the next six months. We were going home. I thought about extending my tour with the new command replacing us but something my mother had told me hit home. She said after all the sacrifices I had made that it was time for me to think about myself.

That six months simply crawled by, each day seemed like a week. But finally we were relieved and I was going home.

So for the first time in almost four years spent in Iraq, I would being going home to stay. Armed with my Honorable Discharge and DD214 Form I applied for my G.I. Benefits to finish my education. After a total of six years in the Marines I was once more a civilian.

I only needed eight more courses, less than a year, to complete my Electrical Engineering Degree. Coupled with my grades from the on-line courses I had taken while in the Marines and with my SAT scores from high school. I applied for and was accepted to M.I.T. located in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

I had written to my mother and sisters telling them about the letter I sent to Emily. I asked them not to divulge my whereabouts to Emily. Mom didn't like it one bit and told me that in no uncertain terms but said she would respect my wishes.

The first semester went by quickly. My grades were good. All 'A's' and a 'B' in a class that no one had ever earned a grade higher that a 'C'. I was right on track to graduate at the end of the following semester. All I did was go to class and study.

A week before my last semester ended I was in the library trying to decipher a particularly difficult equation that I knew would appear on my last final exam. A large shadow loomed over me. I looked up to see George Samuelson standing right in front of me.

"You are a hard man to find Mr. Steiger. Took me almost a year to finally track you down." He stated.

"Did Emily pay you to find me?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Nope," he responded. "This was strictly a 'pro bono' job, completely off the books."

About that time I noticed we were attracting some dirty looks from those seated around us who were trying to study.

"We better take this outside," I said to him.

Gathering my books and notes we proceeded to leave the library. Stepping out of library I saw a Mercedes parked at the curb. Peter Thornton, Emily's father, was standing beside it.

"I thought you said you were doing this on your own?" I remarked shaking my head.

"I am," he answered. "But when I found you I just had to tell Mr. Thornton. I only told him. Not Emily. He wants to speak with you for a few minutes and I would greatly appreciated it if you would. Please, it will be well worth your time if you do."

George and I walked over the car. Peter Thornton extended his hand and said.

"Please Rick, give me a few minutes of your time. Let me talk with you. I have a lot I need to explain. Can we take a short walk? George will hold your things until we get back."

We walked through the quad and found a secluded

unoccupied bench upon which to sit. It was autumn and the Fall leaves were in their full glory. We sat and he turned to me.

"As you know Emily is my only child. Her mother and I had given up hope on ever having a child when to our surprise and utter delight we found ourselves pregnant. When Emily was born it was as if she was a gift from God."

"I admit we spoiled her something terrible. Whatever she wanted, she got. We never thought to say 'No' to her. Both her mom and now I realize that was the worst thing we could have ever done in raising her."

"When the man who was to escort her home from Germany didn't show up, that was my doing. Emily wanted to spend more time with you and asked me to engineer a scenario where you would be asked to complete the journey with her. To my everlasting shame I did so."

"When I heard about you being shot in Mannheim I realized just how much caving to Emily's wishes could result in a tragedy and destroy someone else's life."

"To her credit when she called me with the news of what had happened in Germany I believe she finally started to come to the realization of what she had caused. For the first time in her life she was forced to see the repercussions of her selfishness."

"When she asked if I could arrange to have you treated in Mannheim instead of the military hospital in Landstuhl. She knew that if you were in the military hospital her chances of being able to see you would disappear. So I arranged that as well."

"During all the days you were with us in Marblehead I witnessed a transformation in Emily. She was taking some small steps in changing her behavior from a spoiled self-centered girl into a responsible adult."

"When you left to return to active duty she was devastated. She was frantic. She implored me to do something to get you back to the States and back to her."

"When I told her I wouldn't do it. You made this mess, I told her, you have to fix it. She became severely depressed. That's when her nightmares began. Every night she had terrible dreams about you."

"In her dreams you did not survive the attack in Germany. Everyone blamed her for your death. Her nightmares were so intense we even had her undergo therapy. Nothing seemed to work."

"Then she received your letter telling her that she was far out of your league and wanting her to promise you that she would find someone far better than you to love her. Someone who would love her and care about her as much as you did."

"That really pushed her over the edge. The nightmares became worse. She rarely got a full night's sleep."

Pulling an envelope from his jacket pocket he handed it to me.

"She wrote you this letter the same day she received yours."

I took it from him and noticed the envelope was stamped 'UNDELIVERABLE RETURN TO SENDER'.

Opening it, I withdrew the folded letter from within and began to read. My eyes immediately became full of tears making it difficult to continue reading.

********************

My Dearest Rick

I have just finished reading your letter in which you asked me to make a promise to you. You want me to find someone to love me and care about me as much as you do.

I will not, I cannot, promise you that. I already have found someone to love and care for me. That person is YOU!

I have been a selfish and spoiled brat all my life, getting everything I ever desired, without regard to anything or anyone else. When you got shot in that railway station protecting me I began to realize just how screwed up I really was.

You were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for me . . . for me. What had I ever willingly sacrificed for anyone. In a word

. . . NOTHING . . . not one damn thing!

If you can find it in your heart to come back I make this solemn promise to you.

I promise to love you forever and ever . . . to stand by your side as my one and only true love until we grow old together and die. I love you so very much.

All my love forever,

Emily

********************

I folded the letter and returned it to its envelope. As I attempted to hand it back to Peter he held his hands up refusing to take it.

"No, it was written to you," he said. "It was meant for your eyes only."

"All I ask is that can you find it in your heart to go and see her."

"WOW!!" This a lot to process. I take the last of my final exams tomorrow. I will only promise you that I will think long and hard about this after I'm finished with the examination."

"That is all I can ask of you, Rick," he replied.

"If you do find it in your heart to see her, call this number," he said as he handed me a card. "It's George's private number. He'll come and get you."

Geez, just what I needed. A major distraction just before my last college exam. I really wanted to ace this test. Focus, Rick, focus. I told myself. Exam first then decide what to do about Emily.

But I couldn't help myself. All I could think about was Emily's letter. Did she really mean what she wrote? Did I have a chance to be happy with her? How would I know for sure?

So instead of studying that night my mind drifted back to those weeks we spent together in Germany.

********************

As Emily and I were walking through the Mannheim station to catch the Frankfurt train a crazed man with an automatic rifle came running toward us shouting 'Allahu Akbar . . Allahu Akbar'.

My combat training kicked in. I pushed Emily to the floor and covered her with my body. I was aware of bullets striking the pavement around the two of us. I never felt the two that struck me in my upper back and shoulder. As I rolled off of Emily I saw that German security had reached the scene and killed the man.

The last thing I remember, until I woke up sometime later, was asking Emily if she was okay.

I woke to the incessant beep . . . beep . . . beep of a heart rate monitor. Sitting in a chair, sleeping next to my bed, was Emily. It looked like she hadn't changed her clothes in days. She was covered in dried blood, my blood. She was holding my hand with our fingers intertwined.

I squeezed her hand ever so slightly and her eyes sprung open. For several moments we looked into each other's eyes without speaking.

"Oh my God, Rick!" she exclaimed. I was so scared. I thought you were going to die. The doctors told me that you did die, twice, on the operating table. Both times they were able to bring you back."

"How long have I been out of it?" I wanted to know.

"Two days," she answered. "I haven't left since you went into the emergency room. I just couldn't."

"I called your mother right after you went into surgery. We have been in constant contact ever since. Let me call her right now," she whispered.

Taking her cell phone from her lap she punched in a number.

"Barbara, it's Emily. He just woke up! He's going to be all right!" She exclaimed. "I'm passing the phone over to him so you can talk with each other."

Mom and I talked for almost ten minutes. Well, Mom talked, I should say she laughed and cried, for most of the time. She was so happy and relieved to hear my voice and to know I was going to recover.

After saying good-bye I handed Emily back her phone.

Looking at her I asked, "Barbara . . .? Emily . . .?"

"Yes. Your mom said it would be much easier to be on a first name basis rather than Mrs. Steiger or Ms Thornton. Too formal given the circumstances."

"Thank you, Emily. I'm sure my mother appreciates everything you have done. I know I do."

"Have you had any sleep in the past few days? Or a chance to clean up? I asked her.

"No. I didn't want to leave until I knew you were going to be okay." She answered. "I was so scared."

Looking down at the front of her dress, she said, "I guess I really need to go find someplace to stay and get cleaned up."

As she left she said she would return the next morning.

The next morning, before Emily returned to the hospital, I was visited by an Army Captain. He came to inquire about me. He told me I was being placed on indefinite leave to recover from my injuries by the Marines Corps.

My question for him was, "Why wasn't I transferred to the Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, the closest military facility?"

He had no answer for that simply stating that he was instructed to tell me that I was to be treated here if I asked.

Before I could pursue it any further Emily burst into the room and the topic was not brought up again.

********************

My recovery did not occur as quickly as I had hoped. Three days after I first woke up the doctors discovered some additional internal bleeding. It necessitated another surgery. That set me back for almost three weeks.

The second setback was a really bad infection at the site of one of the bullet wounds in my shoulder. It was handled by massive doses of antibiotics. That took sometime to clear up and it was an additional month before the doctors felt comfortable in releasing me.

Everyday of all those weeks Emily visited me. We spoke often about what had happened in my life as I grew up. She was not as forth coming in describing what had happened during her life.

Finally the day came when I was released from the hospital. Emily secured a car and driver to take us to the Frankfurt Airport telling me she didn't want to take the train. Too many bad memories.

When we were safely on our way she informed me that she would take me home first and then would make her own way home afterward.

I looked at her and simply said.

"NO. I made you a promise that I would see you safely back to your home and I fully intend to keep my word."

As she turned to look out of the window I caught just a glance of a smug look of satisfaction on her face.

When we arrived at the airport the driver dropped us off at the 'Squaire', a large area with restaurants and shops, where the Hilton Garden Inn Hotel was located.

Emily explained to me that since our original reservations had long since expired she had called ahead to secure a new one. She told me that there was only one room available so she had booked it.

Emily checked us in at the front desk and we went up to the room. I opened the door and followed her inside.

"Uh Oh. Looks like we have a problem." I remarked.

"There's only one bed. Well, I'll just sleep on the floor. It won't be the first time or, if you prefer, I'll spend the night in the lobby."

"You'll do neither, Rick. It's a king size bed. Plenty of room for the two of us. I promise not to attack you in the middle of the night. But that's a promise I may not be able to keep," she giggled.

The next morning Emily woke me up saying, "come on sleepy head. We have a plane to catch."

After showering and dressing we left the hotel for the short walk to Terminal One and the Lufthansa desk.

Emily had already made arrangements for our flight back to Boston/Logan so checking in was a snap especially since it appeared we were flying first class. I watched her slide her credit card across the counter to the agent and, without batting an eye, signed a receipt for over sixty-four hundred euros. With boarding passes in hand, we cleared the security check point and proceeded to the departure gate.

I looked at her, and raising an eyebrow, said.

"Really, Emily, really. First class?"

Flying home in first class with Emily just re-affirmed my earlier belief . . . . this woman was way, way out of my league. I mean two first class tickets probably set her back at least seven thousand dollars converting the euros to dollars in my heard. This girl spent money like there was no tomorrow. Yep, way out of my league.

Eight and half hours later we landed in Boston. After clearing passport control and customs we entered the arrival hall where Emily spotted someone she recognized.

Taking me by the hand she introduced me. "Rick, this George Samuelson, my dad's right hand man. George, this is Gunnery Sergeant Frederick Steiger the man who saved my life . . . twice."