Chapter Text
Lonely Days Are Gone (I’m Agoin’ Home)
“Give me a ticket for an aeroplane,
Ain't got time to take the fastest train.
Lonely days are gone. I'm agoin' home,
My baby just wrote me a letter.”
The Box Tops, “The Letter”
It’s been a kind of a bad day, to be honest.
Okay.
Well.
Actually, it’s been a terrible day. It had started off badly this morning and it only got worse from there. Seriously, from having to do pre-flight five times because there was always something not adding up between his check list and his CO’s it just went downhill, until they got to flying SAR into a heavy fire zone and MedEvac-ing a pinned down convoy of Marines and his boss’s girlfriend who’d hitched a ride with them back from her latest assignment.
So yeah, everyone thinks that he can’t stand her but they’re wrong. It’s true that he absolutely, wholly disapproves of two officers who are not even married to each other being indecent with each other, in a war zone but it’s not like he doesn’t like Cadman. In fact he thinks that she’s doing tremendous work, even if she likes to downplay it with calling it “just staged feel good stories about goofy Marines and nurses in orphanages, because the guys get all the good assignments” and she’s also quite a nice person when she isn’t trying to be a cynic once again.
No matter how much he thinks what Cadman and Lorne are doing is wrong, neither of them deserves to be hurt. And if he’s honest, it amazed him thoroughly how Lorne didn’t even seem to acknowledge that one of the injured soldiers that Meyers was treating in the back was his girlfriend. He’s not sure what he would have done, had he been in Lorne’s stead.
Anyway… it’s over now and all he needs to do is go back to his quarters, shower and curl up in his bed, hoping the war won’t follow him into the night. That has proven fruitless in the last five days but he’s not one to give up easily. So he drags himself back to the BOQ, up the steps to the second floor and… oh. Oh.
Thank God there’s no one here or he’d never hear the end of it. The grin on his face must look mighty stupid but he just can’t help it. Whenever there’s a letter with the sender Kassandra Wilson waiting for him, he automatically makes the face that Meyers at some point dubbed “the overenthusiastic puppy” and that probably would have made his call sign in some way if Sheppard hadn’t thought up the infernal “Squeaky” first.
Still grinning, he bends down to pick up the letter and walks over to his bed, sitting down while slicing open the envelope with his finger. He hasn’t gotten any letter from her in the entire past week and he knows that it’s silly because he met her only once before he shipped out to Vietnam but no matter how bad the day was, if he gets a letter from Kassandra, it never fails to turn out well in the end.
Well then… he can’t help it and before he starts reading it, he sniffs it, just for a moment. She never perfumes her letters, like other girls like to do with the letters to their soldiers but he could swear that he can still smell that wonderful flowery scent she wore on the day they met on the paper. It was a bitter cold day in early January but she still smelled like spring and that’s what he’ll always remember about that day.
Alright, that and the poisoned darts of well placed anti-war protest rhetoric she’d thrown at him the moment she opened her mouth for the first time. She’s special that way, his Kassandra.
Oh good God, when did that start?
He shakes his head and tries to concentrate on her letter, tries to shut out the sound of helicopters drifting over from the heliport and the nagging voice that keeps wondering how bad Lieutenant Cadman was really wounded. He squeezes his eyes shut and makes himself stop that before getting back to the letter.
Hello Soldier! (I have been informed that this is the proper way of greeting your soldier pen pal when writing to the front. I am also expected to incorporate kisses on the cheek or hugs or some such nonsense somewhere in this letter. However, my sources are mostly freshman students that have never left their hometowns before coming to Colorado College, so as of yet, I remain unconvinced of the truthfulness of those statements.)
At that, he has to grin. Of course she does. She might be a mere English lecturer at her alma mater, Colorado College, but she has a sharp, scientific mind – he’d never admit that to anyone and least of all her but he has a sneaking suspicion that she’s pretty much smarter than he – and she never takes anything at face value.
Except, of course, stupid Zoomie Lieutenants, sent to her school mere days before they ship out to war to do some community outreach. Good God, she’d really made him look bad when she’d asked about civilian casualties in the Vietnam war compared to civilian casualties in the last war in front of the entire assembly hall.
And then she’d shot him down pretty violently when he’d gone to her later, to apologize for his lack of information on the matter. As it turned out, an apology was the last thing she’d wanted from him, or any soldier at all.
Well, anyway, he’s got a letter to read.
How are you? I’ve been hearing a lot about “pushes” and “ambushes” and what not lately and I know that you’re not posted to any firebases or whatever they’re called but I know that you’re supposed be out there, flying around and rescuing people and well, a girl worries. Please tell me anything you are allowed to tell me, without any false regard for my “feminine sensitivities”.
She still claims not to be interested in any official government news or the correct use of military lingo but she’s still doing a pretty fine job of that and it nearly frightens him to think that she might do that for him somehow. It does sound conceited and selfish but… a man can dream, right?
Also, how’s your commanding officer? He seems to be a decent sort and I have to confess I have an insatiable thirst for gossip so, is he still going out with the temperamental WAC Lieutenant? I can’t imagine how that is supposed to work, being in a war zone and everything. Are the WACs even allowed to wear civilian clothing or make-up? I can’t imagine feeling (or looking) the least bit feminine in those ghastly green uniforms and I most certainly can’t imagine feeling attractive in them.
Ah, Kass, he wants to sigh. As if that is the biggest problem about a Major sleeping with a Lieutenant in a combat zone. Sometimes, for all her amazing brains, she’s a little bit naïve, showing that she’s just as much a country girl as he’s a country boy. There are no words to describe for how much that makes him smile, how much he loves that about her.
And speaking of Lieutenant Cadman… dammit, he’d been so resolved not to think about that. There had been men much more severely wounded on that flight. He’d tried not to look too closely, to concentrate on flying the chopper but he’d caught glimpses of blood dripping on the floor and he’d heard fragments of moaning and crying through the noise of the rotor blades and once again he’d wondered how Lorne and Meyers and McPherson could just go on and do their jobs, seeming to be wholly unimpressed by the suffering around them.
But yeah, as soon as they’d unloaded the patients and they’d been wheeled towards 3rd Army Field Hospital, he’d forgotten about them, as he’s trying to do with all their patients. Except, well, Laura Cadman. He’d looked after her exiting the chopper and running towards the medical facilities directly adjourned to the Heliport, pressing a hand against her left upper arm and he’d gotten glimpses of blood on her face and her neck and when he’d turned around to start post-flight with his boss, Major Lorne had been as white as a sheet.
Lorne had said nothing, just methodically checked the chopper for bullet holes and other damage, ticking off his check list and all the while looking just like he did on the day that Charlie Williamson died. It’s funny, somehow. Those were the probably three most terrible days in his entire life and all he really remembers, in all his nightmares is Major Lorne’s face after Williamson slipped away. White, white as a ghost and bar all emotions, his eyes old and so, so tired.
Shit. Shit shit shit. It’s all back again, just like that. The machine gun fire and the diffuse fear and Lorne’s face and he needs to get out of here, out in the open, away from his claustrophobic, damp, hot quarters.
Without really thinking about it, he jumps up, clatters down the stairs and briskly walks away from the BOQ, towards the Heliport and before he knows it, he’s standing in front of the medical facilities and only then does he realize that he still holds Kassandra’s letter in his hand.
For a moment, he’s so disoriented that all he does is look around and squint into the sinking sun, crumbling the letter as his fingers slowly close around it. Then the sound of an approaching gunship washes over him like a cold shower and he realizes he must have been staring at the sinking sun for at least a minute.
Realizing that he must look pretty stupid standing around like this, he slowly starts walking again and his feet carry him over to the benches someone placed in front of the medical facilities. Okay, so he has no idea why he just walked up here but since he’s here and doesn’t have to be anywhere else right now, he can very well sit down. Somehow, the thought of going back to his cramped quarters doesn’t sound so appealing, either.
Okay, so… where was he? Ah, right.
Oh, dash it, just listen to me. I must sound so terribly conceited and superficial and I profoundly apologize (to the Lieutenant as well, for I am sure that she’s doing a terrific job and that looking feminine is the least bit of her worries at the moment!).
One of the most amazing things about Kassandra Wilson is that she will never cease to be able to make him laugh. Even after such a… weird and quite frankly frightening experience like what just happened to him, he just can’t help laughing at the image of Laura Cadman standing in front of a mirror, applying make-up and curling her hair while trying to find the most flattering way to wear a uniform as ugly as jungle greens.
So, okay, it’s not like he never saw her in civilian clothes but… no. Just… no. Grinning he continues reading.
I’m sure that the Lieutenant is a perfectly nice girl and very apparently, your commanding officer could see past the uniform, so I will hold my silly trap and say no more. But do tell me if they’re still an item (I confess, I can be very silly and romantic, if I put my mind to it, please don’t laugh!).
Oh good God, does she know how some of the things she writes to him sound? Did she actually intend to make an innuendo and honestly, on the list of things he tries very hard not to imagine, thinking about what his boss and Cadman are doing behind closed doors ranks in the top five. Top three, actually. Jesus H. Christ, Kassandra.
But, okay, he’ll try to give her an account of those last few crazy weeks, of how even he managed to notice that Lorne looks less like death warmed over when he’s around Cadman, about how Cadman seems to be less of a cynic in Lorne’s presence. Her big romantic country girl heart will love that.
Alright, so… where… ah, yes.
Aside from that, please let anyone know that some of us might be misguided but the great majority of those of us who do not support the war can distinguish perfectly well between this terrible war and the soldiers fighting and dying in it. I still think it is unjust and illegal but I also think that neither of you deserves the vitriol that some are spewing on you.
Wow, where did that just come from? Could it be that… his staunch anti-war pen pal who could only be silenced in her anti-war speech by him telling her that he would be shipping out in only a few days… could it be that she got in a fight because she defended him? He wouldn’t put it past her, seeing as even on that one not-date they went on because he insisted on buying her dinner to apologize for his ignorance during the talk he could see very clearly that Kassandra Wilson is a girl not afraid of a challenge, someone who’s not going to back down from anyone if she thinks she’s right, when she’s defending people who currently can’t defend themselves, not even the people whose side she is supposed to be on.
She’s… amazing that way. And not just a little bit scary.
You are a good person, Joe, and I’m sure that your friends and crew are, too. You all deserve to be brought home and be with your loved ones and your friends. That is what I will keep fighting for, all the way until each and every one of you is back here, safe and sound. Please forgive me that I will do this instead of unquestioningly supporting this war. All I want is to have you home, Joe.
That… that’s not what he’d expected. Maybe an account of the latest protest she went to or stories about what the government is doing to people not toeing the line or just anything political. But straight up telling him that she wants him home, something so personal… that frightens him. Scares him right down to his bones, scares the living daylights out of him.
He’s got about two months until his tour is over and he knows that both the Sergeants are positive that they’ll re-up and Lorne didn’t seem to averse to the idea, either, for whatever reason. He even overheard Cadman and her Air Force nurse friend talking about both considering to re-up and stay another year and until now, he’d strongly considered joining the rest of the gang. But all of a sudden… re-upping doesn’t sound like such a good idea anymore.
At least… it doesn’t sound half as good as going home, going back to Colorado Springs, going back to Miss Kassandra Wilson. Now, there’s an idea… no, better not think about it now. Just finish the letter and not think about all of those pictures she sent him that are sitting safely tucked away in his footlocker, of those two tape recordings she sent him, of that one totally botched up phone call they had four months ago. Just finish the damn letter.
But oh no, this became unexpectedly bleak and weepy, so I will try to cheer you up a little with what happened at the faculty party last week…
“Oh, Lieutenant Simmons… is something wrong with your quarters?” He blinks and looks up from his letter, seeing Captain Maureen Reece standing in front of him, in jungle greens decked with ominous dark spots all over her right upper body and a scrub cap on her head, her red curls trying to escape from it at every angle. He’s not sure if it might be the glaring lighting from the flood lights above but she looks like she could use a solid twenty-four hours of sleep. Or a seven day pass to farthest location possible.
He clears his throat, wondering if it might earn him a ticket to the shrink division if he told her that he’d felt as if he’d suffocate back in his quarters. “No, I just… I…”
“Yeah,” she says and sits down next to him, pulling off the scrub cap and freeing her hair before working on tying back again, “sometimes I get that, too.”
Apparently, the both of them have been too long in Vietnam because he doesn’t doubt for even a minute that she wasn’t just telling him that to fuck with his mind. She knows exactly what he was trying not to say and it scares the crap out of him that he can be so sure about that. Re-upping is starting to look like a decidedly bad idea.
She sits next to him, her eyes closed and he realizes that despite knowing exactly what she meant, he doesn’t really know her all that well. He sometimes accompanies his boss to Le Van Loc, just for a glass of bourbon or, two, silently raising it to his father who served in Korea and was never the same afterwards and he gets to view the five of them in action.
At first he’d been appalled at how freely the alcohol flows with this set of officers and how little Cadman resembled the image of what his mother calls a “city lady” and how detached Reece had sounded when she’d talked about her work and how Major Moore didn’t fit any of the criteria of “an officer and a gentleman” and how ungentlemanly his boss sometimes talked to Lieutenant Cadman and how Simon DeLisle didn’t do anything against the slandering of his reputation when people started to empty those buckets of CIA complicity accusations over his head.
But then he’d seen how Moore would always give up his seat if it meant for Captain Reece to have a better one and how Lorne always made sure Cadman would get home safely and how DeLisle took care of both his fellow officers without ever overstepping the bounds of a warrant officer. And only a few days ago, he’d incidentally seen Captain Reece take care of a seriously drunk Major Moore in the middle of the night and well, whatever Cadman does with Lorne, it seems to make him a lot less stern and unsociable.
He tries not to sound like he’s prying when he says, “Ma’am? Are you alright?”
She jumps a little, opening her eyes and seemingly needing a moment to realize that she’s still on base, not somewhere over Vietnam in her “Bou”. She shakes her head and runs a hand over her face. “Yeah, I’m good. I just sometimes help out the Army Nurses in the shag triage room when we’re on call and there are no sorties and well… we’ve been on call for two days now.”
Trying to comprehend, he slowly nods. “And… it’s been two busy days?”
That makes her snort and utter a very unladylike “Hell to the yeah,” before she seems to remember that she’s in the company of Joseph “Squeaky” Simmons, the stuffiest officer under thirty in all of Vietnam. Possibly in the entire Air Force. The thing he hates most about that assumption is that he recently started to think that it might actually be true. “Anyway, what have you been reading? Letter from home?”
A little embarrassed, he rubs his neck and for a moment, he considers simply telling her yes and just skirting around the issue, as so that he doesn’t have to tell her an outright lie. But there’s something about her, maybe because of her profession or her tired, friendly face, that makes him want to tell her about Kassandra and the letters she’s been writing him and the impossible urge to sit in her tiny Colorado Springs apartment and listen to her talk, just listen and fall asleep to the sound of her voice. “Something… like that, yes. It’s… it’s from a girl back stateside.”
It makes her smirk and ten months ago he probably would have found it horrifying to watch a lady make that kind of face but ten months in a war zone have taught him to know better than trying to make any remark about it. Besides, it doesn’t look so bad on her. “Better not let anyone know you’ve got a girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Well. The gentleman doth protest too much. It’s exactly what she must be thinking now, even though her face doesn’t give it exactly away. But damn, even he’d be thinking that some evil force takes over his brain and he can’t help starting to blubber, “Well, she’s not my girlfriend, just a girl friend. I’m not… we’re not…”
“Better not let anyone know that, either.” But why the hell ever not, he wants to ask but he recognizes an attempt to rescue him from making a grave mistake that would expose him to merciless teasing both from the gang and from the Sergeants, even if it comes in the disguise of Maureen Reece smirking again and rolling her eyes.
For some reason, suddenly a question occurs to him, one that she and only a handful others are probably the only ones qualified to answer. He clears his throat. “Ma’am…”
“What is it?”
It’s amazing that she’s still more laconic than anything, that she still hasn’t grown tired of Lieutenant Squeaky and he feels marginally encouraged to say, “Can I ask you something?”
She nods. “Sure, just shoot.”
Okay, so how to go about this?
Mh. Maybe Cadman is right. Maybe a good offence is the best defense or something. “How bad, I mean how well would Major Lorne take it if I decided not to sign on for another tour?”
That… came out in just a bit too much of a jumble and he’s absolutely not surprised to see bewilderment on her face. “You never really got to know your boss, huh?”
He is surprised, though, that this is her answer. A little unsure of how to go on, he tentatively asks, “Ma’am?”
She shakes her head, in an expression of fatigue that he thinks isn’t there just because she’s been on her feet for probably more than twenty-four hours and his confusion about her remark about not really knowing his boss absolutely does not get cleared up when she says, “Just don’t get killed and go home to your little not-girlfriend when your tour is over, Joe. You’re a good person and this isn’t a war for you. Get out of it as fast as you can.”
Nope, not answered at all. He decides to be daring. “I’m… not sure what this has to do with how Major Lorne might view it if I don’t opt for a second tour, ma’am.”
Now she looks a little like her patience is starting to wean and she’s considering to tell him to just fuck off but then again, she’s not Major Moore and she’s probably used to dealing with not so bright males asking her stupid questions. She is dealing with wounded Marines on a daily basis, after all. “That’s exactly what he’d tell you if you asked him about his opinion on doing a second tour.” Does she… does she mean that Major Lorne thinks he’s a clueless country bumpkin who just can’t cut it in a place like Vietnam? “I think he thinks of you as a highly skilled co-pilot but Joe, some people just aren’t made for this war and believe me, that’s a thing to be damn proud of.”
He fails to see how anyone wearing a uniform could be proud of being called a dishonor and a failure for that uniform, how anyone swearing to defend his country in war could be proud of “not being made for this war”. He wants to tell her something to that effect but she’s faster. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
Almost not daring to, he manages to shake his head and she smiles a small, sad smile that he has never seen on her carefully guarded face before. “You know, I joined the Air Force Nurse Corps five years ago, after college. I needed a way to pay off my tuition fees and until I got to ‘Nam, I never even left my home state, except for training assignments. You wouldn’t believe how insecure and scared out of my pants I was when I came here ten months ago. I was… God, I was twenty-six and I went about life like a girl of twenty.” He hadn’t known a single thing of that, mainly because she never mentioned it in his presence but then again, he’d never asked, had he?
She leans back, staring off into space and for a moment she looks exactly like that thousand yard stare he keeps seeing in Marines’ eyes on firebases all over Vietnam. “Sometimes, I miss that girl.”
And that, for some strange, unidentifiable reason makes him see what she meant when she said “some people aren’t made for this war” and how she could think that that’s a thing to be proud of. Why she sounded a bit like she envied him “not being made for this war”. He leans back himself, not daring to look at her and fumbling for words until the only thing that comes to him tumbles out of his mouth, “Oh, ma’am, since I’m here, anyway… I’d just like to ask if you maybe know something about Lieutenant Cadman?”
It wasn’t supposed to sound so, well, timid, but she seems to take it in stride, doesn’t even take time to mock him about it and just gives him a little deadpan grin when she says, “She’ll be okay, don’t worry. As long as she can whine about her camera while a nurse is digging bits of broken glass out of her cheek, she’s gonna be fine.”
That… that sounds terrible and he wonders how she can actually joke about bits of broken glass in anyone’s face – most of all her friend’s face – but looking at her, he realizes that this is an attempt at humor, an attempt at reassuring him by being purposefully casual and he can’t help but appreciate the try, even though he will probably never understand nurses humor. And anyway… “Get up, Lieutenant, we just got an emergency call.” Why did his boss just come running out of the medical facility? “Oh, Captain Reece. Can you…”
“Don’t worry, sir, she’ll stay with me tonight.” Huh, who… oh, right. Oh. Right. Of course Lorne wouldn’t simply go to his quarters when his girlfriend is in need of medical attention. Somehow knowing that Lorne forwent possible rest to stay at Cadman’s side doesn’t sit so bad with him all of a sudden.
His CO doesn’t really acknowledge him for a moment, though, and keeps addressing Reece. “Look, I don’t want to inconvenience…”
“Yes, you may come around when you’re back from your sortie, sir.” Did she… just encourage Lorne to break the sanctity of the women officers’ BOQ? “Just try not to wake the guard detail, please. They can be… jumpy.” Fucking hell, yes, she did.
“Trust me, I know.” Oh. Oh good. His commanding officer knows the guards at the women BOQ. He knows they’re “jumpy”. Good. Great. “Come on, Joe, we’re on.” Huh, what?
Oh, right, Lorne wants him to follow him to the chopper for just another night rescue sortie. Apparently, it’s urgent since he doesn’t even stay to acknowledge Reece murmuring, “Take care, sir.” She just reacts with rolling her eyes and turns to him, “And you, too, Lieutenant.”
That kind of… takes him unawares. Reece never struck him as someone prone to displaying deep affection openly, let alone casual friendship so he’s confused enough that he resorts to babbling again. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” And, because he’s an idiot, he can’t help adding, “And, ma’am?”
She raises her eyebrow, looking scarily like Moore when he wants to communicate that you just majorly annoyed him. “What?”
He nearly chickens out because it suddenly seems to be too trivial to even say it but then again, he learned things about Maureen Reece today he’d never even thought about before and sometimes, the things that appear trivial are those no one ever says. He forces himself to look her in the eye. “I think you’re a good person, too.”
At that, she just rolls her eyes but he’s pretty sure that she’s actually blushing and no one can convince him otherwise. Even telling him, “Get going, Lieutenant,” with a sufficient amount of irritation isn’t exactly helping and he knows he shouldn’t treat a lady and an officer like that but he just can’t help grinning at her before turning around and running towards the Heliport.
As he straps himself in, map in his lap and doing a pre-flight instrument check, he throws his boss a short look and he realizes that he’ll never be able to exhibit the stone-cold stoicism that Lorne never loses, not even under enemy fire, not even when he just lost his brother-in-law. He realizes that this isn’t who he wants to be and he realizes that he needs to get back to the US, out of this country, as fast as he possibly can. And damn, does he need to get back to Kassandra Wilson.
The Jolly Green Giant takes off and in between checks and communication with the ground, he hears Lorne say, “So, thought about re-upping, Lieutenant?” as if he’s a goddamn psychic.
Well then. Time to face the music, huh? He doesn’t even have to clear his throat before he says, “Yeah, about that, sir…” and really, it may not be the best time to tell his boss that he’ll have to go looking for a new co-pilot soon but then again, no time’s a good time for that, so what the hell, huh?