Read Promises to Keep for Free Online Page B

a shit-faced grin, as he looked up at
Chief.
    "Fuck
the dragon," Chief Whitley growled.
    Usually
as carefully groomed as one could be in this Hellhole, dust and grime covered Whitley’s
dark complexion. Even his bald head wasn’t shining; he was so coated by soot.
With his perfect white teeth bared, Chief was smiling.
    It
took them less than five minutes to wrap the Marine up in the tarp and carry
him to the waiting chopper. They barely had time to put him in and back away
before the MEDIVAC helicopter leaped skyward once again, with an almost
triumphant roar.
    Jack
and Chief Whitley hurried back to their HUMVEE. The patrol resumed its trek up
the road. The last thing Jack saw of the village, were marines tossing
incendiary grenades into the badly damaged HUMVEE.
    He
knew the Marines didn't want to leave the enemy anything they could use, so
what they couldn't take with them, they burned.
    The
rest of the patrol was uneventful, but everyone was understandably on edge. It
was the heat. It was the pressure. It was the smell of blood, dust, gas and
soot. It was the nearness and prospect of death.
    When
they finally rolled into home base, the first thing Jack did was to walk
between two of the tents, take off his grimy uniform jacket and douse himself
with bottle after bottle of water. He wanted to feel clean.
    It
felt like forever since he'd had that feeling.
    Cool,
clear water flowed over his head, washing the dirt and dust away from his face,
out of his ears, and his mouth. The water that pooled at his feet was tinged
red with the blood from the soldier in the blown up HUMVEE.
    Jack
just kept pouring the water over himself until it ran clear.
    "Doc?"
    Jack
turned around to see Chief Whitley standing behind him. "What's up,
chief?"
    "I
just got off the radio with the hospital. That Marine’s going to make it. Good
job."
    "Thanks,
Chief. Good job to you, too."
    "It
feels good to win one, don't it?"
    "It
sure as Hell does."
    Chief
Whitley started to turn away, but paused and pulled something out of his back
pocket. "I almost forgot, mail came in today. You got this letter."
    He
handed it over.
    Jack
took it and held it up to the light. At first, he didn't recognize the return
address, but then, with some surprise, he realized where it must've come from.
    Bob
Wynn’s wife.
    Chief
Whitley left as Jack settled down on an empty jerry can and tore open the
envelope.
    He
smelled the faint scent of a lady on the paper. It wasn't any overly flowery,
feminine perfume, nothing as tacky as that. It was just the clean, wholesome
smell of a woman.
    Feeling
a little sheepish, Jack pressed the letter to his face, shut his eyes and took
a deep breath. He allowed the scent to transport him back, if only for a
moment. Inhaling, he smelled the fresh air of home—of a normal life, of family,
friends and familiar goodness.
    Man,
he missed those things.
    The
letter wasn’t typed. Her cursive script was handwritten in large letters, with
small neatly spaced loops. In some inexplicable way, the writing was visibly
feminine.
    Dear
Doctor Curren;
    Thank
you so much for your heartfelt letter.
    Things
have been really rough here all around. I'd honestly started to put everything
behind me by the time your letter finally arrived. I'd convinced myself that
sometimes it was best just to forget things that hurt, and move on with life. I
tried to let the past be the past.
    What
you wrote to me in your letter got me thinking. You made me reconsider my
philosophy. I now believe that it’s important to remember, even if it's
painful.
    Early
in the morning, I often go down to the beach and watch the sunrise over the
ocean. It's so quiet then. Even the waves don't make much noise. That’s my
thinking time.
    Once
I read your letter, I immediately started to write back to you. Then I stopped
until I'd had a chance to go over it in my mind. I went down to the beach and
sat there just at the high tide mark and thought and thought. I concluded that
it would be