After The Last Full Measure (AU)

[Poohbah]

19 July 1991
Jumpmaster School
Fort Bragg, NC

Colonel Schuster sighed, then said, "Nobody gets it right the first time. Except for Major Mantell, apparently."

Command Sergeant Major John Vasquez said, "Sir, he's done a lot of jumping, he always applies himself 110 percent, and Master Sergeant LaRusso with Delta 1-184 really knows his trade; he was one of the best instructors we've had."

Schuster nodded. "Send him in."

A minute later, Mantell marched into Schuster's office, stopped six inches from his desk, and saluted. "Sir, Major Mantell reports!"

Schuster came to attention and returned the salute, then said, "Congratulations, Major, you've passed the course. You're the only guy who didn't have to retest at all. Outstanding work."

"Thank you, sir."

"Thank you for giving this everything you have." He handed over a sheaf of paperwork. "Here are your orders confirming that you can now serve as a jumpmaster. Now that's done, you need to report to the head shed at Pope, someone wants to talk to you."

* * *

19 July 1991
Pope AFB HQ Building

"Major, I'm Colonel Michelle Beckwood, with the National Museum of the Air Force. We'd like you to put in an appearance at an event we're trying to set up."

Josh listened to the proposal and was quiet for a moment. Finally, he said, "Well, I'm perfectly willing to beclown myself--"

"Beclown yourself? Really?"

"Yes, ma'am, the whole thing is kind of over the top. My only objection is that just kind of over the top, it needs to go all the way over the top and into Zone Five Afterburner silliness."

Mantell laid out his proposed modifications.

"I don't know if we can get him--"

"Ask, ma'am. Worst he can do is say 'no.' And if he does, well, we still have options. But we really need to center this not only in a moment of Air Force history, but in the larger American cultural context."

"Major, can we dispense with the pseudo-academic bullshit?"

"You kiss your mother with that mouth, ma'am? Such unladylike language is not tolerated at BYU, and officers should set the example of good manners and genteel language, ma'am."

Beckwood rolled her eyes. "I can see we're going to have to work on this relationship."

* * *

02 August 1991
Salt Lake City, UT

Sophie and Marianne looked at each other. After months of classwork, they were about to meet their prospective foster child.

Frazier led a young girl into the room, She had fair skin and blonde hair. "Ladies, this is Susan Johansen. Her family was down in Texas at the start of the war; we're still trying to find any surviving relatives."

Susan shyly waved hello.

Marianne said, "Hello, Susan. It's okay to be nervous--we are, too."

* * *

Sophie said, "I don't know about you, Susan, but I think conversation goes better over food."

Marianne nodded. "Same here."

Susan nodded.

"Want to get some lunch?"

Susan said, "Sure."

* * *

Once their food arrived, Sophie said, "Well, I work at Novell, and we have a tradition there called 'AMA,' which means, 'Ask Me Anything.' So, Susan . . . ask me anything."

Susan nodded, then asked, "You two are . . . um . . . "

Sophie said, "Yes, we're married to each other, and we love each other very much. Is that a problem for you?"

Susan shook her head. "No. It's . . . different, that's all. You guys do your thing, I'll stay out of it."

Marianne said, "Well, now that that's out of the way, what other questions do you have?"

Susan asked, "Where will I be going to school?"

"Dixon Middle School, about six blocks from our house."

With that, the dam opened, and Susan asked about what Sophie and Marianne did, where they were from, and so on.

Sophie asked, "Where are you from, Susan?"

"Muleshoe, Texas."

Sophie and Marianne exchanged a look.

Susan said, "I know what happened. They're looking for relatives anywhere in Texas or New Mexico . . . but it's been four years and they haven't found anyone."

Sophie asked, "Well, it's a small world; one of my friends growing up was the platoon sergeant of the first unit to arrive in Muleshoe. As a matter of fact, he's here in Provo teaching ROTC at BYU, and he testified at one of the trials. How did you end up in Utah?"

"I was in New Mexico, visiting my grandparents. As soon as they set up the St. George Camp, my grandfather sent me there, then he and grandma headed east and went into the resistance." She sighed. "They got caught."

Sophie felt her heart was about to burst. How alone can you be?

"I'm sorry, Susan."

Susan nibbled on her sandwich, then said, "They keep looking . . . but I don't think anyone's left from my family." She sighed. "If there is . . . what happens then?"

Marianne said, "They'll try to reunite you, if it's possible." She paused, then said, "Susan . . . something I learned during the war, being an emergency room nurse . . . today always has plenty of things to worry about. Tomorrow will always come, and you can worry about tomorrow's things then."

Susan said, "I'll do what I can."

Sophie found her voice. "All we can ever do."

Susan asked, "So, how did you guys end up in Utah?"

Sophie laughed softly. "Because Stanford told me to get lost, but the University of Utah rolled out the red carpet. I went to MIT before the war, and tested out of my upper division courses as I was able to during the war. They eventually awarded me a Bachelor's of Science in Computer Science and Applied Mathematics, and I shopped around for a graduate school after the war ended--I'm studying software engineering. I met Marianne while I was assigned to Tenth Air Force HQ during the war. Later on, Marianne was working down in the Sevier Valley. My mom works at RAND--it's a think tank, she mostly works with the Air Force--up the road in Salt Lake City."

Susan frowned. "I thought you were from San Diego."

"I am. Mom was a professor of Classical Antiquity--ancient Greece and Rome, mostly--at San Diego State. When the war came, she got asked to work for RAND . . . and there wasn't a lot of demand for classical scholarship." Sophie sighed. "Everyone went to war, and sometimes even the people who didn't go to the front carry scars."

[jemhouston]

Everyone alive during the war is more or less broken.

[Wolfman]

Everyone alive during the war is more or less broken.

Ain’t that the sorry truth?

[Matt Wiser]

Yes, it is.

[Poohbah]

13 August 1991
Provo, UT

Marianne announced they were celebrating formally being declared a foster family. She made spaghetti with meatballs and marinara sauce for dinner.

"I got this recipe from an Italian-American nurse at the UNLV Medical Center, it was handed down through her family ever since they got off the boat at Ellis Island about a century ago. It's a touch spicier than most spaghetti, but there's some extra sweetness to balance it."

Susan thought it was delicious.

The conversation was light and easy. At one point, Sophie giggled.

Susan looked at Sophie. "What's so funny?"

"This is pretty much how dinner was at my house growing up. Relaxed, good food, chatting with my parents . . . only now I'm seeing it from the other end. I wonder if Mom & Dad felt the way I do now."

Everyone laughed.

* * *

14 August 1990
Provo, UT

Sophie stood up from the breakfast nook and said, "See you two tonight."

She took her briefcase and headed for the garage door. Marianne intercepted her and gave her a kiss. "I love you."

Sophie returned the kiss and said, "I love you."

Sophie went out into the garage, and in moments the truck started up and she was off to work.

Marianne finished wiping down the kitchen counter and noticed Susan's bemused expression.

"What's bothering you, Susan?"

"Not exactly . . . bothered. But you guys are really just like any happy married couple. She's dressed in a professional outfit and carrying a briefcase, you're a housewife in jeans and a shirt, you guys kiss just like any other married couple, and you both say, 'I love you.' But . . . you're both women. I just don't know what to make of it."

Marianne sat down in the breakfast nook. "Well, it's really simple. We love each other, just like any happily married couple do."

Susan chuckled. "I apparently lived a sheltered life."

Marianne smiled. "Susan . . . love is blind, stupid, and crazy. It's not rational, it's not something you can put on a checklist. Don't worry about it. At 13, I was two years ahead of my peers, in 9th grade."

"Wow."

"I don't recommend it. Seriously, I don't. I ended up going to college at 16 and suddenly needed to be a lot more grown up than I was really capable of."

Susan nodded. "Oh."

"Look, you'll grow up at whatever rate you grow up. Your parents ever have the birds and the bees talk with you?"

Susan shook her head. "I was eight when the war started." She paused, then said, "I've had some sex education at Fort Douglas.

Marianne said, "Tonight, we're going to have one of those talks. I want Sophie to be there with me."

* * *

After dinner, Sophie, Marianne, and Susan went into the living room.

Sophie said, "Well, here we are. So, I'm about to have one of those talks with you. My mother had one with me at this point. Yes, I'd had basic sex education at this point. This isn't about that."

She paused, then said, "His name was Adam Lodge."

Susan had a puzzled expression for a few seconds, then said, "You had a boyfriend?"

Sophie leaned back in the sofa and and chuckled. "Oh, Susan . . . 'boyfriend' doesn't begin to describe it. A mutual friend introduced us. We both needed serious help, me with Spanish, and him with algebra. I have a mutant math ability, and I taught him how to break down math into bite-size chunks and do the work. Meanwhile, he figured out how to help me in Spanish: he told me to drop the class and take German instead. I found it a lot easier, but I kept going to him for tutoring and he kept asking me fore help with math. One thing led to another, and we started dating. For my Sweet 16, he gave me a makeover and a guided shopping spree at Nordstrom Rack--he had one of the store managers help me choose clothes, because I didn't know how." She felt the smile tug at her lips. "When I got home, my mother didn't recognize me for a few seconds; I'd gone from a mousy wallflower to seeing that I was beautiful, and that I could enhance my beauty with some simple choices. Mom sat me down and we had a talk that I'm going to have with you at some point in the future, but you're not really ready for that talk right now.

"Had he survived the war, I would've married him."

Susan let out a soft sigh. "Do you still miss him?"

"Every day. He was a gentleman of the old school, he loved me, and I would've gladly bore his children and raised them with him. The world needs more people like him. But God needed him for something else . . . and life goes on."

Susan nodded.

Marianne said, "I grew up way too fast, and I ended up doing things that, looking back, didn't do me any favors. Sophie's parents did only good things for her, and she avoided all of those pitfalls. I promise you this: if you have any questions about sex, love, intimacy--and those are three very different things--you can come to either of us and ask. We won't yell at you. We'll talk."

Sophie nodded. "And I need to introduce you to my mother. She's a dear, sweet woman--far more Godly than I'll ever be, but she's not a prig about it. If you feel like you can't talk to us because we're too close to the situation or to you--and that does happen--you can always rely on my mom. Sound like a plan to you?"

Susan said, "Yes. Thank you both . . . I have no idea what I'm doing sometimes. At least I know you're there to help."

She went over to the couch and gave Marianne and then Sophie a hug.

* * *

In their bedroom, Sophie and Marianne held each other for a long time.

"Sophie . . . I'm scared that I don't know what I'm doing. But I'm not giving up."

"Same here, darling. With you 100 percent."

* * *

15 August 1991
Grace Assembly
Provo, UT

Dave Fluegel said, "Well, you guys are officially okay to be married. When do you want to do the ceremony?"

Josh looked at the calendar and said, "How about at the 9 AM Sunday service?"

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. Grab Bill and Janice Peltier to be the witnesses, and the coffee and doughnuts are on me this Sunday."

After a moment, Dave said, "Still paying the going rate for the church and me officiating, right? I gotta earn my keep and keep the building in good repair."

"And you get my regular tithe, too."

"Fair enough. But I really do need to move it to the 25th."

Josh and Kathy looked at each other, and then Kathy said, "Fair enough."

* * *

20 August 1990
Provo, UT

Marianne had a concerned expression on her face when Sophie came through the door from the garage.

"What's up?"

Marianne handed her a letter from the Dixon Middle School PTA.

Sophie read it and rolled her eyes. "You gotta be--"

She abruptly stopped, took a breath, then said, "Kidding. I mean, this is a joke, right?"

"No joke."

"Well, I intend to crash the meeting."

"Same here."

Susan stepped into the kitchen. "Uh . . . guys? What good will that do?"

Sophie smiled. "I'll talk some sense into them."

* * *

22 August 1990
Dixon Middle School
Provo, UT

The auditorium was sparsely filled.

The chairwoman said, "Now, we have some new business. It's come to the PTA's attention that we will may be gaining a new student, a foster child of a same-sex couple. This naturally raises some important concerns about morals and decency . . . "

Sophie stood up and marched to the podium.

"Uh, Miss? I haven't opened the floor."

"Well, actually, you just did. My name is Sophia Marie Henrix. I am one of Susan Johansen's foster parents. You want to talk smack about me? Here I am, people. Ask me anything."

A middle-aged woman asked, "Is your . . . partner, I guess . . . here?"

Sophie looked back to where she'd been sitting, and Marianne stood up. Sophie gestured for her to come down, and then did the same for Susan.

When they'd joined her, Sophie said, "All right. I'm a software engineer at Novell, and a graduate student at Utah Valley University. I hold a Bachelor's in Computer Science, minoring in Applied Mathematics, from MIT. I am an Air Force Reserve special tactics officer, drilling with the 125th Special Tactics Squadron at Klamath, Oregon. Marianne is my wife, and is a registered nurse. I love her with all my heart. We decided to become foster parents when we learned that there's over 2,000 kids living in what's essentially an orphanage on Fort Douglas. Everybody expects somebody to do it, anybody can do it, but mostly, nobody is doing it. I believe in my very bones that if you aren't part of the solution, then you're still part of the problem. I am not interested in corrupting the morals of anyone's kids; I want everyone's kids to grow up safe, healthy, well-adjusted, and properly educated. My mission is to be a good wife to Marianne, and a good foster parent to Susan. Marianne's on board with me one hundred percent. Anyone have any actual concerns to raise?"

A man asked, "What about harassment?"

Sophie looked at the man asking the question for a moment, then said, "I'm sure Principal Crandall will be able to maintain good order and discipline."

She looked at Crandall, who cleared his throat and said, "Ah, yes. We will not tolerate any disruptive behavior." He then shot a venomous glare at the chairwoman.

* * *

Crandall came over and offered his hand. "Thank you, Ms. Henrix. You saved me the trouble. Although you've made an enemy out of Mrs. Irons."

Sophie smiled. "Oh, I'm not worried. She really does mean well, and she's probably not going to try to kill me. I made lots of enemies during the war. I even had a bounty on my head for $250,000 by war's end, and it was in Benjamins. Only a few idiots ever tried to collect."

Crandall went pale, and Sophie realized that she'd used the wrong smile.

* * *

Susan was silent again as they walked back to the house in the early evening.

Sophie asked, "Susan? You okay?"

Susan said, "Uh . . . you know you can be a little scary?"

Sophie laughed. "A 'little' scary? Trust me, kiddo, I understand that I can be extremely scary. If I'm not careful, I tend to freak out people who aren't meat eaters like me."

Marianne said, "Sophie, I'm not a vegetarian, and you freaked me out."

"Figure of speech." She sighed. "The term 'meat eater' means that someone is a confirmed killer. War means fighting, and fighting means killing. Now, a lot of it gets done at long range, where you can't see what you did." She sighed. "Not me. I've done it up close and personal. I even did it once in very hot blood to an extremely evil and vile person. And I have to live with having done all of that."

Susan said, "If you're the woman that cooked that guy extra crispy in Las Vegas, thank you."

Sophie and Marianne stared at each other. Marianne mouthed, "Not me."

Susan said, "Everyone in the camp knew about him, and all of us girls--especially the older ones, they're almost all adults now--were cheering when his buddies at Camp Admin got arrested by the FBI."

* * *

Susan was in her pajamas and under the covers, reading a book. Sophie stuck her head in the room. "Lights out, please."

Susan put the book on her nightstand and said, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For going to bat for me."

"You sure you're OK?"

Susan smiled. "Yes. I know you'll protect me from bad people. Good night."

"Good night."

Sophie closed the door quickly and dabbed at her eyes.

God, I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. Please help me be worthy of the trust Susan is giving me.

[Matt Wiser]

This girl cannot have a better parent/bodyguard than Sophie.

[Poohbah]

24 August 1991
Visiting Aircraft Ramp
Hill AFB, Ogden UT

Josh checked his flight gear again and looked dubiously at Kathy. "Why do I get the impression that you and Colonel MacGregor are up to something?"

Kathy smiled. "What makes you say that?"

A woman's voice called across the concrete. "Kathy?"

Kathy visibly brightened. "Starbuck!"

"Well, that comes to mind."

Kathy stuck her tongue out at Josh as the other woman--a woman with short blonde hair and an open, angular face--came over.

The two women embraced, and Kathy said, "Starbuck, meet Major Joshua Mantell, my fiancé. Josh, meet Major Kara Thrace, call sign 'Starbuck.' She graciously agreed to give you the aerobatics fam you missed because of the trial."

Josh said, "Pleased to meet you, Major Thrace."

"It's Starbuck until after the debrief. You ever get a call sign?"

Josh sighed. "I was an aerial gunner on Day One. Got tagged 'Uncle Gus' for blowing up a Mexican Army fuel truck during our first assault landing on a regimental HQ."

Starbuck laughed. "Oh, that's a good one."

* * *

At altitude, riding in the Phantom's backseat, Josh savored the view of the Wasatch Front and the Great Salt Lake. He'd learned that Starbuck was an instructor with the F-4E B-Course at Luke.

"Yo, Uncle Gus?"

"What's up, Starbuck?"

"Just letting you know, Kathy said you're a big boy."

With that, Starbuck rolled the aircraft 90 degrees and yanked on the stick hard. Mantell forced himself to grunt against the pressure as his field of vision narrowed. He stayed conscious--just--and sucked in oxygen as Starbuck leveled out.

"You still with me, Uncle Gus?"

"Bring it on!"

Starbuck laughed, and Josh felt the laughter as she threw the bird into a wild series of maneuvers over the Wendover Range. Slips, slides, rolls, Immelmanns and Split-S maneuvers a Cuban 8 followed a barrel roll, and finishing off with a hammerhead stall that made Josh let out a whoop of pure joy.

After the debrief, in which Josh counted out the barf bags he'd been issued, but never used, Starbuck intercepted him. "Hey, can I talk to you for a moment?"

Josh weighed her tense demeanor and asked, "You up for lunch?"

Starbuck nodded.

"I'm available."

* * *

After their orders arrived, Josh prayed silently, adding: Lord, grant that I not seek so much that I be understood as to understand. Amen.

Josh dipped a French fry in ketchup and asked, "So, what's on your mind?"

"Look, I'm familiar with your story . . . captured Fidel and lost your wife barely a month later." She nibbled at her sandwich, then asked, "What is it that you have that I don't?"

"Nothing I don't have. You just don't quite see it, that's all."

"That's a cop-out."

Josh shook his head. "Nope." He smiled. "You know why I let out that whoop on the hammerhead maneuver?"

"Because you were into it?"

Mantell chuckled. "Not really. Because . . . I was in the presence of an angel, blazing with the fire of God." He waved his hand, taking in the club. "You don't really belong here, in a world of two dimensions and 32.2 feet per second squared holding you to the floor. You belong up there. You dance in the sky. Up there, I saw what God made you to be."

"So why are you doing so well and I'm . . . a mess?"

Josh took a bite of his club sandwich, chewed, and swallowed. "Maybe you're just not quite accepting of . . . well, immanence."

Starbuck gaped at him. "Wait. You think God's with me?"

"I think He's with all of us. The trick is to accept Him as He accepts us." He was quiet a moment, then said, "Listen, I had a hard time with it, too. Let me tell you a little story. I was dating Roberta--who would become my wife--before the war. I got orders to Japan, and we had a screaming fight about it over the phone. Next morning, the war broke out." He paused, then said, "Even after that fight, I still loved her. During the war, my platoon got a radio operator. I was the platoon sergeant. Her name was Amanda, and she was my type. Brunette, beautiful, intelligent. I didn't act on the attraction . . . but I felt as if I was unfaithful in my heart."

"So, what happened?"

"I ended up wearing Amanda's brains all over me during the fight for Lubbock International Airport." He sighed. "When we reunited, I told Roberta about it, and she forgave me being attracted to Amanda, right there on the spot. It took that to be able to forgive myself for Amanda's death. God's a lot quicker to forgive than any of us are. What I've learned is that He really doesn't care about our sins, real or imagined, less than He cares about us turning toward Him and accepting the gifts He wants to shower us with."

Kara was silent, then said, "Well, there's some food for thought. Thank you."

[jemhouston]

Heavy