15 What Makes a Hero?

What makes a hero?

They say a hero is someone that has given his life to something bigger than himself.

I say a hero is no braver than an ordinary man, he is just braver for five minutes longer.

All soldiers are brave, it's what they do with their bravery that makes them heroes.

Am I a hero?

I am a soldier that put my life on the line to save my squad. It is my job, doing my job should not make me a hero.

Do I tell people, the people I love, the woman I am going to love, do I tell everyone the truth?

"Betty, can I have a few minutes alone with my family before we carry on?"

"Sure, we will go get some coffee in the kitchen."

Betty and her crew turn to leave the room. Isabella gets up and follows them out the door.

"No boo, you stay, I want you to hear this too. Please don't go."

My mom takes my cold hands into hers. They feel like an icy winter wind. They are shaking, an indescribable fear is building up in my body. "Are you okay Clay? Are you cold sweetie? Let me get you a jacket."

"No mom I am not cold, I am scared. I want to ask you guys a question before I say anything."

My father looks at me with clear concern on his face. "What is wrong son? You have gone pale. Has Betty gone too far with this whole show of hers?"

"No, dad. There is a lot more to my story. I want to know if you want to hear it."

Matt comes on over to me. "Bro only if you want to say. I mean there is no reason why you should tell Betty everything."

"I agree soldier. It is your story. You tell only what you want them to know."

I turn to my mom and my dad and ask them the same question.

"Clay," my mom says as she holds my hand even firmer. "My son, I support you no matter what you decide to do."

"I agree with your mother. You do what you need to do. I will be right here for you. I will throw that bag out of here even if I have to."

"It is going to be ugly," I continue to say. "It is not a story that is easy to tell. We lost a soldier that day. I think his story, our story, needs to be told. He was the hero after all."

"Do you want me to sit with you, soldier?" Isabella asks.

"Thanks boo, but I need to do this one on my own."

"Okay but I am going to be right here if you need me. You got this, we all know you are strong, you can do this. Do you want me to go call that crazy old lady?"

"Yes before I change my mind"

Old Betty comes back into the lounge and looks at me confused, I don't say a word, I just nod. She gets back into her chair and the camera starts rolling again.

"Clay, you were telling us how they got you out?"

"Betty, just before we carry on. I want to say that if you are going to tell this story then I want you to tell it all. Please do not cut any parts of this out."

"Of course my boy. Now take your time. What happened?

"As soon as all other soldiers managed to get themselves out, they came to help the one soldier that was trying to get me out. Johnny that is what we called him, Jonathan Bradford was his real name."

I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart and then continue further.

"They managed to get the busted chair back far enough to slip my leg out. My femur was broken, it was a compound fracture that means the bone was piercing through my skin. All I could see was blood and flesh and bone sticking through all of that, it was the worst thing I have ever seen in my life. I could not walk so I ordered them to leave me there, I was only going to slow them down if someone had to carry me. They had to get out of there because the gunfire was getting closer.

I watch as my mom's eyes go wider. Her knuckles are white from her crushing her hands together. Dad and Matt is sitting dead still, it looks like they are almost not breathing. Isabelle has terror written on her face. She manages to give me a genuine smile as she sees me trembling. I swallow hard and I try and keep the tears away. I wait until I am composed and continue on telling.

"They did not want to listen, especially Johnny. They stayed there and continued to argue with me that someone from base will notice that we are not back yet. They disobeyed my orders, they did not leave me. They stood around me while the gunfire got closer and closer. We were there for about ten minutes when we saw the first two, they were on foot coming towards us, shooting them down was easy enough, then there was another two and then another three, we managed to kill them without any one of us getting hurt. We were lucky. But then there was a Humvee with five of them, they came straight in our direction, shooting at us. But the strange thing is they did not hit us, it was if they wanted us alive."

I watch my dad, he knows what I am going to say next and so do I. I grab onto my leg as the memories of that horrific day comes back to me. That unbearable pain I felt in my leg is rushing back to my mind. Everything feels like it is happening in slow motion. "This is enough. Betty, I think you have more than enough to tell. Please pack up and get out of my house now."

"Dad it is fine. I want to finish."

"Okay son but as soon as you had enough just say the word and they are gone."

I take a big sip of my water, what I would give to have whiskey in it right now. Before I can finish, Betty starts again.

"Clay so your squad stayed with you after you told them to leave you?"

"Yes, they all stayed."

"And then you came under attack?"

"Yes, the group we drove through earlier caught up with us. We managed to kill all the ones that came on foot but then there was a bunch that came in a Humvee,"

"And they did not try to kill you? Did they not kill anyone in your squad?"

"No. They took us captive. They tied everyone except Johnny up, they made him carry me. They took us to a nearby abandoned building, it was the old jailhouse, and they locked us up and left us there alone for the first half of the day."

"What did they want from you, why were they holding you captive?"

"They wanted to know where our base camp was. When they saw that nobody was going to answer, they asked who the squad leader was. Johnny told them it was him but of course, they knew he was lying."

"Did you tell them it was you?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"They took me. They dragged me out of the cell to a small office close by and put me on and tied me to a chair."

"What did they do?"

"They...they tortured me."

"THIS IS ENOUGH!" I hear my father's voice thunder as it echoes to every corner of every room in the house.

"Dad it is fine."

I see the anger is boiling in his face. But there is something else building in his eyes, itis tears, my dad, the big old stubborn man is about to cry. I am still trying to hold back my very own tears. My trembling hands are now shaking, I can hear the buttons on the sleeves of my jacket rattle against the wooden frame of the chair. I can almost feel myself being tied up again.

"I must finish dad, please."

"Clay are you sure?"

"Yes, dad."

Betty is sitting in silent shock. I think for once the old bag has taken something on that is a bit bigger than herself. Never again do I think she will be snooping around where things are best kept hidden.

I hear as Betty stutter to get the words out of her mouth. "You say. Did they? You say torture?"

"They took their guns and started to pound at my broken bone that was sticking out my leg."

Every single one in the room cringe. That pain, that unbearable shock that shot through my body, everything I felt, come screaming back to me. It is like I can almost hear my screams of agony all over again.

"How long did they do this?"

"We were only there for a day and a half. They tortured me for nearly a full day of it but it damn well felt like near forever."

"That is horrible Clay! But why were they breaking a bone that was already broken?"

"If it was not for the damage they did to my leg then I would never have lost it."

"Are you saying that you did not lose your leg because of the accident?"

I sigh as the realization of what that day cost me comes back to me again. The way I looked at my mutilated leg that day and wondered how the hell the base doctor was going to fix it.

"Yes. I lost my leg from the way the men tortured me."

"Why did they not torture the other men?"

"I told them that I will take them to my platoon leader if they just take me and leave the others alone."

"But you weren't going to?"

"No of course not!"

"How did you get away then?"

"We did not. Some of the platoon came looking for us. We could hear them outside the jailhouse. We had no way to let them know we were inside."

"Why did you not shout for them?"

"We had guns to our heads, they would have shot us if we made a sound. But Johnny could not take for me to get hurt anymore so he shouted out to them."

"What happened Clay?"

I go dead silent as I replay that day, that very moment, over in my head. "They killed him. They put the gun against his head and blew him away right in front of us. He died so we could be saved."

"Were you saved then?"

"Yes. They took me straight to the helipad where I was airlifted to the hospital. I was in and out of pain for days not knowing what was going on around me."

"Is that when you woke up and realized they took your leg?"

"I never thought that the way they tortured me would have taken my leg. I thought they could just stick in a plate and I would be good to go again. But when I finally came by long enough that is when I saw they have taken off my leg just above where the bone pierced through my skin."

"Do you regret it?"

"Regret what Betty?"

"Becoming a Marine?"

"No. I will do it again if I had to choose it over. And if I had to live it again, I will still give my own life for my squad."

"You are very brave Clayton. I will make sure that we tell this story, the whole story."

"Are we done now?"

"Yes my son, I think that is enough."

"Please can you make sure I get a copy to send to Johnny's family?"

My father immediately adds to my request. "And we want to see it before you put anything on air or publish it."

"And," my mom says. "You make sure to know that this boy has a girlfriend. I want no damn meat fest going on outside my door."

"Hahaha, mom we can hand them off to Matty boy here."

"Yes!" Matty fist pumps in the air. "Can you imagine how busy I am going to be?"

I turn to Betty that is quietly sitting in shock. "Well if you don't need me anymore Betty. Mom, Dad, I am getting out of these blues now. Are you coming with me, Isabella?

"I. Uhm. I..."

My mom smiles as she waves Isabella off. "Go on, we are all grownups here. We use to Matty and his girls making noise."

"Mom!" I gasp and nearly fall off my chair. I am only changing!"

"I am only saying."

I take Isabella by the hand as we leave the lounge. Our bodies are still absorbing the shock that we experienced for the past hour. We both don't say a word. Only once I lock my bedroom door firmly behind us, does she speak.

"I am proud of you soldier. That took a lot to tell things like that like it is. And still, after all of that you only make Johnny the hero. You both are heroes. If it was not for you those other boys might be losing some part of their body as well. You are a good man Clayton Jackson."

"You want to tell me not even that shit scared you off?"

"You are going to have to do a lot better than that to scare me off soldier."

"Well come here and I can show you something else that might scare you off."

"Oh really. What else are you hiding soldier?"

"Before I show you, first there is something I have to tell you."