When Mike’s son Wayne was born, their life had taken on a whole new dimension, which he and Sherry gladly embraced. He was a sweet kid and smart as a whip. He was so very proud of his dad, and loved seeing the various ceremonies of military life. He became so excited to see soldiers marching with rifles, bands playing, the sound of artillery and taps on the bugle, at bed time.
Wayne was nine years old, when Mike was wounded. The army offered to fly Sherry to Germany to see her husband. He needed time to gain some strength, mentally and physically, before being flown to Washington D.C., where he would begin his extensive therapy at Walter Reed Army Medical Center.
His wife had her mother stay at their house with Wayne, while she was flown to Germany to be with Mike. Sherry told their son daddy was hurt and needed time to recover. Little Wayne’s concern was written on his face, as he asked, “Is daddy hurt bad?”
They didn’t believe in lying to the boy. She broke down in tears and told him, “Yes honey, daddy’s hurt really bad. But he’s going to live and when he finally comes home, he’ll be with us forever. So, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
Wayne began crying, as soon as he saw his mother’s distress. After hugging and kissing her son, he calmed down, and then asked, “Mommy, is daddy a hero? Did he do good?”
“Oh yes, baby. Daddy is definitely a hero and he did very good.”
Three weeks after Sherry arrived in Germany, the doctor declared Mike well enough to be flown back to the States. Sherry went on to Fort Campbell, Kentucky to be with Wayne. They had talked extensively about the timing for telling their son about the seriousness of Mike’s injuries. She felt it would be best if she explained it to their son, before he made the trip to Washington to see his dad and Mike agreed.
Wayne didn’t take it well at first. In the past, whenever Mike was home, they had a very active life together, and male horseplay was always a part of it. They tossed baseballs and footballs back and forth, and Mike would chase his son around, as they laughed and enjoyed each other’s company.
The boy realized those moments were lost. Sherry assured him that there were plenty of other things they could do together. But, she could see the doubt in the lad’s expression.
By the time Sherry and Wayne came to visit him at the hospital, Mike had begun some modest therapy and his facial scaring had begun to heal nicely. There was still a lot of redness on the left side of his face, and Mike had the doctor explain to his son that it would clear up, with time.
But, there was no hiding the obvious truth about his legs. It would be some time before his stumps would be healed enough to try out temporary prosthetics. Upon learning it would be a while, before his father could walk on his own, Wayne insisted on seeing the raw stumps for himself.
He bravely told his father, “I want to see your legs dad. I won’t cry, I promise.”
So, reluctantly, Mike pulled away the sheet, revealing the remains of his once powerful legs. The ends were bandaged and when they came into view, Wayne was confronted with the reality of his father’s missing limbs.
In a quivering voice, Wayne said, “Gee whiz, dad, their different lengths. It looks weird.” Then his son, the apple of his eye, began to cry.
The poor kid apologized, as tears ran down his face. “I’m sorry, dad. I know I promised not to cry, but I can’t help it. I want you to be normal again.”
Mike felt so guilty, as though all of this was his fault.
By then, all three of them were in tears, as Sherry said, “Sweetie, daddy is normal. He’s still the same man who loves you and he’s going be able to play with you again. He’ll just do it differently.”
Up to that point, Mike thought he had a handle on his emotions. He had cried alone and with Sherry on several occasions, as he went through recovery. But nothing was as emotionally painful as seeing his son fall apart. He felt as though he had let the boy down. On one level, he knew that wasn’t the case. On another level, he couldn’t avoid feeling guilty about it.
After four surgeries and many months of physical therapy, Mike was eased out of the Army. He had enough retirement points to collect a decent amount when he got older. But, until then, he and his wife would get by on his disability pay and her salary.
Sherry had been devastated by the severity of his wounds. For the first few weeks, whenever she came to see him as he progressed from one surgery to the next, she openly wept. She had always been his rock and it seemed so strange to him that, now, he had to be the one to hold her together. It was so unlike her, yet so like him to be aware of his responsibility to the family and to be the rock for her and Wayne. He knew if he showed confidence and strength, they would follow his lead.
Finally, she told him she felt so sorry for him. That he was always such a powerful manly man and she knew how that image was important to him. And now he was in this horrible condition and it wasn’t going to get any better. He held her in his arms and her weight was painful for him to bear, but he didn’t complain. As she wept, she he told him how much she loved him. She sobbed for a quite a while, but that was the last time. Once she finally had it out of her system, she reverted to the rock he had known for most of their married life.
Where his physical therapy was concerned, she was as bad as any drill instructor he had ever seen. There was no stopping her and she certainly wasn’t about to let him give up, not that he would. She pushed him hard, never allowing him to get away with limited exercise.
Once they got back home, in Kentucky, she gave him a set of chores to do around the house and if he didn’t do them correctly, she chastised him harshly.
Two years after the disaster in Iraq, she announced, “It’s time you went back to school and got your degree. You’d been pecking away at it for years and now you have the time to finish it up. So, you’re going to get off your ass and learn some new skills, Sergeant First Class Hurst.
Three years later, he had two degrees, one in computer science and one in history. His only reason for getting the history degree was his love of the subject. Mike was fascinated by ancient politics and how it affected the various militaries of the time. But, it was the computer science degree that got him a decent job at a company that gave vets hiring preference.
While he was never going to be a wiz kid at computer code, he did have other talents that the Vice-President of development had recognized, specifically his leadership ability. Eight months on the job and he received a promotion to supervisor and a nice raise.
There was some resentment toward him, because other, younger men and women had been there longer. It didn’t bother him at all. As a former drill instructor, he knew what it was like to be hated. These people didn’t really hate him. They were merely jealous of him and wanted his chair for themselves.
He set about reorganizing the workload. He noticed that his predecessor had people doing what they did best. He believed in that; but it was a short term solution to getting the job done. In the long run, when people left for other jobs or were promoted out of the department, it left a gap in production. So, he had people periodically doing procedures that weren’t their strong suit. There was a lot of gripping about those moves and one guy went over his head to the VP.
Mike had expected that and had warned his boss that when it happened he shouldn’t be surprised. Eventually, the entire department would be stronger and more flexible for the cross training and experience these people were receiving.
It took time, but gradually his subordinates began to appreciate his methods. When a few of them received promotions, it was proof of his successful approach and each time they thanked him for the push.
When he was promoted again, it came as big surprise. He hadn’t sought advancement and when he told his boss that, the man told him, “Mike, you’re one of the best men I’ve every seen at guiding people to success. We need a man like you at a higher level to help some of the younger, upcoming executives to see how it should be done. Your natural leade
rship skills are invaluable.”
Sherry was so proud of him and he felt so happy for her. That promotion was a vindication of her hard work, as well, as he recovered physically and emotionally from his wounds. The love they shared went both ways at all times. So, when one of them was happy, it made the other one happy.
That was the year Wayne entered the US Naval Academy. He wanted to be a marine pilot. Mike teased him about not going to West Point and pursuing a career in the Army. But he wasn’t really upset about it. In his eyes, Wayne could do no wrong.
He and Sherry were so proud of him. He was such a good and loving son. During his four years at Annapolis, the boy’s hard study paid off for him. He graduated sixth in his class and went straight into flight training, down in Pensacola, Fla. Like Mike, his son was a natural career military man.
Eventually, Wayne found a beautiful girl who had stolen his heart, as well as Sherry’s and Mike’s. His late wife often said, “That girl is perfect for Wayne. She accepts being a Marine’s wife and keeps the home fires burning when he’s on deployment.”
A few years later, his loving wife, Sherry, was diagnosed with cervical cancer. She’d put up one hell of a fight and he was with her every inch of the way. But the damned disease was too far along, when it was discovered. Despite all the improvements of modern medicine, she lost her fight.
Wayne came home on leave and they comforted each other as best they could. That was the last time he and Wayne had gone fishing together. The fished, they drank and they cried. Life could be so good, and yet so cruel, at times.