Marine Corps Stories: The Contributing Factor

The screen showed the truth. Fifty-two years had passed since the actions in jungles thousands of miles away from the United States. Everything said Medal of Honor. The fight, not the sacrifice or selflessness of the recipients, was what prompted then Marine Second Lieutenant Azar Sam to sit up even straighter in her seat to read the story.

Then Captain Heston Vale, black and slight build, but scrappy, commanded his men on a rescue of American prisoners of war (POW). In the process, he sustained enemy fire, and a daisy-chained claymore explosion preceding the barrage of rounds. Vale and some of his men took shrapnel, but pressed forward to complete the mission. Even more enemy fire rained down on them like lead showers. Still, they continued their advance.

Vale and his men eventually found the POWs, and called for a helicopter to take them all to safety. Azar went to the chow hall.

“So, the story ends right there, right?” Azar asked.

“I suspect it does,” First Lieutenant Wallace Quinto said. They both received their food.

“‘No, you see forty-two years later, Vale was awarded the Silver Star. Officials awarded some of his men the Navy Cross and Bronze Star as well, but they’re dead.”

“But he isn’t….” Quinto said.

“Right.”

“So what do you plan to do?”

“I’m taking this information to the higher ups to push for a Medal of Honor citation in Lieutenant Colonel Vale’s name.”

“You think it was a ‘black’ thing that he didn’t get it when he was a captain?”

“It’s a contributing factor. I mean racism is still alive amongst the ranks. I’m sure white generals and other officers couldn’t give a damn about his skin color now. ‘We’re all green’ and all. But his actions point to a man of courage and character. He had to sustain blatant racism then, but he followed through on his plan to be a man of class and dignity despite the prejudice.”

Quinto looked around him. “How old is he?”

“Vale? He’s eighty-three.”

“Wasn’t he featured on one of those classic recruiting ads?”

“You’re exactly right. I read deeper into his life, and it showed he was featured in the commercial for the Corps a few years after his actions in the jungle.”

“I can see him getting it. This president we have now has to do everything in his power to prove he’s not a racist. So, he’ll probably suggest the upgrade to the folks in the Pentagon without hesitation.”

The two company Marines turned back to the work that had been up on the screen. Azar found it blank.

“What the hell?” she said.

Another second lieutenant named Dayton Keyton had been using her computer to browse the Internet. He’d somehow deleted the files from the computer.

“Keyton, goddamnit, what did you do?”

“I just used the computer to look up a truck I want to get.”

“You erased all the data I’d saved on here in the process. I should report you to Major Callen.”

“I’m sorry. There’s got to be a way to retrieve those documents. They’re probably hard copies somewhere in these file cabinets, I don’t know.”

“How were you even commissioned? How did you even make it to college?”

“It’s not my fault, okay. I just clicked away from the screen and I thought it would come back up, but it didn’t. Oops.”

“I don’t know if you noticed or not, but in the Marines, ‘oops’ is a sign of a defect, a flaw. How do you plan to remedy this situation?” Azar asked.

Keyton went to the computer. He put in his username and password. He pulled up the documents. He sighed.

“You’re fortunate. I was going to let Callen come down on you like hail.”

“I appreciate that you didn’t.”

“And I would appreciate it if you’d move out of my way.”

Azar took control of the computer.