Put into Action

Four-star Marine Corps General and Joint Chiefs of Staff Chair, Bega Roylance ironed his uniform. His service Alphas, his Bravos, “Chucks,” and cammies all could’ve been serviced by a lance corporal or even a corporal. No. Instead, he got up at two in the morning and pressed all of his garments and affixed his rank insignia and awards and ribbons to his uniform. Then he ran. He wore his New Sweden University sweatshirt where he graduated with a degree in Strategic Studies. Now, in PT shorts, he ran three miles in nineteen minutes. He may have been fifty-eight, but he was no joke out there on the course. Like a cheetah sprinting on the Serengeti, Roylance shot down the last turn. He breathed.

Next, he showered and shaved his bald chestnut colored head and then his face. He dressed. He played a concerto in the background as he prepared for the day. He read Dennett Deaver's book on leadership called The Front Leads the Back. After a few chapters he placed a digital bookmark on his reader, turned off the speaker with his voice and headed out of the door.

He met with the president. She boasted bronze skin and ebony hair. Their meetings always seemed cordial even amicable. Today was different.

“General,” President Sonata Hillyer said stretching out her hand.

“Madam President. Good Morning,” Roylance said. They each had a seat.

“Is it a good morning? You already know that yesterday there was another firefight that claimed the lives of forty Marines and thirty-six soldiers. Dozens more received significant wounds,” President Hillyer said with no hesitation. “I know that this is a matter for you to explain to the American public just what this war means. There have to be sacrifices. There have to be those that get the wrong end of the muzzle. What I want you to ensure of is that there is a hero in all of this.”

“Madam?”

“Don’t play coy with me, General,” the president said in a low, icy tone.

“I’m aware that the Marines finished the fight and I have intel on a few corporals who should receive Silver Stars and Navy Crosses. But one sergeant....”

“Sergeant Wickham. He should get the Medal of Honor for his selflessness.”

The General bit his tongue.

“Is there a problem, General Roylance?”

“No, Madam President.”

“Good. I think that there is a place for families to grieve in Dover, Delaware. There will be a few boxes coming back with hardly anything in them.” Silence licked at the ears of the president and general. Then Roylance spoke.

“Madam, with the number of casualties, I think that it would be best to show that the Marines and soldiers fought valiantly. Yet there were some reports of cowardice on our….”

“You won’t be able to voice that to Americans. Every United States personnel over there showed bravery in the face of hell. There’s absolutely no room for such talk.”

The general’s tongue almost issued a tiny spout of blood.

“I understand that madam….”

“Then you’ll be able to address the secretaries and the commandant, no?”

“Yes, madam.”

Roylance raised with the president and grabbed his cover and left the meeting room. He listened to more The Front Leads the Back on his wireless audio device during the trip to where the other top military men and women met. It was an all star affair. The lowest ranking person in the room was Brigadier General Alice Turnham. She was also the youngest in the general field at forty seven years old. They all looked at Roylance with a light shining on him like he was preparing a performance on the Broadway stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re at a precarious point in our war-fighting capabilities. Yesterday’s events should serve as a chance for us to refocus our energies and to present the American people with a picture that we are winning. With the efforts of courageous men and women like Sergeant Wickham, we will be able to carry our troops to ever greater heights.” His mind clanged. His tongue felt like the Atacama. He sipped from a glass of water. He shook his head. There were some murmurings amongst the top brass in the room.

“I have to say this. The actions of Sergeant Wickham and Corporals Wagner and Sisto were not sacrifices. They were not selfless. They didn’t put country before self. In fact, their every move was just as selfish and prideful as the American flag being raised.”

The Secretary of the Navy walked onto the stage and pushed the mic away. “Bega, what are you doing?”

“Jack, I’m telling the truth. It’s high time for this country and the world to not only change their language but the intent behind such talk. That starts with us. Almost eighty men and women went down in that goddamn desert and still more will get the Purple Heart with breath in their lungs. I’m not going to go on with this charade that selflessness is a virtue.”

“But, Bega…..”

“No, not this time. You may have a seat now, Jack.”

Secretary John Parnell backed away with slow and deliberate steps.

Roylance grabbed hold of the microphone.

“I’m telling you all that we need to eighty six all of this garbage about unselfishness and duty and self-sacrifice. Any of us in this room would jump on a grenade for the other man or woman. How is that a sacrifice? By definition, a sacrifice is giving up a greater value for a lesser one. So why do we continue to use such language? The proper terms are selfishness, self-interest, and egoism. We ought to employ these words in garrison and show them in the middle of a firefight. To the families of those nearly eighty dead, I say that it was not their sacrifice but their recognition of honor put into action.”

Murmurs turned to a din of voices amongst the generals, admirals, and secretaries.

“There will be silence!” Roylance said, finally.

The room became as quiet as the inside of a casket holding a corpse.

“Now, you may disagree with me but I am right and I know that I am right. For warriors like Sergeant Wickham, I say that he shouldn’t be humble and that he shouldn’t brag. But have a quiet sense of self-esteem that no man or woman can steal from him. Not every Soldier, Sailor, Airman, Coast Guardsman or Marine will be courageous in the moment of truth. We must remember that they should be seen as cowards and uplift the ones with the mettle to do battle. Sergeant Wickham’s selfish behavior permitted him to be brave. And that is what we must instill in the warriors to follow us.”

Royceland stepped down from the microphone and wiped the sweat from his brow and head. Everyone in the room leapt to their feet. He ventured out of the room, took a seat, and listened to his audiobook.