2021-02-21 - Coffee, Vets, Combat, And The Veil

Well, at least it isn't a bar. Joe's at one of the tables, tapping busily away on his laptop. He's in a long-sleeve t-shirt and old jeans, grinning at something on the screen. There's some ridiculous concoction in an enormous mug beside him - whipped cream clearly visible. Apparently he subscribes to the idea that coffee is liquid dessert.

Looking as if he may have actually had a decent evening of sleep under his belt despite that last minute of covering for another guy. Walking in, Devlin makes his way to the counter. Of course, unlike Joseph, for him coffee is merely a conduit for caffeine. Black coffee along with a couple of pastries for the man. Once all is in hand, he turns from the counter, "Morning Joseph. Sky didn't fall it, so must be a good morning." He makes his way towards the tables, moving so not to spill the sacred brew of morning.

The sailor glances up, and then grins at him. "Mornin'. And that sounds like a good benchmark for a day in Gray Harbor. Quiet night last night? I don't know how you do it here. I mean, the job you do is tough enough in a normal town, and this ain't nothin' like a normal town." He pushes out a chair at his own table with a booted foot in invitation.

"Being Airborne and put four tours on top of that tend to warp a man's perceptive. Just another day to me in Rod Serling's vision of nuts and karma." Devlin chuckles a bit and settles having accepted the invitation. "I accept the strange and manage not to deep dive into bottles by the case like a few have. I'm still feeling slightly off from that.. donation, I guess we can call it. How are things going for you?"

"You make it sound like givin' blood," Joe's voice is rueful. "That's kinna how it feels. Like I'm weak an' tired after, but it was worth it. Now, not all that long ago, I had someone take some of my shine in exchange for somethin' else. Gave me back memories I'd lost." And even though the coffee shop's warm and well-lit, he shudders....and the smile fades. A last glance at the laptop screen, a clatter of keys, and then he's folding it up and setting it aside. "How.....how old were you when you first knew about the shine?"

Devlin takes a long sip of his coffee before he answers, "I think when I first realized strange shit was happening but didn't admit or acknowledge it, was during my first tour.. may be nineteen or twenty. But honestly, I was about twenty six when I couldn't BS myself any longer. Still ignored it.. or tried to. Moving here, well, rubbed my nose in it." He then takes a bite of a pastry.

There's that furrow between his brows, and he picks up the mug as if in need of the comfort and warmth it offers. Joe nods, lazily. "What was it like, when you first realized it?" There's that almost uneasy note in his voice....like trying to look at the subject directly has him off-balance. "Do you remember the situation? And how do you perceive the power? For me, it's visual, a little audio. For Rosencrantz, it's music, for instance."

Hmmm... as Devlin sips on his coffee. "Just didn't want this guy to die on me. IED put a lot of shrapnel into his leg. It was bad. Controlling the bleeding was hell. It was as if I could at one moment see some of the bleeders through all the blood and flesh. It was just so much damage and I kept hoping the damage was not as bad as I thought. There was this moment when it felt as if I was willing some of it to just not bleed or connect." The surgeon later told me that she was pretty sure it should have been worse.. the guy was lucky.

That confession makes him smile - a little curl of his lip. "I'm glad it was a good thing, for you, when it happened. And obviously your patient, too. I heal a little bit, a very little bit. For me it feel like....water currents against my skin, almost. Like I'm helping something flow back into place."

Devlin says, "I told myself afterward it was just the heat. That, I survived that patrol feeling and the exhaustion just over takes your ass to the point, Jesus could show up and you'd be like.. Hi dude, aren't you a little early to the party?" Devlin sips his coffee, "The TK stuff, I just imagine I am there doing it."

Wheezing laughter from him at that. "Man, right? Like, I was never any kinna ground forces, but I got downed over Afghanistan nearly twenty years ago, real early inna war. Only guys anywhere near me was a bunch of Marines. They pulled me outta a tree, but I was wounded.....and we had Taliban all over us like ants on a picnic. So....I know what it's like to drag my ass up and down those mountains. It's unreal, isn't it? Nothin' in civilian life makes you t ired like that."

Devlin says, "Only one thing worse.. NTC. And they do not go easy on the light fighters.. your up against an MMR. We did pretty good. Though some guys from Bravo got in trouble for stealing enemy vehicles.." He grins a bit, "Stupid NTC engagement rules." He sighs a bit and gets a bit sober in tone, "But when I deployed, three rules. One, good men will die. Two, Doc can't save everyone. Three, Doc will go through hell to break rules one and two." He takes a breath and pauses over some coffee, easy to see in his expression a lot of truth in the last rule for him. "Glad you had a good corpsman to take care of you that day."

"I nearly didn't make it, and a lotta good men did not come back," His voice is gentle, but there's a tightness there. Like even now he has to choke back tears. "I lost my backseater, who was a good buddy. And some Marines. It's a hateful thought, that men died for me, to go get me. I mean....we didn't go down 'cause of somethin' I did, it was equipment failure during a bombing run, but....you keep thinkin' you coulda done somethin' different. But yeah, the Navy corpsman did real good work."

Devlin nods, "Sorry about your backseater. Never easy being the one that comes back." He grunts, "Bad gear.. and out of your control." He takes a breath, "We don't leave anyone behind. Those Marines knew what they were doing and the possible price. Been a few times, many of us would get up to go back out to help guys pinned down somewhere. Didn't matter if they were Jarheads, Legs, Canadians, or some other part of the team. We went out to get them and bring them home."

The blue eyes are suspiciously bright, and he looks down into his cup, as if he might find an answer there, lips tight. But he forces himself to look up again. "Yeah," he says, mildly. "Does a hell of a lot to erase interservice rivalry, don't it? When it all comes down to it...." A beat, and he forces himself to change the subject. "So, uh, what shift do you usually work? You always work the same one?"

Devlin nods, "Same team. No, shifts rotate mostly. Though we do pull some twenty four hour shifts too. Just depends on manning."

He blows out a breath at that. "I don't know how you do it. Even when I was in the Navy, aviators have their sleep protected. We're required to have at least eight hours to rest each day. And now you're in a civilian life, and they still got you out at all hours, eh?" Joe looks.....it isn't quite pity, but it's close.

Devlin says, "There are mandated rest requirements for us Paramedics. I don't mind the twenty fours. I know how to get short sleep and most don't. So I survive it better than the others. We have more EMTs than Paramedics, so more pressure on us to be available." He sips his coffee, "I left because at E7, no more going into the field. Just an Administrator at that point. Not my style. Granted.. the fate still awaits me in the guard. But I can deal with that, having this job.""

His grin is reluctant. "I hear that. I was lucky to transfer when I did, 'cause they don't keep you up in fighters when you get too long in the tooth....and I didn't fancy teachin'. We actually got to play around in trainers a lot, to keep our skills sharp. Man, who wants to fly a desk? Sure as hell not me."

Devlin says, "I still jump. But the civilian places are very fair weather. Paranoid about rougher conditions. And just try to talk a place into a good night jump. Hell, I had the state troopers pull me over about 7 month's ago over it. They were going to drab my ass in on a 72 hour eval at the hospital. Once I showed them my ID and my 82nd Association card.. they let me off with a warning to dial it down." He snorts, "If flying a desk is soo desirable.. why aren't the new guys straight out of the academy not screaming to fly them."

He laughs, softly. "I've done civvy skydiving. But not the real hard stuff like y'all. Ideally, I bring down the plane I'm in, y'know? Right? One of the carriers I was on, I flew with the Admiral. He was an aviator, and he sure as fuck wasn't gonna let 'em keep him out of the cockpit. Had some real good talks with him on that front. They couldn't keep him at his desk."

Devlin says, "Sounds like a blast flying with a star.. I did a few jumps with Field Grade Brass.. Corp Commander on one bird. Funny.. on that stick, I swear it was two staff, one Whiskey.. two more.. and another Whiskey." He laughs, "I can't imagine why that happened."

"Everybody got to cover their ass where the brass is concerned, no matter what branch you served in," The sailor's voice is rueful. "I mean, it makes sense. God knows I was sweatin' bullets whenever I went up with the Admiral . I think it did my career some good, though."

A bit of a chuckle over his coffee, "I'd think so. Do your job good in front of brass, they notice. Me these days.. it is that thank you from a family member that I kept someone alive to reach the hospital, buying them the best chance on the table." Devlin smiles, "And yeah, on my own time.. I do visit some of those I rescued later. See how they are doing. Doc McCloud does pretty well it seems according to my patients."

"That's good to know, man. You'll never have any doubt 'bout the difference you made in the world," Something almost envious in the sailor's voice. "I miss it. Not just flight, but bein' part of the whole big thing. For all that it's good to be at liberty, go where I list when I want to.....that sense of belonging was real precious."

Devlin says, "Yeah, I miss it too at times. Nothing like the feeling of brotherhood you get with those you serve with. Especially those that have seen combat with you. Trust me, when we were pinned down, did not matter if it was the warthogs, gunships, or any other bird dumping it all over the guys that have you pinned.. you were grateful. Most times we never knew who it was that pulled our ass out of the fire.. I did buy a few pilots drinks at airports and some clubs."

"Exactly," he says, and his voice is gentle. "Much as I used'a make fun of the Air Force.....I shut my mouth real damn quick when we had some A-10s show up, take out some guys that had us pinned down. Never gave 'em any grief since, not after that."

Devlin says, "I used to use that 40mm firing as a ring tone down in LA. The vets loved it.. everyone else.." He chuckles, "the reactions varied and I got a talking to about using a ring tone that could scare kids.." He rolls his eyes as he finishes the last of his pastries. "As if... just more of that PC BS people keep trying to spoon feed in politics and news."

"Could scare kids?" The idea makes Joe blink. "That doesn't make any sense. A kid's not gonna know what that noise is, 'less he's seen footage on youtube. I mean, long as you don't have it turned up too loud, but hell...." He shakes his head.

Devlin shrugs, "I didn't get it either at the time. Glad I don't.. My brain would be in bad shape if I did." He grins a bit over the last of his coffee. "So.. got some memories back. Hope they were good ones."

Which has Joe pausing, for a long moment. "Honestly, no, they weren't," he says, quietly. "There's a place on the other side of the Veil, an asylum. I was there for a while, and it was pretty awful. To make matters worse.....after I got out, when I tried'a think about it, it would ruin other memories. It was like....some kinna magical Alzheimer's. Scared the hell out of me, feelin' my brain rot. But.....I made a bargain with someone. Gave up my shine for a while, like we just did, to be able to access all those memories without losin' others."

Devlin nods, "I heard about it. Sounded like a place to avoid. Someone once hinted I could get a job there. Atleast that is what I think they were suggesting. No thanks.. not my scene." He hmms, "I can see why you would want to fix that.. penalties or no. I think you and I have been through enough that we understand how important our good and bad memories to ourselves are."

The older man's face is grim, as he nods. "Exactly. I don't want anyone takin' that from me. Who am I, but what I done and where I been?" His voice is low, and he looks as if he'd say more....but then his phone goes off. An actual call, to his apparent shock. And then he glances up. "Man, I'm sorry, I gotta take this. But it was good talkin' to you....and i'm glad to see what we went through recently didn't mess you up too bad."

Devlin nods, "Catch you later.. going to attempt to enjoy some time off."