Its the first school day of the year and trouble starts with a bang in the opening of the first class.
9 Trouble
The New Year was here and I wasn’t ready. Grumpily, I fell into my seat and thought, “They better be good to me today or I’m leaving.” My attitude was reflected in the solemn faces of others as they privately sought their desks. Nobody wanted to start the first class of the New Year. I wished that the soldier was back to excite us with his true-to-life stories.
I thought back to how last year had started: a severe cold windy storm, a missed bus and a wet walk to school. Fortunately, the storm did not repeat and I had caught the bus.
Hunched, pruned faced at his desk, Mr. Graves didn’t enjoy the New Year any more than the rest of us. He waited 10 minutes into the class period, until all were seated and settled before he raised his head. Rivulets of tears streamed into a pond collecting on his desk. A hush fell; even the constant squawkers lost their voices.
“As I left the house this morning, I received a call from Mr. Newton, U.S. Army Staff Sergeant John Newton’s father. It is with regret that I must load this on you, this first day.
“Four days after Christmas, John went on his first patrol after return to Afghanistan. The patrol was in the Panjshir Valley north of Kabul, the capital of Afghanistan. Seeing a wrecked car in the ditch, he and his crew plunged from their Humvee to aid passengers. The first passenger to be removed, a survivor who was literally wrenched from the vehicle through the broken windshield, was wandering around in a daze. He stepped on a land mine. John, knowledgeable of land mines, saw destruction coming if the passenger lifted his foot from the nipple. The blast would take out his entire crew and the passengers. The passenger stumbled off before John could reach him. John threw himself at the mine and covered it as it exploded. John’s forfeit saved the lives of his crew and passengers, although all were injured.
“Look at her! Grab her! She’s going to fall!” one of the students screeched, pointing at Corporal Carol.
Carol was swaying in her seat like a pendulum and as we spun to see her, she collapsed to her side on the floor.
“Sebastian, take off your sweatshirt and use it for a pillow,” Mr. Graves barked as he ran for the speaker phone on the wall to call the office.
“Girl fainted in 173. Need assistance,” he shouted.
A nurse and two students, carrying a stretcher, burst in within seconds. Corporal Carol was beginning to stir as they arrived. After the nurse waved smelling-salts in front of Carol’s nose, she sat up and was assisted to the stretcher. As Carol was carried out, the nurse parted with the words, “She will be alright in an hour. I’ll take her to the nurse’s station for the time being.”
With the news of the soldier’s death and witnessing Carol’s faint, we were all brooding. Mr. Graves could see and feel our agony. He squared his shoulders and announced,
“If you didn’t hear the nurse, Carol will be alright in an hour. As for plans for John, there will not be a funeral. The Puyallup Herald will announce details of the death. You will find the time and place of a memorial service in the article. You are all invited and are excused from school to go.”
“Would you stand for a moment of silence in honor of John and his sacrifice?”...
9 Trouble
The New Year was here and I wasn’t ready. Grumpily, I fell into my seat and thought, “They better be good to me today or I’m leaving.” My attitude was reflected in the solemn faces of others as they privately sought their desks. Nobody wanted to start the first class of the New Year. I wished that the soldier was back to excite us with his true-to-life stories.
I thought back to how last year had started: a severe cold windy storm, a missed bus and a wet walk to school. Fortunately, the storm did not repeat and I had caught the bus.
Hunched, pruned faced at his desk, Mr. Graves didn’t enjoy the New Year any more than the rest of us. He waited 10 minutes into the class period, until all were seated and settled before he raised his head. Rivulets of tears streamed into a pond collecting on his desk. A hush fell; even the constant squawkers lost their voices.
“As I left the house this morning, I received a call from Mr. Newton, U.S. Army Staff Sergeant John Newton’s father. It is with regret that I must load this on you, this first day.
“Four days after Christmas, John went on his first patrol after return to Afghanistan. The patrol was in the Panjshir Valley north of Kabul, the capital of Afghanistan. Seeing a wrecked car in the ditch, he and his crew plunged from their Humvee to aid passengers. The first passenger to be removed, a survivor who was literally wrenched from the vehicle through the broken windshield, was wandering around in a daze. He stepped on a land mine. John, knowledgeable of land mines, saw destruction coming if the passenger lifted his foot from the nipple. The blast would take out his entire crew and the passengers. The passenger stumbled off before John could reach him. John threw himself at the mine and covered it as it exploded. John’s forfeit saved the lives of his crew and passengers, although all were injured.
“Look at her! Grab her! She’s going to fall!” one of the students screeched, pointing at Corporal Carol.
Carol was swaying in her seat like a pendulum and as we spun to see her, she collapsed to her side on the floor.
“Sebastian, take off your sweatshirt and use it for a pillow,” Mr. Graves barked as he ran for the speaker phone on the wall to call the office.
“Girl fainted in 173. Need assistance,” he shouted.
A nurse and two students, carrying a stretcher, burst in within seconds. Corporal Carol was beginning to stir as they arrived. After the nurse waved smelling-salts in front of Carol’s nose, she sat up and was assisted to the stretcher. As Carol was carried out, the nurse parted with the words, “She will be alright in an hour. I’ll take her to the nurse’s station for the time being.”
With the news of the soldier’s death and witnessing Carol’s faint, we were all brooding. Mr. Graves could see and feel our agony. He squared his shoulders and announced,
“If you didn’t hear the nurse, Carol will be alright in an hour. As for plans for John, there will not be a funeral. The Puyallup Herald will announce details of the death. You will find the time and place of a memorial service in the article. You are all invited and are excused from school to go.”
“Would you stand for a moment of silence in honor of John and his sacrifice?”...
