Bright and early the next morning Charlie and Shawn sat pensively waiting to appear before Col. Gilbert. To Shawn’s surprise the office was empty. He expected to meet a two or more hardnosed Lieutenants maybe a JAG Officer, however there was no one—just them and dead silence. Clearly a bad sign of what was to transpire. Shawn’s stomach turned in knots recognizing all that rest between them and jail time was a wall of accolades. He hadn’t slept a wink in preparation: triple checked his uniform for misalignments, spit shined his shoes, groomed himself to perfection. Still his nerves rattled. He would lose everything he’d worked for, all the years of being the perfect Airmen while serving his country would end in his dishonorable discharge. He couldn’t shake the thought from his head.


Charlie, on the other hand, sat in a Zen-like state; neither here nor there. Outwardly he was calm, cool, and collected however inside: he prayed he’d made the wrong choice in not contacting his mother…for Shawn’s sake. Having grown up around higher ranking brass, he knew their subtle ticks. He’d seen his fair share of disciplinary hearings and theirs hadn’t followed standard procedure. He had an unshakable gut feeling about their meeting—and hoped against hope he’d made the right choice.


They weren’t alone in their worry. Their entire group of friends came into the office early and awaited John’s phone call with news, good or bad. Tony checked the flight manifesto hourly, as long as their names appeared as passengers they were in good shape. Paula and the ladies snooped around the Major’s office attempting to eavesdrop on any confidential conversations therein. But the brass and the First Sergeant carried on as normal. To Paula, this was a bad omen; they wouldn’t intervene and Charlie and Shawn would hang. Tony called the housing manager, whom he’d befriended while in Saudi, to see when the guys were scheduled to checkout. He was told they’d leave on time. There was no continuity to the proceedings and even Tony began to worry.



“We’ll be served a BCD,” Shawn gravelly voice broke their silence.


“Big Chicken Dinner!” Charlie gave a short humorless laugh seeing Shawn wasn’t in the mood chitchat.


“Bad Conduct Discharge.”


“It could be worse. We could do time, maybe CC.”


Shawn pinched his bottom lip, a nervous habit of his. “Correctional Custody wouldn’t be nearly was bad as doing time in Eglin.”


“Gentlemen,” Col. Gilbert summoned.


The guys stood, made last second adjustments and marched to their doom. Col. Gilbert wasn’t exceptionally tall but his stoic nature more than made up for his vertical failings. He took a seat behind his desk and left Charlie and Shawn standing at attention: they stood straight, eyes forward, and chest out, knees locked. The years of managing the largest and politically visible bases in the Middle East shone on his stress worn ebony face.


“Rest,” Col. Gilbert said bringing the guys into position: their left foot moved shoulder width apart, hands placed behind their backs arms fully extended, right hand is placed inside the left with all fingers together and pointing rigidly downwards. Col. Gilbert sighed. “At Ease.”


They brought their arms to their sides, a more natural standing position allowing them eye contact.


“So you’re Peggy’s son,” The tension lines on Col. Gilbert relaxed to a smile. “I should’ve known it was you the moment I saw you.”


“Sir?” Charlie questioned respectfully.


“Peggy and I fought our way through the academy together. You’re mother is tough as nails and proud. She went through four years of pure hell—you can’t imagine what she’s dealt with. How is she?”


“Our last conversation was a week ago and she was fine, Sir.”


“Give her my best,” he sat back in his chair. “I saw your run in with Sgt. Gardner in the Chow Hall. You handled yourself well. I would have knocked him on his ass.”


The knot in Shawn’s stomach began to unravel.


“Thank you, Sir. If Sgt. Lowry hadn’t been there I may have done the same.”


“Sgt. Shawn G. Lowry,” Col. Gilbert turned his eye to Shawn. “The Booze Man.”


In a flash the knot tightened. “Yes, Sir.”


“This is your first offense?” He thumbed Shawn’s personnel record.


“Yes, sir.”


“Make it your last.” He closed file and addressed both of them. “What you did isn’t uncommon, reckless but not uncommon. I’ll sweep this incident under the rug. Have a safe trip home.” Col. Gilbert stood to excuse them.


“Thank you,” Shawn turned to leave.



Charlie stood firmly in place. “Sir, if you’re doing this for my mother’s sake, I’d rather take my punishment.”

“Damn it, you’re just like your mom! My decision is based on the fact that the guy who turned you in is an asshole! You’re ten times the Airmen he is—both of you are!” An exasperated look crossed Col. Gilbert’s face. “If they are gonna ask us to put our men and women in harms way in their defense: then our guys deserve to cut loose once in awhile. If you’re good enough to take a bullet for their country then you’re good enough to drink in it! We don’t need mousy men like Gardner watching our backs…we have plenty of problems from the outside.”


“Thank you, Sir. I’ll give my mom your greeting,” Charlie cracked a smile. Col. Gilbert’s rant was reminiscent of his mother’s.


“Thank you and I’ll be sure to throw Sgt. Gardner a Blanket Party once you’ve gone.”


Charlie laughed. “That won’t be necessary, Sir.”


“No, but it’ll be fun.”



Before they were out of the building Shawn called John and relayed the news. John immediately conference called Tony; he quickly ushered the group into a private office. Hearing Charlie’s voice sent Paula to tears. Paula, the audaciously strong one, finally broke down. Lisa marshaled everyone out and gave them privacy.


Charlie explained his decision to not to involve his mother: If they were going to be arrested they would have been without delay, not ordered to the Col’s office. Their suite hadn’t been raided. The Col. sent his closest executive with a handwritten letter not the Security Police. And the Col.’s office was empty, clearing his other exes of any knowledge of the meeting.


His decision had been a gamble, but well played. All those years of watching his mother and father in action paid off. With the scare behind him, Charlie was even more certain he’d ask Paula to marry him. While Shawn and Charlie finished packing, John weaseled them an earlier flight and they left almost immediately. There was a six hour layover in Germany, just enough time for Charlie to go ring shopping. In his assessment the one he’d purchased months before was inadequate, Paula deserved better for the hell she’d endured. He, John and Shawn trekked the streets and procured the perfect ring; a two and a half caret emerald cut set in platinum, and caught their flight home.


Charlie sat awake while the others slept, fingering the tiny ring box, excited rather than nervous, almost a euphoric peace. He was tired of gambling with their future and he was ready to settle down—with heavy heart, he wouldn’t reenlist. The uniformed service were in his blood but so was Paula and he wanted to give her the stable relationship she desired. There were plenty of civilian jobs in his field, he assured himself, they would be equally fulfilling. Pulling down the window shade he chuckled to himself…he had gone from being her “Mr. Fix-it” to her “Mr. Right”. Suffice it to say he had, on some level, known she was the one. No other woman could’ve wowed Peggy, withstood their separation or shouldered the ever-present threat of him being re-stationed.