Chapter 8: Back to the Salt Mines (Before Paradise was Found)

Charlie made the quest, the excursion, the journey, back to his base and checked in with the orderly room. He let the clerk, Staff Sergeant Sylvia Ellis, the cute little redhead that ran the joint, and his commander, know he was back. He’d called Sylvia again a few days before and let her know he was ending his leave early and that morning he’d be signing back in.

Colonel Paul Jackson didn’t mince words. He was a great squadron commander and one of the best pilots in the wing, and certainly the best in the Seventy-Seventh Fighter Squadron. “Compton, we’re one plane short of a full load. Any good explanation?”

“No, sir.”

“I didn’t think so. What do we do now? Order another one?”

“No, sir. Not for me, anyway. I’ve decided to put in my papers and find a new occupation.”

“As what, Charlie? A crop duster. A metro shuttle pilot. God knows you’ve got the qualifications for that one.”

“No, Colonel, actually, I want to become a hermit. That is my desire. I came into a bit of an inheritance, and I just want to go off and be by myself for a while.”

“Are you sure, Charlie? That’s quite a big step. We can really use you, regardless of your reckless regard for our resources.” He laughed. “By the way, no one even thinks about holding that against you, Charlie. There are a few pictures of what happened, and the only negative comment I heard was, ‘Damn, he lasted that long?’ That was your wing commander, by the way. He’s apt to try to talk you out of leaving.”

“I understand, Colonel, but I just see another horizon, and I want to explore it.”

“Fine, but Williston wants you in his office this afternoon. If I were you, I’d have lunch first. It’s gonna take a while and it’s not gonna be fun. Sergeant Ellis!” Sylvia came running in. “Take Major Compton over to the O-club for a burger and fries. If anyone says anything, tell them the deputy wing commander is waiting for you all. Williston will see you afterwards. He’s got some God-awful budget meeting with CINC ACC until fourteen hundred or so. Escort him at all times, Sergeant Ellis. He is not to get away. Understood, Sergeant?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it.”

“See that you do. Charlie, it’s been fun. Dismissed. The both of you! Dismissed.”

Once they had come to attention, saluted, turned an about face, and were in the outer office Sylvia told him, “Something is going on, but no one is talking. I know it’s not a bad thing, and no one is going to jail, since Force Protection wasn’t invited, but something big is afoot. You, sir, are in the pits.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, Charlie. Colonel Jackson knows I have a crush on you, whatever that’s worth, so he put me in charge of your sorry butt. All I know is I want one of those Mushroom and Swiss burgers. I’ve heard the lunch crew cooking at the O-club is awesome.”

“Thank you, Sylvia. If things were different...”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. I think so, but there’s more to it than that. I don’t think I’m alone in this world of mine. Let’s wait a couple of weeks then talk about it then, okay.”

“I can wait. I have been for a while now. Oh, Nancy called to see if you were actually dead, or if you made it out alive. I told her I was sorry to inform her that the Embassy in Jordan had called, and that you were just fine. I said if she hadn’t heard from you, it was by choice. I also told her we heard you were traveling back home in a Bentley. She called me a ‘Cunt’ and hung up the phone. I never did like her much.”