THE FOXHOLE: CHAPTER I - BARRY & HOWIE

THE FOXHOLE 

A Short Story by Dylan S Le Maire

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IN THE PICTURE: 
Barry is on the left, Howie on the right.

Barry and Howie were good dudes. Barry was from inner-city Chicago and Howie was from rural western Kentucky, near Owensboro. They had enlisted in the Marines at the same time, did boot camp together in California, and then wound up being shipped in the same unit to Afghanistan.

Over the years in the Marines, partly because of the nature of the service but also because of them...they had forged a close bond. A friendship that had served both of them well. Barry had even gone home with Howie the last few Christmases to be with his family since Barry had none of his own left. As soon as Howie had heard that Barry had no one, he wouldn't hear of him staying at base alone. For his part, Barry gave his entire months allotment to Howie so he could buy presents for his family.

These were the kind of dudes who never complained nor bitched. Both always saw the bright side of things, the silver lining stuff, they never whined and were an inspiration to everyone around them. No matter what.

They were always together, talking or watching tv or taking walks in the early evening inside the base. They played pool and cards, and sometimes just sat on one of the most uncomfortable couches EVER in the rec hall...LOL, just being together, sometimes talking but not always. Each others company seemed to be enough for them. But whoever happened along, they would brighten and that person would be in for it. 

Sometimes they would be found sleeping, usually leaning up against each other...purring softly, and whoever found them would tiptoe out for fear of waking them.

Being in the Marines is NOT easy and it IS easy to 
become exhausted both by the work and by the 
frequent boredom.

AND IT IS ALMOST ALWAYS FRIGHTENING, although good Marines shrug off the fear...at least on the outside.

Barry and Howie were, as I said, always together...and could be found hugging each other whenever one or the other knew the other needed one, and because of that, and their constant being together, there were some in the unit 
that maybe...thought...that, well...you know.

This by now was post-don't ask don't tell, but...not everyone does...still. Maybe? Maybe NOT? Nobody quite knew and they didn't question. Nobody's business more than one said. If their buddies were together? 

Together and happy?

"All that matters, mates. That's ALL that matters,"
 one of the officers noted one day...after they had gone past and were out of earshot.

Barry and Howie never knew of any of this of course, and wouldn't have cared if they did. They were just two Marines dudes making it day to day the best they could...with each other.

But although there was always a bit of speculation, Barry and Howie were both straight. Not homophobic but straight...and they would prove it sometimes on shore leave when they would go bar-hopping and girl seeking. Each had gay friends back home but no. Not for them, they both allowed at times when they had talked about it. Friendship was enough for them... 

AND IT DID SEEM TO BE. Rocks they were, friends and moral support and bulwarks to all who knew them and definitely to each other. Throughout all the hell and horror they must have seen and the fear they must have felt...life just went on for Barry and Howie...comforting each other and others when needed and being solid and even-tempered ALL the time.

It was just over four years in the military and almost that long in Afghanistan and multiple tours of duty when one night they were out on maneuvers with their unit and were ambushed. "It came out of nowhere," one of the others said later, and it was FIERCE.

ALL NIGHT LONG they all battled and fought like the brave young soldiers they were but by near daybreak Barry and Howie found themselves separated from the rest of the unit, pinned down, and both were pretty sure this was gonna be IT.

At daybreak the Allies finally got the upper hand and squelched the Taliban they had been fighting throughout the night and a sense of deep relief washed over everyone until...

When it came time to return to base, suddenly they realized Barry and Howie were missing and everyone began to spread out and search, combing the area...hoping and praying for the best while fearing the worst. They yelled and hollered and screamed...
with NO response.

They searched for over 2 hours until FINALLY one of the unit commanders discovered a foxhole dug into the side of a small hill and went in to investigate. When he came out, he was beside himself, tears streaming down his cheeks and almost unable to talk.

Between gulps of air and sobbing he finally began to get out what he had found. Beside himself with the grief that would ultimately earn him a discharge.

He found Barry and Howie in the very back of the hole. Each had been shot once in the head at point-blank range. But as bad as that was...and he lost it again.

The shock was overwhelming EVEN WITH all that they had seen. All that they had endured, these Marines. Far from home, young, and going through stuff NOBODY should EVER have to go through. But THESE were their own. 

It is said that there are no athiests in a foxhole. 
Too true, 
but something else too.

The young officer barely 20 himself caught himself 
and blurted...

"GUYS, they were HOLDING EACH OTHER, TIGHT...and they were kissing when they died. They had to have known this was the end and neither wanted the other to die feeling alone and unloved...and THEY DIDN'T."

SOB.

"They were hugging so tight it was almost hard to tell there were two bodies and it was almost as if in death they could finally express what they hadn't really been able to in life."

SOB

THEY JUST NEEDED TO HOLD AND BE HELD,
and at that point, he lost it completely and the company medic took him back to the medical unit at the compound.

 Everyone just stood, staring at each other...and virtually ALL were crying. Big hardcore tough as nails MARINES,

dissolved into the tears and horror of tremendous grief.

They had lost more than a couple of companions today. They had lost a part of themselves.

THERE ARE NO ATHIESTS IN A FOXHOLE.

THERE ARE NO HOMOPHOBES EITHER.

Every year now, as many as can of the men there that day travel back to Afghanistan...there to grieve for their lost pals, to tell stories, to hug...and to pay homage to two brave Marines who paid dearly for their country and maybe for their love too. These soldiers still stand by that foxhole and cry. They hang on to each other and
just fucking bawl like babies. 

Some of them do realize that as much as they cry for Barry and Howie, they are also grieving for ALL who have died in Afghanistan and Iraq too.

These were two beloved dudes to them all...and even now you can feel the grief and the sense of loss. HELL, they all started CHEERING that day when they started bringing out Barry and Howie's bodies on the gurney, still hugging, still kissing...and that group started CHEERING.

High-fiving and CHEERING, and SALUTING. Crying. 

What made it worse was when someone saw and realized that Barry had been shot first...and Howie had leaned over his buddy to try to shield him, take the bullet himself. There were still the tracks of his tears on Howie's cheeks as he cried for his friend. Still glistening.

First one soldier and then one by one each knelt down beside the gurney and began to stroke their arms and their cheeks. One guy laid his head down on Howie's chest...and just grieved.

Some kissed them, all cried. 
Not little gulps but flat out SOBBING.

It was REALLY a sight to behold.

22 years old and a long way from home with no loved ones near to hold and comfort them except each other.

But they died for their country AND WITH the person they loved most. Everyone there that day is convinced that Barry and Howie are up in Heaven...holding each other and being THERE what they couldn't find the peace to be HERE.

NO, there are NO homophobes in a foxhole...

but WHY does it take DEATH to create LOVE 

and breathe LIFE into MEN.

THE FOXHOLE

by Dylan S Le Maire

Copyright © 2014

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED