February 18, 1984
830 AM
Oyster Bay Cove, NY
The woman looked at her husband. "You don't have to go. You're on medical leave until the 1st. They can't force you to come there. You're a brand-new lieutenant colonel, for God's sake, you're not CINC-SAC."
I looked at her for about 30 seconds...how do you deal smoothly with a situation you prayed to God would never come up? "Love, you know I have to go. The leg's fine, the doctor's cleared me, I have a job to do, and the DC personally asked me if I could come back early."
"To do what? To go there and be blown up? And die? What about us? Do the girls and I mean so little to you that...God', I'm sorry, sweetheart. I should know better than to say that. It's just...I don't want to go through this alone."
"Hopefully there won't be anything to go through, love. And you won't be alone...you'll be at the lodge with my parents."
"If you honestly think nothing will happen, then why are you evacuating us? Why can't we stay here and use the house shelter?"
"You know why...God forbid the worst happens, this place will get the fallout from NYC...and they're going to get plastered, love. To say nothing of the fact that they might hit the Grumman Aircraft plants out in Bethpage...and here on the North Shore you're way too close to the targets on the Connecticut shoreline...to say nothing of what if one of those warheads misses and hits even closer to here. You could hole up in the shelter with the girls for a month, only to come out here to die. I want to be able to do my job knowing you and the girls are as safe as possible in this Godforsaken time...and that's the hell out of here. NOW, before it's too late. Jason will be here to pick up you and the girls in an hour."
The horn outside. "Sweetie, that's my ride. I have to go." I stand there, looking for the last time at the face of the woman I love, who's given me four children, and whom I've spent the last 15 years with. One last kiss..."Give the girls my love again. Hopefully I'll see you in a few days." I don't believe that. I know she doesn't either. But it enables both of us to get out of the situation in one piece...and looking at me from behind she can't see the tears in my eyes. Walking out the front door of my house, I see Corporal Hitchens there, with the ride that will get me to my flight to Omaha...to the Hole...to my grave.