Danny

                We only found out that Danny was leaving us with precious hours to spare. Mum couldn’t bear to let him go and so the final decision rested with Dad and I think, in the end, she hated him for it. She was certainly never the same afterwards.

The day he told us, we were all stood together in one of those dreadful family huddles, the way we did when preparing for bad news.

He stood in front of us his hands thrust protectively into the pockets of his coat and gave us the news, his eyes lowered and his tone gravelly. Outside the snow curled about in furious eddies as the wind rattled the window pane.

Mum broke down and fled the room, her tissue pressed to her mouth, Jenny went after her. Dad and I remained, he stoically tight lipped, arms folded across his chest and I, numb.

 

Danny had joined the Royal Marines two years ago shortly after his 17^th birthday. Against Mum’s wishes Dad accompanied him down to the Careers Office and signed the relevant paperwork.   He had excelled in training and obtained the coveted Green Beret. I remember him putting it on at home, strutting round jokily and wrestling me to the floor barking that 99.9% need not apply. It was a difficult time for me, I felt as though I was living in his shadow. I’d hear people asking my Dad how’s Danny doing?   He’d always grin and go into lengthy detail about what exercises Danny had passed and how well he was coping with the rigorous physical demands of basic training and how he’d just bought his first car. I was progressing well at Art College but nobody asked and it fairly paled in comparison to a career in the Armed Forces. I almost resented him for it and I remember the day he left to undertake his training I secretly harboured hopes that he would fail and come home.

We always knew there was a chance he’d be sent away. It was something that Mum had been dreading, she’d said over and over that perhaps he wouldn’t be sent away. He joined 45 Commando Royal Marines in the January up on the east coast of Scotland almost 500 miles away. Again Mum had hoped that he would have been based closer to home and I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if she had also concealed a desire for him to return to or remain in the family fold. Dad had started watching the news more closely too, monitoring the situations in Iraq and Afghanistan. He would readily engage Danny in conversations on Middle Eastern politics, what did Danny know? As always, Danny would flash a typical s**t eating grin and make some glib remark about rag heads and Royal Marines. I saw Mum watching from the cocoon of the kitchen, drying cups slowly with a damp tea-towel and a distant expression on her face.

“Brown pledges further troops to Afghanistan in order to bolster efforts against Taliban insurgents.”

 Nato Commander: 'Civilians Hit In Airstrike'

“The government needs to ask whether the war in Afghanistan can still be won, the former high representative in Bosnia said Saturday.”

“Key aide to defence minister quits over Afghan conflict.”

British soldier killed in Afghanistan blast

 

“Do you think your Unit will be going?” My Dad asked.

Danny shrugged.  “No one’s said anything...” He appeared vaguely disinterested but I wondered whether that was purely for the benefit of my Mum, who hovered around the room as Danny began to pack his kit for the journey from London back up to Scotland. Jenny, Danny’s girlfriend, sat curled up on the sofa with her feet tucked under her. Her eyes never left him.

“Well, if we go, we go; that’s what we joined up for.” He grinned

Dad smiled back and slapped him on the shoulder. I found it almost galling. Dad wasn’t a military man, we weren’t even a military family and now, all of a sudden all this pomp, bravado and patriotism.

“It’s not like we should even be there,” I said, not even bothering to keep the indignation out of my voice. “It’s not our war...”

Dad looked at me once and I fell silent.

Mum did her usual flitting about making sure that Danny had everything he needed. “Do you want me to make you some sandwiches for the drive up?” She said.

“No it’s okay; I’ll stop off at a Service Station and grab some food and a coffee. Besides, we’re going to swing round to Jenny’s parents first and get a bite to eat before I head off up the line.”

“Make sure you stop off more than once it’s a long drive,” Mum said. Danny rolled his eyes and fired me a wink.

“I’ll have a sandwich if you’re making, Mum,” I said.

She flapped a towel at me dismissively. “I’ll do you and Dad something once Danny’s gone,” she said.

Dad was already checking the weather reports. “It’s going to freeze tonight,” he said peering over the top of his spectacles.

“Right,” Danny said, standing and shifting his bag into the corner of the room. He appeared slightly distracted as he made his final provisions or preps as he now called it. He stood and turned flicking out a hand and indicating for Jenny to join him. He stared at the carpet as her hand snuck into his. “Umm.”

He rubbed his nose and sniffed. “Mum, Dad... there is one... small thing.”

 

*                                             *                                             *

Dad and I stared at him. My legs felt weak and it was as if someone had grabbed me by the throat.

“I thought you said he was... stable.” My Dad said.

The Doctor removed his hands from his coat and nodded. “He stabilised overnight yes... but remained critical. There are invariably complications and deteriorations with these sorts of injuries and some... some are just insurmountable.”

I watched my Dad’s fingers tightening, the knuckles blanching.

 “I’m sorry... there is nothing more we can do. His body has just given up...”

I could see my Dad blinking; the muscles at his jaw bunching and releasing. “He’s never given up before, never... not at anything...”

“You have a right to be proud of your son, Mr Rees, for so many reasons.” The Doctor continued. “Danny hung on when so many could not have. The injuries he sustained in that car accident were catastrophic...” He shook his head, allowing the sentence to trail off. “He had a lot of heart and he clearly wanted you to see that. He kept fighting so that he could have you, his family, all around him. And he got that. That was one hell of a feat. I’m sorry but brain activity has decreased to the point where any form of resuscitation is... unachievable... ”

Dad seemed hollow now, his eyes wandered around the room, glossy, soulless. Lost.

 “He’s going to be a Dad you know... He was nervous about telling us because he thought that we would think that he was too young...” Dad gave a strange choking laugh and put a hand to his mouth. “My God, his mother was so concerned about him going to f*****g Afghanistan... he never even made it. I told him the roads were freezing up...”

The Doctor nodded. “I know this is a difficult time, Mr Rees...”

He placed a clipboard on the table and laid a pen beside it. I could not bear to look at the wording.

“I’ll leave you to discuss the arrangements with your wife... again, I am truly sorry.”

He gave a final nod, plunged his hands back into his pockets and walked away.

Outside the snow curled about in furious eddies as the wind rattled the window pane...

 

Author's Note

Hmmm I'm still not sure about this one - what do you think?

Reviews

[Doreen]

I only noticed two things that stood out for me:
1) In the start of the second paragraph - "The day he told us, we were all stood"
2) The end of the first part confused me a little bit - "He rubbed his nose and sniffed. “Mum, Dad... there is one... small thing.” - When starting to read the next part, I was so busy being perplexed that it took away from the story a little bit. Perhaps if there was a "Oh, never mind" or something to that effect to leave it hanging, but not too much? But it could just be me - I'm certainly no expert. :)

The story was fabulous! I really liked this very much. It is so touching. I have to remember to keep tissues at the ready. The characters were great, the dialogue very natural and believable, and, as always, the plot and story were very good. Nice work. I do enjoy reading your work.

[Creepy Swine Guy]

I think that I like it Howie. I think that it stands up to the standards that you have established. Maybe it just feels different because it's a bit afield of the horror and humor that we are used to reading from you.

I took particular not of your echoing the sentence ...

"Outside the snow curled about in furious eddies as the wind rattled the window pane"

... at what were sort of bookends of criticallity.

[Sammypookins]

LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVVVVVE this! Perhaps one of the best things you have written. Look at you!! I like this for lots of reasons. A nice sly little number. Didn't make me cry but as you know i'm a hard faced b***h, short but all the family dynamics laid out there nicely. All leading up to the inevitable end but not the one you hinted at. Well done dude Sam xx

[.Bunnie.]

:'( Well...hell...that just sucks!! You have such a gift for telling sad stories. This is story #3 I've read from you, and the third time you've made me cry. For being a total stranger.......you sure make me cry a lot!! x.X I have to say, yet again...f*****g phenomenal job.

[Fear Corrupts!]

Hmm...
This is very well written.
You told the story in such a way, like an author, unlike anything else.
It's truly a sad story, and it really cut close to home for me.
Actually, my father just died under the same circumstances about a week ago.
What a horrible way to go, I must say.

Anyway, you brought a lot of life to this story by personification in each character.
And good touch with the news paper clipping.
You're very talented, from what I can see.

Well done,