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Inspiring Voices - Dottie McComas

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97 pages

English

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They steadfastly guard the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, fire twenty-one gun salutes at funerals in Arlington National Cemetery, and proudly defend our nations capital. They are young men of stature, strength, endurance, patriotism, courage, and honor. They are men of the Old Guard, chosen for their good character, straight, tall posture, and physical abilities. The Honor Guard of the US Army is made up of young men who serve our nation, as all soldiers serve America. Their duty is to guard with honor. Dan, a young honor guardsman from Pennsylvania, falls in love at first sight when the girl of his dreams amazingly appears before him. Their eyes meet, and he is hopelessly entranced.Wendy, a college sophomore from Tennessee, visits Washington, DC, with her ROTC sponsor corps drill team to compete in the National Cherry Blossom Festival Competition Drill Meet. She unexpectedly finds true love right outside her motel room door.See Washington, DC, through the eyes of nineteen-year-old Wendy. Follow the routine of twenty-one-year-old Dan of the Old Guard as he honors fallen soldiers of the Vietnam War era and performs his duty as a soldier in the US Army. This is a wonderful love story and a historically accurate depiction of Washington, DC, and the Old Guard of Fort Myer, Virginia.It is springtime of 1973 in DC. Love is blooming along with the cherry blossoms the perfect setting for romance and young love.

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Historical fiction

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Publié par	Inspiring Voices
Date de parution	20 novembre 2013
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781462408146
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0240€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Copyright © 2013 Dottie McComas.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Cover Illustrator:
Sara Wieland of Knoxville, Tennessee

Inspiring Voices books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

Inspiring Voices
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.inspiringvoices.com
1 (866) 697-5313

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

ISBN: 978-1-4624-0813-9 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4624-0814-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013920316

Inspiring Voices rev. date: 11/18/2013

Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15

This book is dedicated to Jim, without whom, it could not, and would not have been written. Many thanks to Tim and my Family for their encouragement. A special thank-you to Margrett for being a great listener and encourager. Finally, I dedicate this book to the soldiers, past and present, of the Third Infantry Regiment of Fort Myer, Virginia; the “Old Guard”. Their service to our country is gratefully acknowledged and apprec iated.

Chapter 1
Washingt on, DC
1973
He stands straight and tall, eyes forward, perfectly still as the mournful sound of “Taps” whispers through the cool morning mist. Another young soldier, lying silent in a flag-draped box, is put to eternal rest in Arlington National Cemetery. The grieving widow watches as the flag is folded before her in perfect precision into a tight red, white, and blue triangle, stars on top. He hears the command, jerks to attention, and fires his weapon along with the others in his detail. The crack of the blasts pierces the fog and causes some to recoil, as do the rifles in the arms of the Honor Guard. But the young soldiers do not flinch. They have practiced this duty so many times that they could probably do it in their sleep. Sometimes it seems as if the y do.
He learned early on not to look at the families of the honored dead—widows young and old, crying stoically, sometimes children who don’t seem to know what has happened to their fathers, brothers. No, he cannot look at them. Three shots fired, the soldiers retire their weapons in unison. Perfect . At least to him it was perfect. He didn’t make any mistakes. His uniform was pressed, his shoes polished, his buttons shone in what sunlight was filtering through the clouds. His commander should be satisfied. Dan hopes there will be no late practices ton ight.
After the last of five funerals was over, the detail returned to base at Fort Myer, Virginia. Fort Myer is the home of the Old Guard, the Third US Infantry, the oldest active-duty infantry unit in the army. Founded in 1784, the Old Guard has served our nation as the official Army Honor Guard since World War II. Members serve as escort to the president and conduct military ceremonies at the White House, the Pentagon, and national memorials. They march in official parades, guard the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, and provide funeral escorts at Arlington National Cemetery. The Old Guard is also ready and able to defend our nation’s capital in the event of an emergency. They fire twenty-one-gun salutes, as Dan and his firing party had done t oday.
Dan had made his parents proud when he was chosen to be in the Third Infantry when he was stationed at Fort Dix, New Jersey. Then a young, nineteen-year-old private in basic training, Dan was chosen because he was over six feet tall, had no criminal record, and was of good character. Requirements for the Guard are to be in excellent physical condition, reach the height of between 5'10” and 6'4”, meet weight regulations, and be proficient in soldiering skills. Dan met all those requirements and more. He was now twenty-one and in the last year of his two-year duty.
After the guys from the firing detail got back to their barracks, and while they readied their uniforms for the next day, they talked about how the long hours of practice in the cold April showers had paid off. They were feeling rather proud. Sure, they were the second string, the backup to the Honor Guard Company of the Old Guard, but just because they weren’t the top company, that didn’t mean they weren’t as good at what they did. Their CO was out to show the higher-ups that their company could outperform the top company any day. So perfect or not, they would not be excused from practice this afternoon. They had fired at five funerals today in their full dress blue uniforms. They had even had to wear their overcoats. That always made handling their weapons more difficult, but they had prevailed. Tonight they could relax. Talk turned to a more pleasant subject: girls.
One of Dan’s buddies sat down on the bunk opposite his, grinning as he said, “I heard that a group of college girls from Tennessee is going to be at the Spirit program toni ght.”
Dan, bending over to remove his shoes, looked up at his friend and nodded. “Yeah, I heard that too, this morning at mess. They’re staying at the motel across the street from the b ase.”
“How in the world do you know that?” asked Mal colm.
“Ken was bragging that he was going over there after the show to meet some of t hem.”
Ken was named appropriately. He was one of the top company members, six-foot-three, blond, muscular—the ideal of all the Barbies out there. Dan wasn’t grin ning.
Malcolm jabbed him in the ribs. “We’ll get there first! He’ll have to get changed after the show, and we can find the girls after the program and escort them back across the highway to the motel before he has time to get th ere!”
Dan smiled slightly, nodded, and then lowered his head in disappoint ment.
“What’s the matter? You scared of beating Ken at his own game?” Malcolm ta unted.
“No, I’m on CQ tonight,” Dan said gloomily. “Wouldn’t you know I’d be the one sitting up watching an empty barracks while all of you are out party ing.”
Malcolm and John slapped him on the back and shook their heads. “We’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, kid.”
After a long day of funeral detail, marching, and preparing his uniform for the next day and a long night of CQ duty, Dan finally heard Malcolm’s laughter and loud footsteps in the hall. It was his duty to quiet Malcolm down, but he wanted to hear all the det ails.
Malcolm was tired and needed to get some rest, so he just grinned and punched Dan in the shoulder and said, “You shoulda seen Ken. He’s a natural with the ladies. They just swoon at his feet.” He pushed off and went toward his bunk.
“Southern girls—I just love to hear them talk.” He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, a contented look on his face.
Dan was left to his own thoughts on the su bject.

Chapter 2
Johnson City, Ten nessee
Two days e arlier
Up at five in the morning, she had packed the night before. She had to hurry down to the ROTC building on campus to board the bus. Wendy had never been to Washington, DC, before. She hadn’t been anywhere much. Here she was, a sophomore at East Tennessee State University and a member of the elite Sponsor Corps Drill Team.
Last year, as a freshman, she’d seen the girls dressed in navy blue military jackets and skirts marching on campus and checked into it. She hadn’t wanted to be a ROTC cadet, but she did like the uniforms. One of the girls in her dorm was a member of the Sponsor Corps and told her that they weren’t part of the army program, but they were a drill team. They marched with dummy rifles and put on shows and had competitions with other school drill teams. She’d encouraged Wendy to try out. That spring, Wendy did, and she made the team.
Now it was spring again and time for the National Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington, DC. Wendy was proud to be a part of it. As she handed her suitcase to the Greyhound bus driver, she couldn’t help giggling with the other girls about the guys they would probably meet at Fort Myer in Arlington. She didn’t really know what to expect, but she was excited, as were all of the g irls.
Wendy loved the crisp morning air, even though the diesel smoke escaping from the bus was polluting that freshness this morning. Of course there were a few girls, their hair still in curlers or looking half-asleep, who weren’t really morning people, but Wendy loved the morning. This was going to be a great trip. She boarded the bus and found a seat next to a wi ndow.
The guy’s ROTC drill team was traveling with the girls. Wendy hoped that cute guy, Larry, with whom she’d been on a date last week, would sit next to her. But as she sat with the empty seat next to her, Larry passed her by and went toward the back of the bus. He sat with another girl—one who didn’t have a very good reputation. Wendy felt rejected and embarrassed, but she had pride, and she wouldn’t let it bother her. She didn’t want a guy who would rather sit with a girl like that an yway.
Wendy had never dated a guy for more than a few dates—except Roger. She had fallen head over heels for him, and they’d dated for a few months before he abruptly began dating another girl without so much as a good-bye. She didn’t unde