Running through the jungle. The young private realized how ironic it was, that the lyrics to his favorite song might be describing his death. Running through the jungle with his M16 and his side arm, George Buchannan was desperately trying to escape the ambush by the Viet Cong. He dived in the foxhole where he slept the night before only to catch a frag grenade the moment he stopped.

Forty-seven years later, a much older George Buchannan awoke from the nightmare in a cold sweat. He looks at the clock, it read 05:59. “Beat you again you slow bastard,” the old veteran whispered to himself. The alarm went off, as it always does, one minute after he rises. The old man pulled on his jacket, jeans and biker boots. He makes his way down to the garage to his 1967 chevelle. He turned the key, and the engine roared to life. He drove past the elementary school, then all the fast food places. He makes a stop in the quickie mart one block south of the park. He purchases a pack of smokes and a loaf of bread. He leaves the car parked at the gas station and walks to the park, as he has done every day since the passing of his beloved wife. It was exactly two miles to the bench where he and his Silvia met. He hobbles along the sidewalk cursing that day in Vietnam that had crippled him. He arrived at the bench at exactly 06:45 as he had done for the past four years. Only this time, he saw a young man sitting there.

“Good Lord it’s hot,” Will said. Everyone in his unit turned back to him with minor annoyance. “Afghanistan is in the middle east specialist, you had better get used to it,” said Will’s commanding officer. Will was a member of an intelligence unit that was searching for WMD’S in the area. Immediately, a firefight erupted, the unit scattered looking for cover. After an hour of death, Will looked up and realized he was the only survivor in his unit.  The insurgents made their way to him, he was out of ammo. They seized him by the arms and legs, after which, they dragged him away.

It had been six months of pure agony and torture, when a team of Army special forces operators cleared the cave of insurgents. They stood Will up and asked him what intel he had given them. Will looked up and whispered, “I gave em’ nothing.”

After this event transpired, he was honorably discharged and headed home to see his wife. Unfortunately, Will couldn’t quite get past his capture and torture. His wife’s name was June, and she loved him with all her heart. They had been together since their senior year of high school. But no matter how much she loved him, she gave Will and ultimatum. “Get help or I won’t be around to watch you destroy yourself,” she yelled at his back as he headed out the door.

Will had run six miles, when what June said had finally hit him. He saw a bench just up the path where he sat down so he could contemplate how he could get better for her. He sat there in sorrow, when he looked up and saw an old man limping up the sidewalk.

“What do you think you’re doing son,” George barked at will. “n-nothing sir,” Will said nervously. “Well are you going to move over, or are we going to have a problem,” George asked. Immediately Will gave the old man some room to sit down. George limped over to the open space and sat down heavily. He pulled the loaf of bread out of the brown paper bag he had gotten at the gas station. He began to tear the pieces of bread apart and scattered them along the pathway in front of them. “You a soldier son,” George asked. “Y-yes sir,” Will stammered. “Relax, I’m not your CO, you can call me George,” the old man said uncharacteristically calm. “Okay, George, what are you doing here so early in the morning,” Will asked. George paused for a moment and looked long and hard at the young man sitting next to him. What George saw was a young veteran in need, which is why George decided to open up to this young man. “This bench is where I met my dearly departed wife Silvia,” he said with reverence. “She was the love of my life, and ever since I lost her, I have been coming here every morning at 06:45,” The old man said with heavy sadness. “So, do you have a wife young man,” George asked. Will nodded solemnly and said, “yeah but she threatened to leave me if I don’t get help. Something happened to me overseas that has… changed me.” George tilted his head back and let out a chuckle. “What’s funny old man,” Will asked indignantly. “No it’s just that My wife would be laughing at the irony of us meeting if she were here.” George said with amusement.  “I was in the service a long time ago, and something happened to me the same as you, when I got home my Silvia gave me the same choice, get help or I’m walking.” George explained. “Well what did you do,” Will asked eagerly. “I found a friend from the service, and I talked about it,” George stated. “When you sign those documents, making yourself a soldier, you never think about what happens after,” George said. George continued to say, “The friend that helped me through that time explained it perfectly, he called retirement and decompression from war Phase 2. And he was right, it is the second phase of your life. Warriors like us, we don’t have our twenties to figure out who we are and where we belong in society. So, we take the time we have to explore other options, like another career, a family, a whole other life outside of the Army.” Will looked up at George as though he was his lifeline. “Would you come with me and meet my wife? I just think if she meets you she won’t think about leaving. So, will you,” Will asked eagerly. George chuckled and said, “Of course, I’m George by the way.” The shook hands and will said, “Good to meet you George I’m Will.”

They both stood up, and walked down the pathway together headed towards Will’s house. Will glanced over at the man that would be the instrument in saving his marriage, and George did the same thinking to himself that this young man could be the thing he needed to finally put his beloved wife to rest.