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Getting a domestic call and not knowing if I’d arrive in time to save someone’s life, or if I did, would I be able to de-escalate the situation before someone got hurt? Hearing that a child had gone missing in a busy part of base housing, knowing there were about a million places for a little one to hide, frantically looking around with the same urgency as if it were my own son. Calls like that tore me up inside, and I did everything I could to rein in that fear so I could do my job.
This, right here, looking for a fellow Marine who was struggling to find his worth and not knowing what condition I’d find him in? This was another one of those times. Without question.
I did a double take when I caught sight of some bicycle tracks down a dirt path. Immediately, I pulled over and got out, following them through the trees. Seconds later, my shoulders sagged in relief when I spotted Max sitting on a fallen log about thirty feet in front of me. The relief grew when I saw his back move like he’d let out a long sigh. I’d found him. I’d found him, and he was okay.
Speaking low into my radio as I approached, I murmured, “Dispatch, November 1.”
“Go ahead, November 1,” came the crackling acknowledgement of my call sign.
“Show me in the woods north of Briar Road. I’ve located the 10-65, repeat, I’ve located the 10-65. He appears to be 10-4, will update.”
Finding a missing person, and even better, finding them safe, was like no other feeling in the world. It was like ending a free fall. A twig snapped under my boot, alerting Max to my presence, and I froze.
He jumped up, whirling to face me. Then, recognition crossed his heavily fatigued features, and he lowered his guard. “You.”
“Yeah, me.”
“What are you doing out here?”
I continued stepping closer to him, palms outstretched to show I meant him no harm. “I could ask you the same thing, Max.”
“I’m just … thinking.”
“Okay. Thinking is good. Or it can be, depending on what you’re thinking about.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Maybe not, but it’s worth a try,” I said, assessing him thoroughly while also trying to remain pacifying. “But first, I have to ask, Max.”
“What?”
“Do you have a weapon out here?”
His brows snapped together, and he looked mildly offended. “A weapon? No, of course not.”
It was a fair question on my part, given his mental state and job specialty with the Weapons and Field Training Battalion. But I didn’t feel the need to point that out.
“Okay, cool. Now, why don’t we have a seat, and you can tell me what you were out here thinking about?”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “Don’t you have more important things to do? Like bust people and get them in trouble with their commands?”
I bit the inside of my cheek, struggling to control my expression. I was used to it. “No, Max. I don’t have anything more important to do right now other than to keep you safe.”
“I’m safe, okay? So you can leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Max. Come on, let’s talk.”
Max eyed me as I slowly lowered myself onto the log. Then he sat next to me, and we both stared straight ahead. After a long moment, I asked again. “So, what are you thinking about out here?”
“About what a crappy Marine I turned out to be, and how my dad is probably rolling over in his grave right now.”
I winced. He’d lost his dad. Even though I had a kid who’d lost his mom, I still couldn’t fully imagine what it felt like to be that kid. I’d been really close to both of my parents growing up. Still was. I dreaded the day when I’d have to say goodbye to them.
“You’re not a crappy Marine, Max. You’re just having a hard time right now. It doesn’t have to define your whole career.”
