An Army of Stories Tales of a Cold War Veteran

Private First Class R was an excellent soldier so it was unlike him to be late. When he came in a few minutes later I could see by the grim look on his face that something was terribly wrong. He immediately began to cry and tell me that his wife had miscarried the child they had so badly wanted. I had never seen anyone cry as much as he did that morning and one box of tissues simply was not enough. After a while, the front of his uniform was soaked from his many tears, and I felt horrible seeing him suffer. It was one of those times when I would have moved Heaven and Earth if I could have but I could not. It humbled me because I wanted to order someone to do something to fix the problem, but this time it would not be that simple. I had always taken pride in looking out for the welfare of the soldiers in my charge but this time was different; I knew I was not a miracle worker but I felt I had let him down because as much as I wanted to, I did not have the power to bring back his baby. It was the worst day of my Army career because a good soldier who looked up to me for wisdom and guidance was in peril, and there was nothing I could do. I felt like a weakened Superman hopelessly dragging his feet through a field of Kryptonite, because there I was with all my rank and power that the Army had entrusted in me, but I was useless to him.