Dean Livesey: A Short Story

His unit was performing well and morale was high, but he realized that he still has a lot to learn about leadership. That summer one of his Lieutenants approached him about a soldier he refers to as Garcia. He tells Captain Franks that Garcia is always late for the morning formation and that the night before he cussed him out. Handing Captain Franks Garcia’s paperwork he said he was recommending Garcia for a Court Marshal. As Captain Franks looked over the personnel folder he realized that there was something wrong; Garcia had recently re-enlisted, earned a GED, and had been nominated for Soldier of the Quarter. He calls Garcia into his office and asks him what was wrong. Garcia’s mannerisms and clear disrespect were readily apparent. Captain Franks gets straight to the point and asks Garcia what his problem is. After hearing a gut wrenching story of Garcia requesting leave through the chain of command to return to the states for his Grandmothers funeral and being denied because he was too important to the team to let go, then a subsequent request for leave, after his younger brother was murdered, again being denied for the same reason, and the emotional anguish that Garcia was going through Captain Franks was deeply moved. This is the point that he begins a change into a transformational leader. At that moment he put his arm around Garcia and states “What happened is my fault. I know

If you have ever been in one of the branches of services then you know that it will not be good news when people in uniform come to your house. Two people in uniform come to Justin’s house which is where most of the setting takes place (top row, middle picture). “Soldiers at the door could only mean one thing…..Kyle.” “What had happened to him? Had he been hurt (pg.9)”?

understand what the old man wants him to enjoy - few hours away from the war. I think that the

Before the narrator was deployed his mother told him that no matter what happened, he that must always look after his brother. Then she proceeded to tell him a story about his father and his father’s brother. She said that one Saturday night his father and his father’s brother were coming home and they were both a little drunk. They were headed down a hill and beneath them was a road that turned off from the highway. So, his father’s brother, being kind of frisky, decided to run down this hill. Then his father heard a car motor not too far away, and that same moment, his brother stepped from behind the tree and started to cross the road. So, his father started to run down the hill and when he looked at the car he noticed that it was full of drunken white men looking to have a good time. When the men saw his father’s brother they let out great whoops and hollers and aimed the car at his father’s brother, running him over. So, as a result of hearing that story the narrator promised to his mother that he would always look after his brother and the narrator kept his promise, but in the end he just pushed his brother further and further

disaster has taken your precious son not only from the military but also from his dearest

General Magnus had promoted Lt Layton to full Colonel and made him his new Executive Officer/ the other one had been killed by a sniper a week earlier. General Magnus knew it was those SF bastards because the round was a .50 Caliber and had to have been fired from an M107 possibly a mile or so away. It gave everyone pause, thinking now that every single senior officer was a target. What they didn’t know was that it was one of the 28th ID scout platoons that took the shot. Some of them had gone to

“Ma’am this is incredibly important we need to get to him, I can’t stress enough how important it is. It affects everyone…from a medical standpoint.” Said Sergeant Taylor.

One day he was summoned to the Squadron Office and told to report to Technical Sergeant Tullos. Now this is another of those instances where growing up in a small town pays off. The Master Sergeant instructed Private Willis to take a seat. When he had, the Sergeant asked him “are you really from Neshoba County, Mississippi?” Private Willis answered “well I sure am”, to which the Sergeant replied “so am I”. Then the Sergeant asked him if he knew Danny Tullos. Private Willis replied “Yes I do. I played basketball against him in school. He went to Forestdale High School”. The Sergeant replied “That’s right, he’s my brother. Next time you see him, tell him I said hello”, and with that Private Willis was dismissed. Two days later when the daily listing of permanent duty station orders were posted, a listing which was always in alphabetical order, Private Willis found his name at the top of the list. He had been assigned to Headquarters Second Air Force at Barksdale Air Force Base. Now Private Willis had never heard of Barksdale but was pleased to learn it was located in Bossier City, Louisiana and later learned that it was the closest Air Force facility to where he had grown up. Serving in the military, you met, eat, sleep and perform daily functions with people from all across this

Dear Ms. Porter: Please accept my deepest, heartfelt sympathy on the loss of your son Specialist Patrick E. Boss, who was serving our grateful nation in Iraq. Patrick’s death has taken a son from his mother, a friend from his fellow Soldiers in Iraq, and of course from his other family and friends at home. As you know, Patrick was part of 1-22 Infantry Battalion as our Human Resource Information System Specialist. He was an important part of our unit and many of the young Soldiers looked to him as a source of advice since this was his third deployment. He was quick to offer that advice and to use his experience to help his fellow Soldiers. On March 10, 2010, Patrick was leave for Rest and Recuperation Leave when the convoy he was in was attacked.

A platoon is a commanded by a lieutenant either second or first lieutenant and they suppose to have forty seven marines and two navy hospital fulminator, they have to have fulminator from the navy because marines do not have any. Michael is thankful to a twenty year old hospital fulman, because thanks to him he is still here now. There is a program call R&R (rest and relaxation) were he got a five day vacation from the war, where you can go t several designated places for five days and rest and relax. Michael was married (he has been married 48 years now) and had two sons, so for his R&R he went to Hawaii with his family for the five days. The day Michael went back to Vietnam after his R&R that was the day he got wounded for the second time, the first time he got wounded it was not as serious as the second time, the second time he step on a landmine and the outcome to that miraculous because normally nobody survives such a thing like that, and if somebody survives it they generally lose some limps. Michael did not lose any limps, but he almost most one, but he was not as injured as he could have had been. The place where he got wound there was no

As I parked in the gravel filled lot I settled in my car for a few minutes contemplating homework from each of my classes. I stepped outside with my belongings; there was a slight breeze from the remnants of Hurricane Harvey. Clouds dotted the orange tinted sky as the sun tried to climb up to be fully seen.

In the distance, I caught a slight glimpse of my friend, Tim. You couldn’t miss him. His blonde hair, blue eyes and long pointed nose made him stand above the rest. He was unique and one of the best soldiers I have ever seen throughout my two years at the base. I gradually made my way to go sit next to him. “What do you think this whole meeting is about?” I asked.

The man stopped him and said “I’m from the Military Family Services and I’m afraid that I have some bad news.”

My sister thanked her before leading us towards the centermost room. The sound of heavy rain followed in our wake. I thought it rather strange that today, of all days, was wet and dreary--it had been a warm spring otherwise, and such heavy downpours were practically unheard of. Perhaps the weather had changed when we drove from the sleepy city of Milpitas to the bustling streets of San Jose.

This just shows how weather can affect people's moods. At first the storm seemed exciting; getting to leave work and school early sounded like a good thing. However, throughout the day, little things happened that made it no longer be so exciting. And eventually, that excitement was gone and it was replaced by