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know the man.
"Well, I'll soon have that opportunity," thought Captain Adams as his parasail
successfully deployed and he scanned the coastline and the water below him. He
could see the Master Sergeant about fifty yards off to his left doing the
same.
"Our orders are to take whatever time and whatever measures necessary to carry
out this mission. And that's exactly what is going to happen," he thought.
"I have absolutely no doubt that Captain Hansen and his partisans are going to
be a tremendous help and asset in that effort."
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April 17, 2008, 09:18 MDT
Greyhound Bus Station
West Bannock Street
Boise, Idaho
Geneva watched as her two sons prepared to get on the bus. They'd be leaving
in less than fifteen minutes now. She reflected back on both of their lives,
their upbringing, the death of their father back in
Chicago so many years ago, the feelings she had as both Leon and Greg had
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drifted into the gang culture and then the almost rapturous feelings that had
come as her oldest, Leon, had pulled himself up out of that environment and
brought the whole family with him. Those had been glorious days of new friends
and new opportunities as they had moved out west here to Boise, Idaho where
Leon started college with a scholarship at Boise State University. Then the
war had intervened and Leon and his friend, Billy
Simmons, had joined the U.S. Marines together and gone off to fight. Alan, who
was benefiting from the fine example of an older brother and who, thankfully,
was wise and mature enough to emulate it, had joined the local Home Guard unit
and followed in his brother's footsteps.
Then had come the news of Leon's severe injury and the weeks waiting on word
of his arrival back in the United States. Then the months of waiting by his
bed side in San Antonio, Texas until he had finally come out of the coma to
discover he was a hero who had been awarded the medal of honor.
For Geneva, the tale Leon told of meeting his father while he was in that coma
would stay with her until the day she died. It reaffirmed her faith and even
now, brought tears to her eyes to think about it. Leon had described physical
characteristics and mannerisms about his father that Geneva believed he
couldn t possibly have remembered from his youth. They had spoken of it on
many occasions and she had gone reviewed it in her mind over and over again.
Geneva was sure that the tale would live in the family for generations,
bolstering their faith.
"The kind of faith strong families and individuals are made of," she thought
as she contemplated it again.
Next to Leon's miraculous recovery itself, Geneva was certain that the story
of his meeting with his father was the next most important thing to come out
of Leon's whole ordeal. In fact, she was certain that his survival and the
telling of that tale were fused together and, along with whatever else was in
store for
Leon's life, that it was a principle reason for his survival.
"Like the good Lord sending us all a message from over Jordan," she surmised.
"And it's a message I'm gonna spread & and hold in my heart 'til I see you
again, Jerome."
After Leon's release, he had been sent home with significant leave to ensure
his complete recuperation and recovery. There was a promise from the military,
from the President right on down that Leon would be able to stay stateside if
he so desired to help in the immense and ongoing job of recruitment, and in
January he had embarked on that assignment.
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But he never became comfortable with it. He was bound and determined to get
back into action and ultimately, despite her own misgivings, he had received
his orders and now here he was shipping out to the west coast for deployment
into the Pacific Theater of Operations somewhere.
& and Alan was going with him.
Leon and Alan had been thicker than thieves the last six months and as a
result of that influence, Alan had decided to join the Marines and follow in
the footsteps of his brother. He was now shipping out to the same Marine
Recruit Training Depot in San Diego where Leon had done his basic training.
Geneva Campbell was a loving mother. She was the epitome of the great
tradition of strong and loving mothers in the sub-culture that had produced
her in America. Resolute, strong willed, strict and as unflinching as
limestone when she had to be, but understanding and loving to her own and
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