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Letters of a Corpsman: Finality
Posted By: (ENS) Rabid_Gallagher
Date: 13 February 2009, 5:00 am
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Colonel Farrior;
I regret to inform you that Gunnery Sergeant Michelle Farrior, a member of the Switched Service program and medic for the 3rd Medical Group, has died in combat.
She was serving with the Pelican, service number Lima Four Niner Zero, codenamed ‘Windwalker’, near Voi. This took approximately a day before the Voi Glassing, to eliminate the area of Covenant infestation.
She was part of a SAR detail looking for an elite commando who landed in the Voi Jungle, when she and the rest of the Pelican found the commando, and brought her back to the Crow’s Nest, the Voi GHQ, before it was attacked. She, myself, and Gunner Jenkins were attached to her following the linkup with Master Gunnery Sergeant Stacker’s men on the Voi Highway.
We boarded Windwalker and we made a SAR run, against Gunner Jenkins’ expressed wishes. Your wife, Colonel, fought the Marine Warrant Officer’s decision, and decided it was more important to pick up displaced Marines and Navy personnel than to high-tail it.
We made it around Voi when we heard a call from a downed Pelican, carrying about half a platoon’s worth of men, who took fire from Covenant AA and had a lot of wounded. Against Jenkins’ decision not to go, your wife steadfastedly decided to rescue them. She was the only one out of us who wanted to fight through and rescue Lieutenant Viljálmar’s men.
She was trying to save a Marine when she was hit by Spiker fire from a Brute, but she still managed to crawl over fifteen feet to reach me and tell me that two Marines couldn’t climb out of the Pelican. Then she mentioned your name as she seemed to pass away, clutching at a picture. It was of you, sir.
I found this letter in her rutsack.
I’m sorry this did not get to you sooner, sir. Once I get leave from an assignment, I’ll head over and tell you in person what happened.
With Regards;
Lieutenant Commander Luke Henderson
41st Special Tactics, Rescue, and Extraction Battalion
Dear My Beloved;
If you are receiving this letter, than I have died in the line of combat.
I was either struck down by those bloodlust aliens and their unholy Covenant, or by some sort of friendly fire. Either way, my heart has stopped pumping blood, and my mind has ceased all thoughts, and you are gone from me, as I am from you. The most important thing, however, is that my love is gone.
But do not fret, Randy. My love will extend from this world and into yours; you should know this, because these are reflected in the letters that you write to me. You paint a picture of simple, but beautiful imagery, and you waste it by not using it to the fullest of your abilities.
Since I am no more of this world, I ask you in the simplest terms of lovers. Not as the voice of a married spouse speaking to her husband, nor as a woman speaking to her soul mate. I want you to use that ability you have with the written word, and use it for the rest of your life. You have a gift, my love, and you would do well with it.
Men who do fear the pen are naught sufficed to failure, or so Thymaien said.
Make sure you tell my mother that I did what I knew was right, and don’t let her push you, as you like to tell me she has you do. But there is a very important thing you must do for me if this letter reaches you, and it’s something that goes beyond our love for one another.
My little sister, Abigail. You have to take care of her if I am gone, because she will have no one who can listen for her if my brother cannot be there for her, or his wife. You have to be a bastion for her once my soul departs for Heaven, because she will need someone there for her. You have to do this for me, Randy; because you know I would do the same for you in a heartbeat. Right now, I ask you for it, but when I leave, I will demand it.
If this letter did get to you Randy, then that means Jacob Riley is alive as well. You need to help him as well, Randy, because he’s gone. He’s not simple Jacob anymore, Randy, but he’s firmly Lieutenant Riley, United Nations Marine Corps. He only sees war, and he will drink, but I’m worried that PTSD will utterly destroy him, Randy.
And finally, if I don’t make it to the end of the Conflict, then bury me in Arlington, with a white stone, and the sign of my religion firmly placed upon it.
And don’t cry, Randy, at least while you’re reading this. Ever since we were little kids we were in love, and I always told you in high school never to cry if either of us died. You are an emotional man, Randy, and I need you to be strong for me. Do not weep, because I do not deserve that.
My sister needs someone who is strong, Randy, to take care of her. I do not trust my brother with that responsibility, because his vices are too much. You will have to be there, and you have to understand her as well.
Love her as much as you love me, because she has my blood flowing in her too, and if you do, then she will show you the same love that I show you.
I love you, Randy.
My death will not stop it.
Forever yours, in life or Death
Michelle
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