I only noticed him out of the corner of my eye.

I knew he was a Marine from the cut of his uniform, with its
tightly pressed military creases. Then I heard him, speaking
low with a kind of hiss. He was not speaking to me. He was
speaking to my sergeant, who was the Non Commissioned
Officer (NCO), in charge of the Military Information Booth, at
San Francisco International Airport, where I served as a Navy
WAVE, during the Vietnam War.

I heard his tortured attempt to speak. "Hep nee, peesss!"
(Help me, please!) He struggled with every word. I was
grabbing my purse to take a much needed break, but I was
caught by his struggle to make himself understood. I could
hear the irritation in the sergeant's voice, as she demanded that
he "speak up!" I paused, as he began again,"I-nee-to-change-
ny-tickek!"

I understood every painful word he said. He needed to
change his ticket. What was wrong with my NCO?

"I CAN'T understand you!" she said, irritated. "Speak up!"

How rude! I thought. I turned, putting down my purse, and I
looked at him, again beginning his struggle to speak. And, no
wonder. There stood a tall, strong Marine officer, perfect in
his pristine uniform, missing half his jaw! My God, I thought!
What is she thinking?!

"Excuse me, Sir. I can help you," I said. Without thinking, I
shoved my sergeant aside and maneuvered my way in front of
her. I could see the man's teeth through the wire that held his
face together. I was of no importance. I was just a lowly
seaman apprentice. However, I knew what this man needed --
someone, who cared enough to listen. I studied his eyes. I
saw the pain, and I felt his humiliation. Soul to soul, I knew
what to do. I smiled a big, welcoming smile.

"Yes, Sir! How can I help you?"

Slowly and painfully the words, tortured and slurred, escaped
from his wired mouth. I listened with all my heart, and I
watched his eyes. I prayed to God to help me understand
him. And I did understand him! More than I can express. I
gave him the directions he needed, and his eyes smiled his
thanks. When he walked away, I called a friend at United
Airlines, who adopted him immediately by personally
attending to his situation. I thanked God for this opportunity
to help a real hero. However, I also knew I was in trouble. As
I looked at my sergeant, I felt anger rise in me, at her rudeness
and total lack of sensitivity.

She stared at me, and she said, "I could put you on report."
Her eyes narrowed.

Without thinking, I blurted out, "and, I could put YOU on
report, Sergeant, for insubordination to an officer!"

My eyes spit fire, as I hurled the stack of report chits towards
her. "Be my guest!" I said, as I grabbed my purse. "I'll be on
break." And I left.

I went on to supper, as I knew it would be a long night. I was
troubled, however, now that my "dander" was down, at the
thought of going to Captain's Mast, for my insubordination to
an NCO. I was certain it would be very unpleasant. As I
neared the United Airlines counter, I saw him again. His
luggage was being checked, and his back was towards me.
Then, as though someone had told him where I was, he
turned, and he looked at me. Our eyes met, for an eternity.
Then I smiled.

This soldier and hero, in the United States Marine Corps,
pulled himself up to his full height, and with all the military
perfection in his being, he gave me a sharp, military salute! I
was thrilled! WAVES did not salute indoors, especially when
they were not wearing their cover (hat), but I pulled myself to
attention and returned that salute.

Moving on to the cafeteria, I walked a little taller, and I felt
more like a lady than I ever had before, in my whole life! And
I felt...just a little bit... like a hero.

~ Jaye Lewis ~

**************************************************************

Jaye is a Christian writer and Heartwarmer Gem and lives with
her family in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains of
southwestern Virginia. Jaye is a Vietnam Era Veteran, the
daughter of a World War II Veteran, and the wife of a retired
US Navy Chief Petty Officer. Jaye says, as we wage the
war to defend the world from weapons of mass destruction,
“let us not forget our soldiers, the brave men and women on
the front lines, who hit the ground running, so that we don't
have to.”

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