Memorial Day Memories at Romance At Random

romanceatrandom:

Jessica Scott shares insight into some of her memories as a soldier & what Memorial Day means to her – remembering our soldiers is so important and we’re thrilled to have Jessica share her thoughts with us today – thanks to all of our military for keeping us safe and keeping us the great country that we are. In memory …


I started blogging right before my first deployment to Iraq. I spent Christmas 2008 on the outskirts of Mosul. I remember there was a raggedy tree outside out life support area, a skinny and barely alive evergreen. I remember seeing a few Christmas decorations hanging on it, an effort to bring some holiday cheer to the desolate, dirty FOB.
Mosul is closed now. The war in Iraq is over. After almost a decade, the war that shaped my life in so many ways is over. But anyone who has ever served in conflict knows the war never really ends. There are memories burned into the fabric of my soul, some good, some not so good.

Memorial Day has been a difficult holiday for me for a number of years. Since deploying to Iraq, having stood at the ramp as a flag draped coffin was carried onto the aircraft for that final flight home, memorial ceremonies are especially difficult. So an entire day dedicated to remembering our fallen brothers and sisters sparks poignant memories to say the least.

As a writer, I try to capture these emotions on the page. In part, its therapeutic for me but also, it helps me put into words emotions that are often too strong to simply speak. There are many of us who have served who now write about our time in hell but not everyone wants to read Martha Raddatz’s The Long Road Home or Thomas Rick’s Fiasco or Mark Bowden’s Blackhawk Down.

There are a few books that capture the poignant emotions of being a soldier and coming home from war. Laura Kinsale’s Seize the Fire is one of my all time favorite books, written at a time when few people were writing about soldiers and the scars that war leaves on them. Roxanne St Claire’s Edge of Sight is a beautiful tribute to our wounded warriors. Robyn Carr’s Virgin River, the very first in what would become her Virgin River series, is a touching story about finding your place back home.

The thing about all of those authors is that the military somehow touched their lives and inspired them to write the books that touched mine. Laura wrote Seize the Fire as a tribute to a close friend, struggling with PTSD from Vietnam. Roxanne wrote Edge of Sight as a tribute to her nephew serving in the Rangers. And Robyn’s son continues to serve on active duty today, taking care of my brothers and sisters in uniform.

There will be many tributes written about our military this weekend. All I ask is that you take a moment and think of a way that a veteran has touched your life. And if you’ve read any of those books, a veteran has touched your life. Indirectly, sure. But still. Soldiers have a funny way of giving back, sometimes.

Today, I’m sharing a deleted scene from my second book, UNTIL THERE WAS YOU. Evan & Claire’s story has been a labor of love but as I go through the editing process, it’s finally starting to take shape into something readable and hopefully, not half bad.

This scene takes place at the memorial ceremony held at the First Cavalry Division headquarters after every deployment, to honor those who fell in battle on the last rotation into the sandbox. It won’t make it into the final book, but I thought it was appropriate to share today.



Claire wasn’t prepared to face Evan. Not yet. Running would have been a viable option, had she not been surrounded on all sides by hundreds of people, visiting general officers and civilian big shots from the local community. She doubted she ever would, if she was truly honest with herself. She’d done a damn good job of avoiding him for the last few months.

On an installation the size of Fort Hood, avoiding someone was generally easy, even if they were assigned to the same brigade. It was a task made easier given that she worked in an annex away from the main headquarters building where he worked. A cold breeze danced over Cooper field and she imagined she felt Evan’s gaze on the back of her neck as the chaplain read the invocation.

She flinched. She was not ready for this. She thought she was ready to honor her friend. Oh but she was wrong.

She wore dark glasses today. Dark sunglasses that hid her eyes and the very real emotion she’d struggled to keep lashed violently back since that night in Iraq when she’d fallen to pieces. Her weakness wasn’t something she was proud of. She’d worked to hard to shape the person she’d become. She’d become something else, something far from the trapped, screaming girl she’d been. She’d vowed she would never, ever again be that person.

I’ve got you. Look at me, Claire.

The Sergeant Major began roll call, heralding names that would never again be acknowledged by their owners. Claire’s eyes burned. Her throat closed and she swallowed hard.

“Major Barden!”

Silence. Claire bowed her head.

“Major Samantha Barden!”

She blinked rapidly as the tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.
“Major Samantha J Barden!”

She blinked rapidly as silence greeted Sammy’s name along with far too many others. But the tears came despite her best effort. She lowered her head, allowing a few strays to leak down her cheeks, hidden beneath the brim of her stetson and the lenses of the glasses. She swiped at her cheeks, sniffing quietly.

She jumped when someone placed a hand on her shoulder and she glanced over quickly. Evan looked back at her, his eyes dark with unspoken emotion. A thousand unsaid things passed in that look, a thousand more that still needed saying.

There was nothing to read into that single movement and yet, briefly, so briefly, Claire wished that everything wasn’t so complicated. That she hadn’t fallen for the man, only to have to turn on the soldier when her investigation had lead her down that road.

There it stood between them, a chasm made wide by betrayal and loyalty, not to each other but something else.

And yet, even though her actions had resulted in his being removed from command after only a few short months, he stood there, on the edge of the pavilion and offered a simple gesture of support. His hand was firm on her shoulder, heavy and solid.

Maybe if she’d never wept in front of him, if she’d never turned to him out of some dark and needful thing in a dirty desert night, then maybe, just maybe, things might not have been so perfectly destroyed between them.

He might have clung to her in his own dark grief, mourning the woman they’d both called friend. She might have clung to him in a desperate need to feel alive when they’d barely escaped death. None of that could erase what stood between them now.

I’m giving away a $25 gift card to Barnes and Noble today and five copies of BECAUSE OF YOU to commenters today.

(via kierstenkrum)