Mind the Gap: a Spy School Collection

An Operator and His Aviator

"B-but—"

"SHUT IT, JACKASS! YOU THINK YOU'RE SO HIGH AND MIGHTY BECAUSE YOU HAVE A COLLEGE DEGREE AND MASS SARN'T SCHACTER DOESN'T?!? HE HAS MORE KNOWLEDGE, WISDOM, AND EXPERIENCE THAN YOU WILL EVER HAVE IN THAT STUPID HEAD OF YOURS, AND GUESS WHAT?!? HE STARTED OUT A GRUNT!"

After a moment of silence, Keating continued his diatribe, but somehow managed to get louder.

"DON'T YOU DARE DISRESPECT MASS SARN'T SCHACTER AGAIN! I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE A BOOT LUEY OR THE COMMANDANT HIMSELF! YOUR FOUR YEARS OF ROTC AND TWO YEARS OF TRAINING ARE NOTHING TO HIS TWENTY-SIX! NOW GET YOUR ASS ON THE GROUND AND GIVE ME SIX BURPEES FOR EACH ONE OF HIS TWENTY-SIX YEARS! ON YOUR FACE, GO, GO, GO COUNT 'EM OFF!"

There's a reason Major Keating is nicknamed "Nuke," after all.

Drawing my focus away from the bellowing major, I looked down to see my wife giggling, clamping her hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter.

"You find somethin' funny, Molly?"

"It's always funny to see a boot luey get smoked—whether it be by a superior officer or a senior NCO—but that boy absolutely deserved it."

"Hon, you know that it doesn't matter. Like the sayin' goes: 'sticks and stones may break my bones—'" I began.

"'—but talk don't bother me none,'" she finished. "Still, you oughta at least have a master's degree by now. The only reason you never went to college was because... well..."

I nodded as we fell silent, remembering the reason why I never went to college. I enlisted without a degree, and for many years, I never reaped the benefits of the GI Bill, while my wife had. Molly and I were setting ourselves up to transfer to the USMC Forces Reserve, with me using the extra time to get a degree.

But then, 9/11 happened. On live TV, Molly and I watched in horror as planes piloted by Al-Qaeda terrorists. We were in shock for days. Hank and Chip, despite practically being babies at the time, seemed to pick up on our mood.

In the days following the attack, we each got a call from the husband and wife of Mary Willis and Billy Marshall, respectively, who relayed that the two were killed in the terror attack. Mary was an accountant working in the North Tower and Billy was an NYPD officer trying to save people in the South Tower.

This news was ultimately the straw that broke the camel's back. Mary and Molly were 6212s (fixed-wing aircraft mechanics for the AV-8/TAV-8) together while Billy was my assistant squad leader when we were 0311s (riflemen). We were good friends, and when the New York natives left the Corps to reap the benefits of the GI Bill and get their education, we made sure to keep in touch.

Molly and I canceled any plans we had for the Reserve, choosing to stay active duty. We were enraged and ready to take the fight to the enemy.

It hurt leaving Hank and Chip behind, but they were quite mature and independent for their ages. Granted, they still didn't understand much, but they understood us when we explained that we had to help our brothers and sisters.

They, like us, believed strongly in the value of family.

"It doesn't matter though," Molly said, taking a chance and grabbing my hand with her significantly smaller one. "Don't ever think that you not havin' a college degree makes you ignorant, 'cause you're one of the smartest, wisest men I've met."

"I appreciate it, sweetheart," I replied, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "And I'm glad I got you by my side, flygirl."

We quickly delivered the files to the S-3 guys at headquarters before I was finally able to lead my wife back to my team's hooch, where a campfire had been lit. I was expecting to have to deal with the rest of the boys, but all were absent, save for Gunnery Sergeant Max Graham, my MSOT's operations SNCO, who remained in his camp chair.