Marine Home on Leave
By Randall Rumper

The hand painted sign displayed in the front window at Driver Auto Repair said WELCOME HOME: OUR MARINE HERO. Janie Driver had made the sign and posted it in the window of her father’s business to welcome her older brother home. Ron Driver was due home on leave from the Marine Corps and his family wanted to let him know that he had been missed and they loved him. The Driver family was well known and respected in the community; a community that supported Ron and his fellow service members, serving and defending the country during a time of Global War on Terror.

Mr. Driver told me when I came into work that Ron would be home on leave sometime that day. I had recently graduated from high school and was working part-time at the auto repair shop while I attended junior college. I had been working part-time at the repair shop for about two years during high school. Ron graduated a year ahead of me and decided to go off and join the Marines, so I took his place at his dad’s shop. With Ron gone I moved up to repairing cars. Prior to that time I’d been a pick up and delivery boy as well as parts chaser for the shop.

For me since arriving at work had been filled with anxiety as I awaited Ronny’s return. I hadn’t seen my best friend in almost a year and missed his companionship. Ronny, his younger brother Brandon and I had been best friends since we were in grade school. We had shared so many things growing up. All of us played sports, been in scouts and raced motor cross together. In short, whatever activity one of us was involved in so was the other. We were all so very competitive. We had also gone through puberty together. My dad had been killed in action in the Gulf War, so Mr. Driver was somewhat of a surrogate father to me. Dad had been a helicopter pilot and was one of the last casualties of the Gulf War.

With another war going on and growing in unpopularity I worried about Ronny being in the Marine Corps, especially the fact that he was about to be deployed to Afghanistan. Ronny wanted to be part of the military from the time we were kids in grade school. He loved war movies and wanted to be a jet fighter pilot in the Navy or Marines; however, when he got into high school he discovered that he was color blind, so that dashed his dreams of becoming a jet fighter jock. Instead of becoming an aircraft driver he had settled on being a helicopter mechanic in the Marine Corps. After boot camp he’d gone to helicopter aviation school and graduated top of his class, and was now ready to take his training onto a combat zone to support Marine Corps aviation in Afghanistan.

I was lying on a creeper underneath a car tightening a muffler brackets when Mr. Driver kicked me on the foot saying, “Hey, crawl out from under there.”

I rolled out asking, “What’s up sir?”

“Get up,” Mr. Driver said extending his hand helping me to my feet, “For the next two weeks, unless I get really bogged down, I want you to spend the time with Ronny while he’s home on leave.”

“Sure, but what…” I started to say before Mr. Driver interrupted.

“Your on the