Black Sands

June wandered the path in quiet contemplation. Helen had excused herself and headed for the chapel a few minutes earlier, claiming the need for a few moments not focused on memorials. June had pretended not to notice the shine in her eyes and let the older woman move ahead without asking questions. Her brisk footsteps faded away as June studied the foliage and greenery surrounding the park.

Peter was several statues behind her, happily debating minor details of battles past with his father. The last bit she’d overheard didn’t make much sense for the National Museum of the Marine Corps, as much as sea strategy had been critical for the Peloponnesian War. She glanced behind her and bit back a smile. George was waving his arms with wild enthusiasm, with Peter as his mirror a few feet away.

She turned back and blinked in surprise. It was a lovely late spring day, with the scent of flowers and grass in the air under the trees, but most of the museum visitors were inside. Few took the paths of the memorial park, with its statues and peaceful walking paths. The elderly gentleman must have come from the chapel Helen had just entered.

Piercing blue eyes met her gaze as June approached the memorial. She gave the man a brief nod. His hair was still regulation short under his veteran’s baseball hat, and his green button-down and khakis had been ironed. A slight potbelly showed his only concession to age. The man remained straight-backed and walked unaided.

She turned her eyes to the statue. A Marine in a World War II era uniform held to his shoulder, one leg propped up on a rock. The dedication was for

“We were wishing for those rocks,” the man said. He gestured to the statue with one hand. “The sand was near impossible to move through. You sank in and struggled to move. Knee deep, it was in places. Funny that it had tunnels under it.”

The air left her lungs as June dragged in a breath. She turned, gaze glued to his hat. Iwo Jima, it read. Not just any veteran, but one of the remaining few. One of the survivors of the struggle for freedom, symbolically captured by the famous flag raising. An icon recognizable across any proper student of propaganda.

“I don’t know how I missed your hat,” June said. She shook her head. “I really don’t. I’m a professor of the military uses of propaganda. Thank you. It’s an honor to meet you.”

The man snorted and reached out a hand. His grasp was firm and dry, covered in calluses. “Jack. I didn’t do much. Back then, we were all in it, weren’t we?”

She nodded, her mouth dry. This was an increasingly rare moment, and she wasn’t sure what to ask. “Are you willing to talk about it?”

Jack looked up at the statue. “That was me, once. All gung-ho and ready to take on the world. And then came never-ending battle. I tell you, I grew up damn quick.”

June bit her lip and nodded. He seemed about to say more, if only she didn’t break the silence.

Jack reached up a hand to touch the statue. “I made it home to my Millie, though. That’s more than some could say.”

“I’m glad you did,” she said in a low voice. He gave a gruff jerk of his chin in acknowledgement and gave the statue a last pat.

“June?” She turned at the sound of Peter’s voice. A smile lit her face at the sight of his emerald eyes and hair tousled by the breeze. George trailed behind, still grumbling and gesturing as he walked.

“Peter, let me introduce you to –“ She turned and stared. Her feet kept her moving in a circle, her head craning as if Jack was hiding behind the memorial. “Where did he go?”

“June, who were you talking to?”

***

The National Museum of the Marine Corps is worth a visit if you’re ever in the area, although it’s currently closed. The building itself is designed to emulate the raising flag of Iwo Jima. Semper Fidelis Memorial Park is also real, as is the BAR on the Beach memorial, dedicated to the 5^th Marine Division.

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This week’s Odd Prompts came from Kat Ross in photo form, who asked who the veteran was, and what he was saying. Mine went to AC Young, who did a smashing job with a security dragon and lost pork belly.