John had gone through similar undertakings when a mate fell on the battlefield. Through hardship, Jared was atoning for what Bart had done for him over the past couple of months, and John wasn’t about to interfere. John remained the silent tool sherpa, knowing Jared was not in any sort of mood for conversation.
After thirty-five minutes, Jared stopped beneath the giant oak tree and turned to John. John held out both tools, and Jared took the shovel. John stepped back as Jared drove the shovel down onto the hard-packed soil with not much effect.
“Want some help? Grave digging is not an easy task, man.”
Jared dropped the shovel and shook his head as he grabbed the pick and began swinging at the stubborn earth. John watched for a few seconds before turning and heading back toward the ranch house. John would come back in an hour with some water for the kid; Jared was going to need it. John had dug holes all over the world and knew all too well how difficult it was to fashion a hole of any significant size by hand.
One of John’s old squadron leaders always said, “There are losers and then there are college-educated ditchdiggers. Now those are a whole different level of loser.” John never forgot that and was reminded of the saying every time he found himself digging a hole in the ground. He also knew hard physical labor was great therapy, and Jared was getting a man-sized dose out under the oak tree.
An hour before John was set to relieve Calvin on the OP, he walked to the oak tree with a gallon jug of water. Jared had a six-foot-by-two-foot rectangular hole dug down about eighteen inches deep. John could see Jared was on the verge of dehydration and offered the water. Jared stopped digging long enough to suck down a portion of the jug before he wordlessly got back to work.
John studied the hole, estimating Jared would be done sometime in the late afternoon. He pursed his lips, watching Jared tear away at the hard ground. John thought it would be good for Jared to be completely exhausted when it came time to lower Bart’s body in, cover him up, and deliver a eulogy. The fatigue would help with the grief factor. John watched a little longer, then turned and trudged back towards the OP.
Shannon prepared dinner for the group, having it cooked and ready to be served by late afternoon. She would eat and take her watch from 1700 hours till 2200 hours, at which time the men would pull the night shifts. They alternated so one man was off every other night in order to avoid getting burned out. It was 2130 hours before Jared dragged himself through the front door, dirty and haggard looking. Calvin flicked his chin toward an empty seat, where a bowl of stew sat on the table.
Jared dropped into the seat and slowly began shoveling the stew into his mouth. Calvin, John and Essie sat in silence as Jared methodically consumed the meal. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast and only drank the gallon of water John provided him. Once he finished the grave, he’d placed Bart at the bottom and covered him with a sheet before filling in the hole. Once the grave was filled, Jared had found several large rocks and placed them on top of the grave in order to discourage any animals from digging up Bart’s corpse.
There wasn’t much else Jared could do in the dark, so he had returned to the ranch house. When he was finished with the bowl of stew, he looked up at the other two men.
“I’ll relieve Shannon.”
John chuckled softly. “No, you won’t,” he said. “You’re going to bed and taking the night off.”
Jared shook his head. “Naw, I’ll go out after I clean up.”
“Not up for debate, friend,” John said, keeping his voice soft yet firm. “We don’t need you out there after the day you’ve had. We need someone who is fresh. You fall asleep and we are jeopardized, and it would be Calvin’s and my fault for letting you go out in your condition.” John finished with a warm smile meant to let Jared know he wasn’t slacking by taking the night off.
Chapter 2
The following morning, Shannon went outside and relieved Calvin, who came back and ate with John and Jared. Essie got up a short time later and came to join the group of men, who ate without conversation. When the youngster took a seat at the table, Jared got up and prepared her a bowl of Cheerios with water. Once she dove into the cereal, Jared returned to his seat and finished his breakfast.
“If you’d like, I can say a few words this morning—make it final and send the ole guy off right proper,” Calvin offered.
Jared looked up and then, to John’s surprise, looked to him as if seeking approval.
“I ain’t no preacher, but I did go to church every Sunday before all this. I know my way around the good book and promise not to do Bart a disservice,” Calvin added.
John glanced at Jared and nodded his head, indicating he was good with Calvin leading the service as long as it was amenable to Jared.
“That’d be nice, Calvin—appreciate it, and I’m sure he would’ve too,” Jared breathed.
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Two hours later, all five people stood under the large oak tree, heads bowed, each person lost in their own thoughts about the man who lay four feet beneath their feet and to whom a couple of them owed their very lives. Calvin held in his hand a very old beat-up Bible. Once everyone was circled around Bart’s grave, Calvin opened the Bible.
“The book of John, chapter 14,
