Semper Fi II

Today’s prompt: “You are a military officer responsible for going to people’s homes to tell them that a family member has died in combat, is a prisoner of war, injured, missing in action, and the like. Describe one of the notification scenes.”

They always know. The instant they see him on their doorstep in the crisp olive drab of his Service Alpha uniform, their faces fall. He used to think it was the chaplain and the medic that gave it away, but he’s notified enough people before a chaplain or medic could be rounded up that he knows it’s not that. Maybe it’s just the presence of a stranger in dress uniform at their door. Maybe it’s his face. He is diligent at composing himself, but maybe it still betrays something.

His impeccably shined shoes echo along your concrete walkway, flanked by your geraniums. His peripheral vision blurs as he focuses on your front door. That’s his mission. He raises his fist, takes a deep breath, and knocks.

Your spouse opens the door, and then their expression crumbles into anticipatory grief. He comes inside. The two of them sit down. Your spouse is perched on the edge of their chair. They don’t know what to do with their hands.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” he says. “The commandant of the Marine Corps has entrusted me to express his deep regret that your spouse, [insert-your-name-here], was killed in action….”