We're a Wonderful Wife
Chapter 07
Dr. Sergeant Campbell
Grand Forks AFB
Home of the Bone
They both were beaming with joy over the expected arrival of the little one... imagine moving into your new housing unit at your first stateside assignment and find out that you're going to finally have a baby! They waited so long, four years of joyful unprotected sex finally came to fruition, sitting up long into the night discussing baby names, Don wanted traditional Vietnamese first and middle names, Lanh leaned toward Celtic or Nordic first and middle names. "How about Donovan Aloysius Campbell?" said Lanh as they cuddled naked in their bed on a warm summer evening.
"We already have a Donovan Aloysius Campbell," Don gave her a stern look. "If going through what I went through is associated with that name, then no."
"But I want to honor you!" she half rolled on him, her chin on his breastbone, their eyes met, but Don looked sad.
"What if there's no Lanh out there to save him? I wouldn't wish that on anyone." For a moment they both considered where they would be if they hadn't met. Lanh would most certainly be found dead in her mother's bathroom the day after the dance where they met. Don would have ended up another farm boy runaway on the streets of Minneapolis, most likely dead with a needle in his arm within a year. In the end they decided that if it was a girl, her middle name would be Tam, her first name is still under consideration.
Another controversy was how many children to have. Lanh wanted to have seven solely because her mother had six. Don insisted that two was fine, three was perfect, but he'd be happy with any number that they got.
Still unnamed, their little blip on the radar was visited by the future grandparents Mai and Duong shortly after Lanh's announcement to them that the baby was on its way. After a quick tour of the base and a B-1 bomber, "The Bone" (B-One, Bone, get it?) they retired to Don and Lanh's home for lunch. Lanh suddenly excused herself and ran to the bathroom, a strange look on her face. Don was startled by the sound of her weeping, he arrived when she came out of the bathroom, her face screwed up in pain and confusion. "Honey, I think there's a problem..."
The four of them raced to the base hospital where Don convinced Lanh over and over, "It's ok, it's ok, this happens quite often, it doesn't mean..." all the convincing and reassurance Don could come up with was no good when the ER doctor announced that she did miscarry.
Ever since that dark day when she lost the baby Don worked hard to make life better for Lanh, anything she wanted was hers, she spent a lot of time at home in Grant Valley with Tam and Kim-ly, and Don would commute to her on weekends. It broke USAF regulations to be more than an hour away from his duty station without taking leave but his NCOIC was a hunter who hunted in the western region of North Dakota which was a further drive than Grant Valley so he told his boss that he was taking his wife hunting. Just so his story wasn't a complete lie, Don set some cans on fence posts, and they took a couple of.22 caliber rifles and went hunting aluminum.
Six months after losing the baby, on Christmas Eve, Don and Lan were finally getting back into the Christmas spirit, house decorated, the tree was up, Lanh's beautiful German carved picture frames hung in places where they would be seen easily, Don was in the shop updating some technical orders when the shop chief whistled loudly then shouted, "Campbell, get your ass in here."
Don stepped into Master Sergeant Vanderhorst's office and gave a British style salute, palm facing Sgt Vanderhorst, "Aye, aye mate, What up?" It was Christmas Eve; they were going to shut down operations soon and military protocol was relaxed. The coke machine had become the mixer machine as illicit bottles of whiskey and rum began to emerge from desk drawers.
Dale Vanderhorst scoffed and said, "First, I'm a sergeant, you don't salute me, I work for a living. Second, aye, aye is naval, but that salute is Army, RAF, and Marine, a British naval salute is the same as ours. Third, your spousal unit is taking up my phone line," he handed Don the handset of the office phone and pressed the flashing button on the phone and said, "Speak!"
It was Lanh, she was excited, "The hospital called, Doctor Ismail wants to give us the test results before noon!"
Don looked up at his shop chief and didn't have to say a word, the look on his face said it all. "Go!" said Dale, "Just remember this early gift next year."
"I'll be there in ten minutes sweetness," said Don and he handed the phone back to his boss, "and thank you darling."
"Fuck you, merry Christmas, now get the fuck outta here," chuckled MSgt Vanderhorst.
Twenty minutes later, Don and Lanh were sitting in a small examining room waiting for Doctor Ismail. And they waited. They waited over an hour, twice Don went out to front desk where medical technicians worked. "We were supposed to talk to Doctor Ismail at ten AM, we were here at nine forty-five, it's now eleven fifteen, it's Christmas eve, it's our fifth anniversary, we're out of here. Call us Monday."
"Airman Campbell, Doctor Ismail will be with you momentarily," said an annoyed looking lieutenant.
"Five minutes, and then we're gone, and I will be filing a complaint through my commander." Don checked his watch then turned on his heel and started to head back toward Lanh but the lieutenant stepped out from behind her desk and tried to block his way back to the waiting room. Don took a small notebook out of his pocket and said, "Witaker? Did I get your name right ma'am?" His glare was poison, no one gets between him and Lanh.
"Airman Campbell, I'm sorry," she whispered softly, "this is all wrong, and if you want to..."
"It's ok Lieutenant, I have it," said a familiar voice behind Don. He turned and it was Dr. Ismail, "Follow me airman," and he led Don into the exam room. There he sat down and said, "The laparoscopy we performed last month determined that Mrs. Campbell suffered from an advanced case of endometriosis which is preventing..."
And then it was over, their dreams were gone, the little boys and girls they were going to raise on the farm in a sea of love, home schooling so no bully would ever break their hearts, it was all over. Lanh wept openly while a ringing filled Don's ears, it was all over.
It was a dark and horrible Christmas. They were both utterly shattered. They normally spend Christmas Eve, their favorite day, a Friday this year, the anniversary of their first expression of love, cuddled up together in Don's old wingback chair listening to Christmas music, watching their train circle under the tree, and make love in the light of the tree, their house aglow in candlelight and love. This year they huddled together for support, the house dark, the phone shut off, the only sound was their weeping and an odd echo of sorrow. Lanh said that it was her angel crying.
Late Sunday night found them still on the couch, huddled together, their only breaks were to go to the bathroom. The thought of eating or drinking only nauseated them, and sleep escaped Don while Lanh slept fitfully.
Don called his shop chief on Monday morning at ten minutes before roll call. "Hey Dale, I know that this is last minute, but I have three days of leave on the books, I need to take them. We found out Friday that Lanh can't... we can't have babies... I can't leave her right now... we need..."
Master Sergeant Vanderhorst responded "Take as much time as you need, if there's anything you guys need or want you call, ok?"
"Yeah, thanks Dale." Don's voice was choked with relief and sorrow. He needed a cry as much as Lanh, but it just wouldn't come out. That was ok, he had to stay strong for her.
"Wait... did you say you found out Friday?" Dale was incredulous.
"Yeah, you were there, the hospital called and asked us to come in and..."
Don's boss seethed as the gears in his head clicked, then he roared, "on Christmas eve? They told you about this shit on Christmas eve? Those sons of BITCHES! I am so sorry Don."
"It's ok, we'll get through it..."
"The bastard probably wanted to clear some crap off of his desk... Fuck me... God damn them... I know you will, you're good people and the whole shop is here for you." Dale was livid, how dare some "nonner" treat HIS people like that?
After he signed off Dale Vanderhorst called the first sergeant, nobody fucks with his people this way, then he called his wife who was quite active in the Enlisted Wives Club, she was shocked that a doctor would give a woman that kind of news on Christmas Eve. Cindy Vanderhorst took the news worse than her husband Dale, Lanh was a new and enthusiastic member who simply glowed for the short time she carried the baby that they lost, now this? On Christmas Eve? More calls were made...
Quick note to civilians: don't get some idea that soldiers fight to protect you. When the chips are down and the shit hits the fan, they fight to protect each other, you just enjoy the side effects of their loyalty to each other.
Before long it was known throughout the upper echelon of the squadron that something happened with Don and Lanh on Christmas Eve. Don was a good performer, in one year his evaluations were putting Don at the top of the list, he was being looked at for positions like Quality Control where only the best are considered. An airman of this caliber being treated like this was a shock to management.
Don was alerted by the movement outside the front window that they had visitors. He looked outside and saw a car parked in the driveway, he arrived at the door just as the doorbell rang. He opened the door and there stood a tall determined looking middle aged black woman bundled against the frigid North Dakota winter. Before she could say a word Don said, "Come in, please, you'll catch your death." It doesn't matter if you know the person on your stoop or not, when it's below zero you invite them in. You don't leave someone out in that kind of cold, it's just not done.
She carried a large basket full of things like fruit and cheese and several bottles of wine, Don could see that they were Spätlese and Auslese, Lanh's favorite wines. Don didn't recognize the woman, but he recognized the shorter black man behind her wearing a parka over his flight suit, Buchanan "Buck" Davis, known to everyone on base as "Sir" or General Davis. B-1 Buck Davis, also known as Bombs Away Buck is the wing commander of the three hundred and twenty first Bombardment Wing (Heavy) making him Don's boss's, boss's, boss's, boss's, boss's, boss's, boss.
"Here, this is for you," said Adel, and handed a stunned Senior Airman Donovan Campbell the basket. An officer in enlisted housing? It's just not done! Being part of Base Housing, this apartment is actually owned by Brigadier General Davis, he just lets Don and Lanh stay here, but officers aren't even allowed in an enlisted abode, at least not without the first sergeant... sure enough, First Sergeant Juan Sanchez followed General Davis through the door.
"Can I get you some coffee?" asked a stunned Don.
Just then Lanh appeared from the bedroom wearing Don's dull gray Turkish bathrobe, which is much too large for her, it comically drags the ground as she walks. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were red and sunken from crying and lack of sleep, her nose red and swollen from being blown so much. She looked like a morose laundry pile and seeing her like this broke Don's heart. Don didn't look much better, his eyes were bloodshot with dark circles, he hasn't slept in three days and it shows. "Who is it?" asked Lanh in a tiny voice. "I thought I heard someone..." she stopped frozen when she saw the small crowd.
"It's Johnny, he brought a couple of folks with to check up on us," said Don as he put his arms around Lanh.
"I can't..." Lanh started but Adel Davis swept in like a rescuing angel.
"It's ok honey, I got the same news about the same way you did... but not on Christmas Eve," she added with a sidelong glance at her husband. She grabbed the basket from Don's hands and led Lanh off to the kitchen.
"I couldn't keep them away," apologized "Johnny" Sanchez.
