A God in Ruins - Leon Uris [72]
“So, that’s what you look like, doctor,” Quinn said. “Hi, Mandy.”
The doctor examined him, happy with the results.
“I like a man who loves his own handiwork,” Quinn said. “Can I have a look?”
Not much more than a thin line of the path of the shrapnel and a small mark where it had made its exit. “A dueling scar,” Quinn said, allowing his fright to bubble out of him.
“We’ll get most of that cleaned up,” Comfort said. “Keep your shades drawn, just use the dim lamp until you adjust. You’ll be fine in a few days. I’ve done every wound in the book, but you take the gold, Gunner. A one-eighty between your skull and skin and hair.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
“In my line of work we don’t see too many breaks from God. He must have you lined up for something big.”
When they left, Quinn held Mandy’s hand, kissed it, and thanked her for her kindness. What the hell! Mandy wanted some memories. Why not?
“How about dinner when they let me go out?” he asked.
“You don’t have to,” she said, reddening.
“I want to,” Quinn retorted strongly. Once said, he saw a certain loveliness in her. Every woman is beautiful, he had often said to himself.
The phone broke the awkwardness. “It’s for you, Gunner,” Mandy said, and left the room.
“Gunner Quinn,” he said.
“Hi, son,” Dan’s voice rasped.
“Hi, Dad.”
“What the hell are you doing in a German hospital? I thought you were at Pendleton.”
“I got a little messed up on a training exercise. Just some scrapes and bruises. Greer was here. Thank you for taking care of her in New York.”
“She’s a wonderful woman,” Dan said.
Quinn stepped in to stop the coming apologies. “Dad, let’s start anew. Let’s just put the past behind us. I want to come home, soon as I can.”
“Do you forgive me, son?”
“Of course I do. You’re my dad.”
“Marine gunner, huh?” Dan said. “Now, you just had to go and get a higher rank than me, didn’t you?”
Quinn laughed. It hurt his scar. “Is Mom there?”
“She’s right here. I’ll put her on. I love you, Quinn.”
“I love you, Dad…I love you.”
Chapter 18
Quinn spent a restful night, the sleep of the reprieved. There had been many women since Greer, but none had put out the Olympian flame he held for her. He felt now that there could and would be life after Greer.
How well he slept after he had spoken to his mother and father! They slept well that night, too.
There was a knock on Quinn’s door.
“Come in,” he called from the easy chair.
General Keith Brickhouse, commandant of the Marines, entered.
Quinn came to his feet. The general waved him back into his seat, hung his hat and riding crop on the door peg, turned a chair around so he could lean his arms on the back.
“Army treating you okay here?”
“Everyone’s been great, sir.”
“That’s a pretty damned good job Dr. Comfort did on your head.”
“I’m lucky I still have a head.”
“We need to talk a few things over. In another day you’re going to be very big news. Please speak up now, and let’s keep it informal. You’re up for a big medal. I’d say the Congressional Medal is indicated, but it’s peacetime and there’s politics. So you’ll have to settle for a Navy Cross.”
Quinn shook his head. “Sorry, sir. I cry a lot these days, more in the past week than all my life combined. I can’t accept a medal.”
“Why?” Brickhouse demanded, then added, “As if I didn’t know.”
“If you know, then don’t ask.”
“Gunner, the RAM team, to a man, wants you to wear it on behalf of all of them. The President is going to issue a special unit citation medal for the rest of the men. The raid was one of the great chapters in Marine Corps history.”
Quinn spoke nothing in return.
“You’ve a brilliant career ahead, Gunner. Before all the hoopla starts, I wanted to thank you personally. Will my smoking bother you?”
“Not at all, sir. As for my future, I’ve reached my capacity as a Marine. General, I cannot live with such violence. Funny to say after Urbakkan, but I’m not made of the stuff to take more hits like that. The cockpit was filled with brains dripping from the bulkheads and roof. Someone’s eye was pasted against a