Time to Heal, Time to Cry

   Time to Heal, Time to Cry

Suzanne Marsh

November 24, 1979

“Major John Harmon reporting sir.” General Matthew Anderson, looked up from the paper he was signing:

“Come in John, I have a directive from the President, activate Delta Force.”

Major John Harmon was more than pleased, he had been suggesting for over a year that the Army have an elite branch for special missions.

“General”, John continued: “Are you saying that we can start to form a special unit?” General Anderson nodded:

“Yes, John select your team and begin training, your first assignment is going to be

‘Operation Eagle Claw’ you will train the team at a desert facility. It seems that Iran

has taken sixty hostages from the American Embassy, the president wants them back.”

After being dismissed by General Anderson, John began to look at recruits for this special team. It was like a shopping list of who’s who in the army ranks. If ‘Operation Eagle Claw’ was not planned carefully it could become a real turkey shoot. He needed the best marksmen, a Captain with leadership abilities. He began by finding Captain Dick Weintraub, a friend of his from way back. He knew that Dick was stationed at Fort Polk, Louisiana. Dick Weintraub stood up as John entered his office:

“John, good to see you, what brings you to my neck of the woods?” John, motioned for Dick to sit:

“We are preparing to rescue the hostages in Tehran, I want you to lead that team, you are

going to need the best of the best.”

Dick decided to pull men from several different platoons to make up his. There was Lieutenant Paul Holbrook, Sergeant Jake Franks. Those were a start, he would have Franks pick the rest of the men.

April 24, 1980

“It’s a go, Operation Eagle Claw is a go.” The men had drilled for months, they were as ready as they ever would be for this mission. The C130’s were launched from Pope Air Force Base with the MH-6 helicopter in their bellies, the US Army Rangers on board. John Harmon pulled out maps of the desert location they were to land on. From there explained what and how they were going to extract.

Private Patrick Newscomb had just become a father prior to shipping out, fear gripped him as he stepped off into the hot desert sun, something did not feel right. Gun fire rippled the sand, Newscomb was hit, Glen Trotter and Bobby Lee Wright were pinned down.. He could feel his life’s blood ebbing away. Corporal Glen Trotter came running toward Newscomb;

“Hang in there Pat, you’re gonna make, just hang on!” Pat knew differently:

“Glen, give the letter to Rosie for me, tell her I love her and Mark.” Pat closed his eyes, breathing shallow, a few rales and he was gone.

April, 2023

Mark Newscomb stood at the stones he knew would take him back in time, to 1980, when his Dad was killed in action. He needed to know the truth about how he was killed. His mom had told me more than once there was more to it, but she would never divulge what it was. It was time he knew, he grew up without a father, his mom had done everything she could to raise him to be the man his father was. He stepped through the stones, he was stunned to see a mint 1980 Chevy Camaro, going down the street he was standing on. The street where his father grew up. The same house he had grown up in after his grandparents passed away. His dad had been the only child, so he inherited everything. He noted a young man, a soldier, who bore a resemblance to himself enter the house. Was that his dad? He found himself drawn to the window, he heard voices, one was his grandfather the other was his dad:

“Pat, you can’t just leave Rosie, she is gonna have a baby.”

“Dad, I know but my orders came through, I might be able to get leave before we ship out

at least I’d be here for his birth. Rosie is having a “C” section so the appointment is

already made. I’ll talk to Glen Trotter, he can help me get leave.”

“Son, I hope you know what you are doing.” His dad embraced his son in a fatherly hug,

Mark scampered into the brush as the soldier, waved goodbye to his parents, then he caught a quick glimpse of his mom Rose, she was beautiful, long red hair, green eyes, she waved to her husband, then ran to kiss him good bye, her belly huge with child. Mark could see the tears streaming down her face as she spoke:

“Pat, be careful, we need you to come home to us. Remember we love you.” She turned and ran back into the house. Mark felt horrible eavesdropping but glad that he had. Pat got into a taxi and left, he waved as the taxi pulled away. Mark spotted a canary yellow Firebird in the driveway, that was the car his mom kept in the garage, now he understood why. He knew he couldn’t follow his dad, but he could take a few days to see things his dad had seen. He saw his mom turn on the television, what was she watching, he wondered.

Mark, saw the Candlelight Inn just down the street from where the house was, he walked there. As he walked he decided he would go to his dad’s grave the following morning, when no one else would be there. He had no idea how he would explain who he was; much less how he arrived there.

The Candlelight Inn, was it seemed more for young couples than for a single male, but he would keep to himself. He took the key from the desk clerk after paying twenty five dollars for the night, he thought: ‘the last motel I stayed in that was comparable to this one cost over a hundred dollars. Things were cheaper back in 1980 he decided. He could smell steaks cooking from the Inn’s restaurant, he went to his room then went to eat. He was fascinated that a good steak was five dollars, he lived in the wrong time period.

He returned to the room, he turned on the television and found Bosom Buddies, he was stunned to see an actor he greatly admired, Tom Hanks, in one of the leading rolls. The show was funny, he didn’t have to guess at the plot. It was followed by Beauty and the Beast, he thought that was okay. He was becoming restless

He went to his dad’s grave sight the following morning, spoke in his head to his dad letting him know he was there. He left and headed back to the house where he had grown up. Once again he hid in the brush. Rosie, waddled to the car, put the seat back as far as it would go then got in. She forgot something and went back inside. Finally, she returned, he had to find out what happened April 24, 1980, he decided his grandfather was the best one to ask. He had been close to him until he passed suddenly two years ago.

Mark knocked on the front door, his grandfather answered the door:

“Yes, young man what can I do for you?” Mark felt relief, his grandfather had no idea who he was, after all he had not been born yet.

“Yes sir, my name is Mark, I understand that your son was part of Operation Eagle Claw, I

am doing research into that day, Professor James Thomas suggested I contact you.”

The front door swung open allowing Mark access to the interior of the house he had left two days ago. His grandfather motioned him to have a seat. Mark could not believe he was sitting here talking to his grandfather in 1980, he had passed away in 2000 it was surreal. The elderly man still had no idea who Mark actually was or just why he was there. The elderly man once again asked:

“What do you want to know about my son?” Mark peered into the old man’s brown eyes:

“Historically, Operation Eagle Claw was a failure, did Private Newscomb receive the

Bronze Star or Purple Heart? He was killed in action is that correct?” The old man nodded

he rose from the chair, went over to a table that had Private Patrick Newscomb’s picture on it, he pulled open a drawer, taking a blue box. He brought it over to Mark:

“This is all that I have of my son, he was given the Medal of Honor. He saved two of his

buddies that day. His commanding officer put him in for the medal. I had no idea why

until his buddy Glen Trotter came to see us, almost three years after Pat was killed. His

wife had given birth just before he left for desert training, it was a little boy, his name is

Mark. He lives here with his mom and us.”

Mark wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry or hug his grandfather, this was not the news he had expected. His mom had never told him he had won the Congressional Medal of Honor. Mark thanked the elderly man, he walked outside into the sun. Later that evening he went back to the stones, he went through. He walked home, his mom smiled as he entered. A moment later she smiled as she said:

“Mark, you remind me more and more everyday of your dad, not so much looks but

mannerisms.”

This pleased Mark to no end especially since his grandfather had not recognized him. He strode over to the table, pulled out the drawer and removed the Medal of Honor, he turned to his mom:

“Why didn’t you tell me dad won the Congressional Medal of Honor?”

She was taken aback she had no answer for him, she wondered how he had found out:

“Mom before you ask me how I know, I discovered when I was eighteen that I am a

time traveler. I went back to 1980 and asked grandpa; he told me. Dad did it right.

I have decided to go into the army, I hope I can make a difference just like dad did.”

Rose shed tears of fear and joy, she hugged her son:

“Mark, if that is what you want then do it. Your dad would be proud of the man you

have become. I loved him Mark, I raised you to know him. I did not tell you about

the medal simply because whenever I look at it I wonder what our lives would have

been like, had he lived. I guess I will never know. Today is a time to heal and a time to cry."