Refusal to Mourn

He tried to get transferred into another branch of service.

It was his feeling that a different occupation in the Army would be more interesting and would make his service more enjoyable: Sort of like a change of pace. However, it was pointed out that a request for a transfer into another branch of service would invariably lead to an assignment in an Infantry Training Center. He was smart enough to know that this would be a dumb thing to do. It was not only dangerous, but also the tough training and discipline would be enormously difficult.

It was common knowledge in the induction centers that the men drafted into the Infantry were being trained to kill. But in addition to that, they were being prepared to face their own death: Girded to actually die themselves.

Infantry training is nothing more than a preparation for death; yours or your enemy.

And so he remained an MP. And when he was mustered out, it ended up being an advantage for him. He had no trouble getting his job back in the City Police Department.

But actually there are really no comparisons between police work in the Army and in a large city police department.

The Army MP never has the oppressive work of dealing with murders, rapes, robberies, assaults and wife beatings. That plus all the deadly activities involved in the flourishing drug trade.

Most of the men that get out of the Army are very happy to return to civilian life, as it surely is a much better way of living. But Philip Morton had often thought that Army life was not all that bad. Stationed at an Air Force Base in Southern Texas he had little more to do than to stand guard, or direct traffic at the main gate. Occasionally he was required to travel to the small town near the base to pick up some of the men that had too much to drink and couldn't find their way back to camp.

Who would believe that a hitch in the Army was preferable to being a homicide detective in a big city?

Philip would never admit this to anyone, but for him, and many of the men that served in the Armed Forces; it was nothing but an extended vacation.

The government gives you an opportunity to travel and see the world. All this while paying you, feeding you, clothing and sheltering you; and attending to your entire medical and dental needs.

Now this prolonged holiday is not available to every one in uniform. It would depend on what branch of the service you were in.

In some branches, like the Infantry for example, the service is a nightmare.

Every day is a constant battle to stay alive. And it doesn't make any difference whether you are in combat or in a training camp. You can easily lose your life in both places. However, the personals that are selected in these deadly services are a surprisingly small number. It may be less than 25% of the Army is assigned to rifle companies. The other 75% or more are necessary to transport them, keep them supplied, fed, clothed, hospitalized and buried when they are killed. Yet all the veterans of the Armed Forces are awarded the same benefits and are recognized with the same honor.

Philip was not very proud of his War record but there was no reason to be ashamed of it either. He had plenty of company. He was a part of the majority of men that do simple tasks in the Army without ever being in any danger of losing their life. This was the reason that women were finally allowed into the armed forces in much greater numbers. After almost two centuries, someone in the government finally woke up and realized that very few men in uniform actually do any fighting in modern wars. Women were capable of performing many of the tasks that were required in the service units. This made both the women and the government very pleased with themselves.

The call came in while Philip was sitting in Lieutenant Bill Rozak's office discussing a fishing trip they were planning.

In more realistic terms, a fishing trip they were dreaming of.

Homicide police don't have the luxury of making any long range plans, or even short term vacation getaways.

"It's the black and white cruiser from the lake front." The Lieutenant said. "They found the body of a girl in the bushes, they say it looks like a young girl. They got the area roped off and are waiting for a homicide man.

You'd better get over there before them uniform guys screw up the crime scene. You know how they act when they stumble across a body. Right away they start messing around the place, and before you know it, some valuable piece of evidence is lost forever."

Philip started to get up, and then asked.

"What are they calling you for? Why is it every time one of them fat heads in them cruisers find a body somewhere they automatically assume it's a homicide?"

The Lieutenant looked at him, sternly telling him: "It was a young girl for God sake, what in the hell would you think she died of, a Myocardial Infarction? Besides they suspect she has some bullet wounds in her head."

Phil went towards the door, stopping, he turned around and asked the Lieutenant. "Hey, what's a Myocardial Infarction?"

The smiling Lieutenant, proud of his medical acumen told him: "It's commonly called a sudden heart attack, and young people are not often victims of it. Now get going and keep in touch."

Philip arrived at the park in time to see a large crowd of people gathered around the body of a young girl lying on the grass. The call had come in to the 16th District only a few minutes ago. He wondered how the hell so many people got wind of it so fast. It didn't surprise him though. It's a fact of life, and a sad commentary, that nothing attracts a crowd of people quicker than the discovery of a dead body.

It was his opinion that there are thousands of short wave radio receivers that the citizens use to monitor police calls. How else can the word spread so fast? What always bothered him was why would anyone want to see a dead person anyway? There certainly couldn't be any pleasure in it.

Maybe people are just curious to see how a dead person looks when they are lying somewhere other than in a funeral parlor.

There they look so peaceful and contented; giving the appearance that their life had been well lived.

Who would ever believe that for most of them, their life was filled with misery, manic-depression, or as the classic writers describe it, quiet desperation? The same way that everyone else’s life is lived.

Or it could be the old axiom that says there, but for the grace of God, go I. People seem to feel more alive when they see someone dead.

It gives them a feeling of immortality.