***

The National Mall hadn’t been this crowded in years. It’d been a while since the city had had anything to be proud of. Eager faces kept looking forward, trying to get a glimpse of the war heroes who had risked their lives to save the very country that had abandoned them.

A long line of Navy officers and seamen lined a makeshift stage, where the Secretary of the Navy was delivering a speech.

“In times of great danger, and despite the adversity and odds stacked against them, the men and women on this stage today represented the fighting spirit of the Navy. They proudly served their country with honor, courage, and commitment. And it is my honor to provide them with the Navy Cross.”

Captain Howard stood at attention toward the end of the line, and, standing next to him, his arm still in a sling and a shit-eating grin on his face, was Eric.

“I suppose flashing the Navy Cross is almost like a get-out-of-jail-free card to the brass,” Eric said.

“No, Lieutenant. That’s not what it’s for.”

“Well, I know that’s not its intended purpose. I’m just saying that it could be an alternative use.”

Howard shook his head, the lines on his face exuding the lack of excitement of being positioned next to the lieutenant.

“Does this come with any type of prize money?” Eric asked.

The Secretary of the Navy finally made it to Howard. He picked up the bronze piece of metal and pinned it to Captain Howard’s uniform.

“Herold, your fortitude and commitment to the Navy was exemplary. Congratulations,” the Secretary of the Navy said.

Howard saluted. “Thank you, sir.”

“And you, Lieutenant,” the Secretary of the Navy said, “your skill in combat saved the lives of thousands of Americans.”

“I guess that means I get a free pass on the jet I wrecked then, huh?” Eric said, saluting.

“I suppose it does,” the secretary answered.

Eric and Captain Howard stood side by side as the secretary continued his steady march down the line of soldiers who were receiving medals. Eric leaned into Captain Howard’s shoulder a bit.

“Your name is Herold Howard?”

“Shut up, Scratch.”

“Ouch. Low blow, Captain.”