Bo tossed the coin in the air a couple times as if considering its value.
“It’s a challenge coin. A challenge coin is something that an officer or, I guess, anyone can have minted. It’s given to people, usually in the military, to inspire. I was just finishing Basic and a guy comes up to me, really random, and hands me this coin. I could tell by the look of him that he’s a BAMF. He has two prosthetics on his legs, from right above the knee down to the foot. “
“BAMF?”
“Bad ass mother fucker.”
“Does every military acronym include a curse word?”
“Yes and if it doesn’t, you add the F and it’s all better.” Bo pressed my head against his chest and resumed his story. I took it as a request to be quiet. “I didn’t recognize straight off who it was or what I was receiving. I just saluted, and said, ‘Thank you, sir.’ With all the shit that was going on with packing up and returning home, I didn’t remember the coin in my pocket until I was unpacking the dress blues at home. I pulled it out, and it has the Medal of Honor emblem on it. I knew immediately who it was then. I didn’t know how to get a hold of this guy, but when I get to SOI, School of Infantry, I ask my commanding officer, who sends me all the way up to battalion command.
“I’m a POG, the lowest of the low in the Marines, and I’m nearly shitting my pants standing in front of the LT. He asks to see my coin. I hand it over. He fingers it for what seems like an eternity, then hands it back. Tells me I’m dismissed and doesn’t say another word.”
“So he doesn’t tell you who it is?” I asked.
“Nope. At the end of the five weeks, we’re at a bar, just off the Camp San Onofre base. In walks the battalion commander and every officer underneath him. They walk up to the bar. Pull out these coins and slam them down. Everyone else in the place rushes to the bar and slaps their coin, if they have one, on the table. LT looks at me and tells me to pull out my coin. I don’t even know why I have it but I do. I carried it everywhere. LT passes the coin down and without a word everyone looks at it and passes it back. The LT calls for a round for the bar.
“Then he tells me about how this guy earned his Medal of Honor. He was on patrol and his squad comes under heavy fire. His squad leader falls. This guy covers the squad leader with his body, all the while discharging his weapon accurately and killing several insurgents. He single-handedly saves other members of the squad from being killed and pushes another out of the way of incoming artillery, the last action resulting in injuries so serious that it requires the double amputation of his legs above the knee.
“LT tells me that he contacted the MoH recipient and asked him why the hell he would have given one of his challenge coins to a sorry-assed Marine such as me. The response? That inspiration should be given to those who are trying as well as those who succeed.
“I wasn’t the best Marine at that point or throughout my enlistment, but—” He fell silent. I left my head resting against his chest, enjoying the rise and fall against his chest as he took easy, even breaths.
“The guy who gave me the coin e-mailed me the next day and told me: Do the Corps proud, both in uniform and out. I haven’t been living up to that out here,” Bo admitted; this time his breath was deep and heavy. “But I’m trying.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.” I rubbed my hand over his bare pectoral and smiled when I heard his breath hitch as my finger rubbed lightly over his nipple. I pushed up against him so I could look him in the face. “You’re an incredibly loyal friend. You don’t make assumptions about people. You fight hard for the people you care about. I think that all adds up to a pretty awesome Marine.”
He brought his hands up to cup my face. “You still with me?”
“Yes,” I said firmly. No hesitation in my voice. We’d weathered the storm, and I didn’t want him to think I regretted any of it. Bo was more vulnerable than he’d ever let on. I plucked the coin from his hand and held it up. “It’s nice that you have this, like a talisman.”
Bo looked at me seriously for a moment, studying my expression. He pulled me down for a kiss, open-mouthed and wet. His hands dropped to my butt and drew me hard against his erection, which seemed harder and thicker than before.
My hands tangled in his hair, and I deepened the kiss, wanting to cement the personal intimacies with a physical one. He broke the kiss and reached behind me to pick something up. It was his dog tags, the chain and tags mixed among the detritus on my desk.
Bo turned them so the light caught the metal. “During Basic, sometimes you’re so tired you can’t even get up to piss. You’re pushed beyond whatever limits you had set for yourself. You realize that your body can do things that you never imagined. But there are times when you don’t think you can go on, and that’s when your brother is there to lift you up and push you forward. He yells encouragement when the drill sergeant’s shouting obscenities. You know that if you’re ever caught by the enemy, your brothers will never stop looking for you. If you’re hurt, they’ll help heal you. The Corps is a unit of many, not one, but dozens, thousands even, who have your back. You can smite one Marine, but a thousand will rise up to avenge him.”