I had an odd dream.. one of those sharp, biting, breathtaking dreams that only last a moment- like a paper cut that wakes you with a gasp- heart pounding. It was very late and I turned in bed to see the outline of a man. It was my friend Morlin, sitting quietly in the wing back chair near the fireplace. He didn’t look up or over at me, just sat silently cleaning his gun. Even in the dark I knew it was him and I felt calm and safe because he was there.
I met Morlin 4 years ago in an online game where we both played wandering warriors and loners with no tribe or affiliation. Morlin was his chosen name and I only realized when I woke from this dream that I never knew his real name. Over time I learned much about him and came to admire him. He fought in Iraq and saw some terrible things including 3 horrible battles.
I cannot know what it must be like to stare War in the face, or to see people die or to take a life with your own hands, but Morlin knew all of those things and knew them before he was 35. We had many late night conversations over the almost 3 years when both of us suffered from insomnia though I was always sure our causes were quite different. Some nights we would go on raids in the game, wielding swords and fighting people or dragons or armies and after victory we would retire to a virtual campfire and drink and talk of softer, gentler things. I knew better than to ever ask and when he spoke of real life, it was because he was finally ready.
Morlin loved the wilderness, whether barren desert or deep woods. He told me one night that it was the purity and truth of it he loved and now that I think back on those nights and our long conversations I think I understand what he meant. He loved the honest brutality of the wilderness. It is devoid of emotions or politics or even people. The wilderness worked for Morlin because there were no gray areas. It was life or death and the rules didn’t get broken. He was a black and white kind of man and he had no room for anything else.
He said that he always knew he would be a soldier, since he was a little boy. When others were thinking of being doctors or firemen, Morlin knew he was a warrior, he knew it in his heart. Some men are born that way and those are the men who keep us safe.
He sent me a quote in an email one day that said, “People sleep peaceably in their beds at night because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.” It was that man I saw sitting clearly and quietly in the chair by my bed last night, watching over me as he purposely cleaned and oiled his gun.
Morlin, when he came back from Iraq decided he wanted to become a medic and as soon as possible, go back to the battle front. He was in his second year of medical training and was passionate about it. We often talked of his studies and tests and sometimes his struggles with the work but always, in the dark corner of our virtual room was the specter of battle and the fact that he needed to go back.
Sometimes we meet people who deeply touch our lives and Morlin was one of those people. He was different from anyone Ive ever met and though I like to believe I knew him and maybe even understood parts of him, waking from my dream last night caused me to realize that maybe I never did.
A year ago Morlin got in his car late one night and drove out of the gates of Fort Polk where he was stationed. He drove less than a mile from the base into the dark, wet Louisiana swamps. I wonder if he reveled in the purity as he called it. I still struggle to imagine if he spent time there alone in the mist. Did he wait a while and take in the sounds and smells? Was he more sure than he had ever been or did he falter? Did he feel alone or was he at peace before he put the gun to his mouth and ended his life?
Ive played the scene in my mind and dreams dozens of times and each time I imagine he listened to the wild, dark sounds. He breathed in the damp air, looked up at the full moon and finally found some quiet place in his head and heart.
I dont know why he was sitting here in the chair next to me last night, but I do know that he was.
A friend sent me a copy of the obituary which is now over a year old and I finally learned his name.
FORT POLK, La. — A soldier has been found dead near one of the gates to Fort Polk.
The body of Staff Sgt. Enoch B. Adams, a physician’s assistant student at Fort Polk’s Bayne-Jones Army Community Hospital, was found in the deep woods next to Highway 467 South on Monday, said Samantha Evans, a spokeswoman for Fort Polk.
Adams’ body was found after an ambulance crew checked on an empty vehicle parked on the side of the road, Evans said Wednesday.
Preliminary indications are there was no foul play involved in Adams’ death, Evans said. The cause of death and other specific details of this case are currently under investigation, she said.
Rest in Peace Morlin, Staff Sargent Enoch B. Adams
Ill leave the chair open for you.
Being Alexus 