A Fallen Hero

by Sharon Kimbra Walsh

  Joe came to a dead stop and glanced up to see his sergeant standing directly in front of him. He raised an eyebrow enquiringly.

  “How is Katie?” Sergeant Eastman asked again.

  Joe tipped his helmet back on his head and sighed.

  “Pretty cut up about things,” he answered at last, “She’s just cleaning up, then she’ll have to make a report to the CTT when it comes in.”

  “It must be tough on her,” Louis Eastman responded, “first time and all that.”

  Joe nodded in agreement. “Yeah,” he answered. “But she’s tough. She’ll get through it. She just needs time.”

  He cocked his head at the sound of a helicopter approaching at low level. “Get the men together, Sergeant. I need to radio the base, see what they want us to do. There might be a mission abort.”

  Sergeant Eastman nodded and strode off and Joe continued making his way back to the radio, his mind back on his duties.

  Back at the rear of the courtyard, Katie watched Joe as he walked away. She desperately needed him at that moment and the look on his face had confirmed that if it had been at all possible, he would have taken her in his arms and comforted her. Nevertheless, that had been impossible and now she was left feeling more alone than ever.

  She glanced abstractedly at the blood lathering her hands and knew that she needed to get herself moving. Isolating herself and dwelling on what had happened was not the way to get through this deep but brief emotional crisis.

  Ripping off the bloody nitrile gloves, she turned to her pack and took out two bottles of water and a towel and began to blindly clean her face and hands. She winced as the cleansing revealed torn and abraded skin on her left hand and she realized that she herself needed first aid treatment for her own wounds. The gloves hadn’t been able to protect her completely from the rocky terrain.

  Knowing that the CTT would be nearing their location soon, she paid particular attention to getting her grazes and cuts as clean as possible before she took out some antibiotic ointment, gauze and a bandage from her medical pack. She hastily smeared the ointment on the palm and fingers of her hand, placed the gauze in position and skillfully wound the bandage on, fastening it securely with the elasticized gripper fastenings. Finally, she took off her body armor and combat shirt then, while keeping watch for anyone approaching, she quickly took off her damp T-shirt and put on the spare one.

  She tried to sponge the blood from her shirt before giving up and putting it back on. With no hope of washing the blood from her body armor, she had no choice but to wear it with the smears of red still adorning it. Again, she did her best to try to wash the blood away with water but gave up. Quickly bundling her dirty T-shirt back into her pack, she replaced the medical supplies she had used and got tiredly to her feet.

  Reluctant to return to the rest of the squad, she hesitated. She knew that she was being unreasonably paranoid about what the rest of the men might be thinking about her or blaming her for but it was taking what little courage she had left to join them.

  Hearing the sound of a helicopter approaching, she knew that the decision was out of her hands. She picked up the rucksack and shrugged her arms through its webbing. She groaned from its weight and when she bent down to pick up her weapon, she almost toppled forward.

  With the noise of the medevac helicopter growing closer, Katie stiffened her shoulders and her resolve and left her sanctuary, walking back out toward where the squad were milling around the courtyard.

  As she walked slowly to join them, she felt her shoulders slump and became aware that her feet were dragging in the dust. She wanted to hide, not have to face the report she had to give to the CTT about the death of the marine and to have to face the possible condemnation from the rest of the men. She knew that she was being ridiculous but was unable to convince herself otherwise. She wished that Joe was with her to offer moral support but knew that she had to face this alone if she was ever going to put the incident behind her. Drawing on the remains of her courage, she straightened her shoulders and lifted her head.

  She was surprised to see that it was dusk, the sky bathed in glowing orange, gold and red as the sun sank down behind the distant mountains. Torch beams were flickering around her and someone had lit some white chemlight glow sticks and laid them at strategic points around the main area of the courtyard.

  As she approached the main squad, a marine came toward her and as they passed each other, Katie couldn’t help but glance at his face. She was quite shocked when, instead of the reproach and accusation she was prepared to see, he nodded at her and said, “Ma’am,” and continued walking on.

  Other marines packing their equipment turned at her arrival and also acknowledged her presence with nods and small smiles and Katie knew with a profound sense of relief that there was nobody within the squad holding any blame against her for the death of their friend.

  Reaching a pile of equipment piled in the center of the courtyard, Katie came to a stop. The sound of the helicopter was louder and Joe suddenly stepped through the gap in the wall.

  “Okay, Marines, gather round!” he shouted.

  The squad responded to the order and as they joined him, Joe continued, “The medevac will be here in five. I want four men outside the walls laying down some smoke and setting up a perimeter around the bird when it lands. We don’t know if there are any more hostiles around. They might come back for their buddies. I want six more of you men to pace the perimeter of the compound. Stay close to the walls. There may be mines. A second bird will vector in, in about thirty minutes to extract us. We’re going back, ladies, so you can get your beauty sleep. Now let’s move it. Stay frosty. Keep your eyes peeled. Sergeant Eastman?”

  The usual marine mantra erupted as Joe turned as his assistant patrol leader joined him. “Take the men out beyond the wall and set them up.”

  Sergeant Eastman nodded and suddenly yelled out at parade ground volume level, “Okay, let’s move it. Grab your weapons. We’re not here for our health. Move it, Marines, double time.”

  He started jogging toward the courtyard wall and ten armed marines followed him, boots thudding on the hard ground, their combats merging into the fading light.

  Katie, alone for the moment and not sure what to do with herself, heard the approaching helicopter at a point almost overhead and glanced up to see the red winking landing lights and the dim pale red glow from the cockpit as the Chinook neared the compound then veered to the right.

  She next saw a pillar of red smoke rise into the air as the marines laid down the markers for the landing zone and the Chinook begin to descend out of sight beyond the low buildings, its huge pair of rotor blades creating a billowing cloud of dust and sand that obliterated the huge helicopter’s dim outline.

  A few moments later, Katie saw the CTT approaching her through the encroaching darkness. She stood to attention as the officer in charge came to stand in front of her, and Katie saluted him. The remaining members of the CTT moved toward the body of the dead marine. Averting her eyes, Katie focused on the man standing in front of her. Beyond him, she could see Joe standing watching.

  “Corporal Anderson,” the officer began, and Katie nodded. “I’m Captain Milligan. You have a report for me?”

  Katie nodded, cleared her throat and hesitantly began to describe what had happened, the treatment she had given to the dead marine, the dosage for each separate medication and the result. The officer took some notes, accepted her own brief written report that she had hastily completed when she had been alone after Joe had left her and once she had finished, he nodded.

  He remained silent for a few minutes and then said, “Your report is perfectly reasonable in difficult circumstances. You may not feel it now, Corporal, but good job.” He nodded at her again, turned, sighted Joe and went toward him.

  Katie heaved a huge sigh of relief at discovering that she had done everything that had been in her power to do and with that relief, a sudden wave of exhaustion swept over her. Her limbs suddenly
trembling and her head swimming she found that she desperately needed to sit down. Turning, she walked to the wall of a building, took off her pack and dropped it to the ground. Sighing wearily, she slid down the wall until she was sitting on the sand. Leaning her head back against it, she closed her eyes.

  Having finished his debrief with the CTT officer and saluting his departure smartly, Joe turned to watch as the body, now encased in a bag on a stretcher, was carried respectfully out of the compound. Within a few minutes, he heard the medevac helicopter’s engines rev up to full power, the two enormous sets of rotor blades tearing at the air, then watched as it rose gracefully into the sky and, banking slowly, sped off into the now-dark night.

  Once its lights had disappeared, Joe turned back to see where Katie had gone. He saw her sitting on the ground leaning against a wall and to his intense irritation, saw that Corporal Dan Reed was crouched beside her.

  “For fuck’s sake! God damn it!” Joe exclaimed under his breath, anger at the young marine’s constant attention to his wife building up inside him. He had every intention of going over to them both and sending the young corporal away with a flea in his ear when Sergeant Eastman came jogging back into the compound.

  “The medevac got away safely, no problems,” Louis Eastman volunteered. He glanced up when Joe failed to answer him. “Crap,” he muttered when he saw that Joe’s full attention was on Katie and the young corporal. Turning back to Joe, he was just about to make a comment about the situation when Joe suddenly said in a voice that seethed with fury and violence, “Louis. Will you please get that fucking kid away from my wife before I take him out?”

  Immediately realizing what he had just let slip, Joe shoved his helmet back on his head, turned, and noting the shocked expression on his sergeant’s face, said angrily, “Shit, you weren’t supposed to know that.”

  Louis nodded his head. “No, I don’t suppose I was,” he said quietly. “Kindly enlighten me.”

  Joe sighed. “It’s kind of complicated,” he responded at last with an evasive note in his voice. “We got married a couple of months ago. We have a daughter back in the States but we sorta split and here we are.”

  He studied Louis Eastman’s confused expression. Oh, shit. I’m screwed.

  “You sorta split. You have a daughter and you’re here. Katie is here?” Louis asked. “Joe, what the fuck is going on?”

  Turning back to watch Katie and Dan Reed carefully, not taking his eyes off them for one second, Joe shook his head.

  “I don’t want to go into it now. I’ll tell you one day. But for now, give that dickwad a duty, send him outside the wall, anything… Just get him the hell away from my wife.”

  Louis moved closer to his friend. “Take it easy, Joe. He’s just a kid. I’ll move him on.”

  With that the sergeant turned and shouted at Corporal Reed, “Reed, get your butt over here.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  With the exception of the six marines forming a security perimeter around the Chinook that had arrived for their extraction, Katie and the rest of the squad filed up the ramp of the helicopter into its interior. They were unusually silent with none of their crude humor in evidence, a haggard weariness showing on some of their faces.

  Shrugging out of their equipment, they took their respective places in the metal bucket seats and, placing their rucksacks between their legs, strapped themselves in. Once settled, many of them leaned their helmeted heads back against the metal skin of the helicopter and closed their eyes.

  Katie found her own seat and buckled in. She could hear Joe yelling orders outside then he and Sergeant Eastman came jogging up the ramp, followed by the remaining contingent of the squad. The ramp rose automatically and the night sky was obliterated, leaving them in the dim, artificial light of the helicopter.

  Katie was surprised when Louis Eastman took the seat on her left and Joe the one on her right. Joe barely acknowledged her, but once he had buckled himself in, his leg came to rest against hers. She could feel the warmth through her combat trousers and, as tired as she was, it sent tingles through her body. She pressed her own leg slightly against his and felt a warm joy when she received a response.

  “Hey, Sarge.”

  Dan Reed’s voice sounded above the noise of the helicopter engines. “Play fair.”

  Katie glanced up and saw Dan looking at Sergeant Eastman, gesturing for him to move. She felt the muscles in Joe’s leg tense then a marine two seats down from them said, “For fuck sake, Danno. Why would the lady want you slathering all over her? Sit down, why don’t you?”

  “Yeah, give her a break, Danno. We’d all like to get back to the fucking base some time tonight,” voiced another marine.

  Sergeant Eastman lifted a gloved hand and, raising one finger, pointed to the empty seat opposite them. “Sit,” he ordered.

  Muttering under his breath, Dan Reed obeyed, slamming his pack onto the metal plating of the helicopter floor between his legs and sitting back, strapping himself into his seat.

  Katie gave him a brief smile then leaning back against the cold metal skin of the helicopter, closed her eyes. She heard, as per normal procedure, the engines start to rise in pitch, the rotor blades speed up, then with barely a jolt, they were in the air.

  Katie’s whole awareness centered on the presence of her husband seated beside her. He dominated her thoughts. The feel of his leg against hers and the flexing of his muscles through his combat shirt as his arm touched her body sent shivers down into her stomach.

  In her depressed frame of mind, she just wanted to say to hell with keeping up the charade of not knowing each other and snuggle into him. Holding her breath, she edged slightly toward him, millimeter by millimeter, coming to rest more firmly against his arm.

  Joe seemed to acknowledge her action by pressing his leg imperceptibly against hers. Feeling a good degree more relaxed at his closeness, Katie rested her head back again, difficult because of her helmet but more relaxing nonetheless, and she closed her eyes.

  As cold and noisy as it was inside the helicopter, Katie dozed, physically and emotionally exhausted. Gradually the gentle maneuvers of the Chinook and her own deepening sleep caused her body to relax and she slid sideways until her helmeted head came to rest on Joe’s shoulder.

  Feeling her there, Joe smiled inwardly. She would be mortified that the whole squad would see her sleeping against him but if he was truthful with himself, it felt great to have her snuggled into him and he could care less who saw them. She felt soft and warm and he had an almost insane urge to put his arm around her and pull her close but realized that that was out of the question.

  After a further thirty minutes of flying time, the Chinook started its descent into Base Independence and eventually touched down on the helicopter apron. At the slight thud of the landing gear hitting the concrete surface, Katie jerked awake to find her head resting comfortably on her husband’s shoulder. Her face immediately burned with embarrassment and she raised her head hastily.

  Straightening her helmet on her head, she said quietly, “So sorry, Staff Sergeant. I’m afraid I…er…dozed off.”

  “No problem, Corporal,” Joe replied equally quietly and left it at that.

  The ramp lowered and the marines began to unbuckle themselves from their seats, shrug on their rucksacks and collect their weapons, to file slowly out onto the helicopter apron.

  As Katie stepped out of the Chinook, she thought tiredly that it had never felt so good to be back at the base with its almost comforting smells of aviation fuel and oil, the noise of the generators and the bustling of personnel.

  She followed the marines across the apron—taking a deep breath of the chilly night air—to where two Bulldog armored personnel carriers—APCs—waited to transport them back to Camp Roosevelt. As she approached one of the vehicles, she was stopped by a familiar voice calling out, “Corporal Anderson.”

  Turning, she noticed Joe walking toward her and stopped to wait for him.

  “Hey,” he
said quietly when he reached her side.

  Katie nodded and smiled.

  “There’s no need for you to attend the debriefing,” Joe went on. “Go get some chow and sleep. You look all in.”

  Katie gazed at her husband’s shadowed features. “I don’t understand,” she began. “When will we see each other?”

  Joe hesitated, glancing down at the ground. Eventually looking back at her he finally answered, “I don’t know. I have a lot to do over the next few days. Scuttlebutt has it that there’s going to be some kind of a big mission and I have to attend a shit load of briefings. I’ll try and find some time—”

  Katie interrupted him with a small harsh laugh. “I’m sorry?” she queried. “You’ll try and find some time to see me?”

  The trauma of the last few days and the weariness she was feeling combined with Joe’s seemingly callous statement about finding time to see her—his wife—caused tears to spring to her eyes and she lifted her chin stubbornly.

  Joe tried to apologize. “Katie, I didn’t mean it like that. I will see you, I just don’t know when.”

  Resentful at the part that she was finding herself having to play through no fault of her own, heartsick at the hot and cold actions of her husband and finally out of patience and understanding, Katie had had enough.

  “I tell you what, Joe,” she snapped in a voice that, while low, was cutting. “You come and find me when you can allocate some time for me in your social calendar. Until then, screw you and leave me alone.”

  Without seeing what reaction this final remark had initiated, Katie turned on her heel and went to the second APC. The doors were standing open and as she reached them, she tossed her pack into its interior. Dan Reed, seated closest to the doors, leaned forward, reaching out a hand to assist her and without hesitation, knowing that Joe was watching, Katie grasped the young marine’s hand and climbed into the vehicle.

  Joe stood where he was for a brief moment, alone and hurt at the unexpected altercation with Katie. He couldn’t believe that the hostility between himself and his wife had reared its ugly head again. He was well aware that his careless statement, spoken in all innocence, had hurt Katie and he cursed himself inwardly at his lack of thought before he had opened his mouth.