A Fallen Hero

by Sharon Kimbra Walsh

  She sat down and her attention was wholly on her meal. She did not even bother to look around the mess with her usual alertness and interest. He wondered if it was because she just wanted to eat and get it over with so she could leave.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed some members of his squad enter the mess, and he recognized Corporal Dan Reed, who had shown so much interest in his wife. He felt a wave of annoyance as the young corporal saw Katie sitting alone, and he and the rest of the men headed toward her table.

  “Hey, Andy.”

  Katie, hearing a male voice using an unfamiliar name, almost glanced around her to see who the Andy was but raising her gaze, she saw Dan Reed together with half a dozen other men standing beside her.

  Forcing a smile of greeting onto her face, Katie asked, “Andy? Who’s Andy?”

  Dan Reed answered her smile with one of his own. “You’re one of us now so you get to have a nickname,” he answered. “This bunch of rugrats is Nuts—whose name will prove self-explanatory once you get to know him”—Dan, jerking his thumb at the rest of his companions, continued with his introductions—”Mental, Mattie, Bones, Womble, Slither, Neanderthal and the shit ugly one on the end is Shrek. And as you assholes already know this is Andy, our medic.”

  All the men nodded in Katie’s direction, offering her friendly grins, then they all propped their weapons against chairs and the table and ambled off to get their breakfasts.

  Dan Reed sat down in a chair beside Katie and asked, “Are you okay?”

  Pushing her cereal bowl away, Katie kept the smile on her face, even though her jaws were aching from the strain.

  “I’m fine,” she replied. “To what do I owe this honor?”

  “Breakfast then the briefing,” Dan answered, “Want to come with us?”

  Hesitating, Katie eventually nodded. It would be good to walk into the forthcoming briefing with someone and not alone as she had expected to.

  Dan stood up again. “Let me go get some chow and I’ll be back. Don’t go away.”

  Katie, watching the young corporal move away to the food counter, wished with all her heart that she was free to indulge in the young man’s interest but she couldn’t. She was a one-man woman and suspected that she would remain that way indefinitely, probably for the rest of her life.

  She sighed and rubbed a hand across her forehead. She was so tired and wished more than anything that she could just go back to her tent and sleep the day away. The arrival of the men back at her table loaded with their breakfasts and drinks interrupted her thoughts.

  As though they sensed her despondent mood, they began to crack jokes, rib each other and act like a group of juveniles in a school canteen. Katie’s smile became more natural and when Dan rejoined the table, he had a wonderful sense of humor, and Katie even laughed at some of his jokes.

  Joe couldn’t stop himself from occasionally glancing over at Katie. He couldn’t help but notice the unhappy expression on her face, but her smile flashed now and again and he felt glad that she wasn’t alone, that his men were looking after her.

  He still felt unhappy with what had passed between them the previous night. Through his own misguided conceptions, he had perhaps lost the most important thing in his life and if he was honest with himself—and it was about time that he was—he was beginning to deeply regret the decision he had made.

  Katie finally looked at her watch. “I hate to spoil the party,” she began, “but it’s coming up on 0845 hours.”

  Dan rose, bending down to take her bowl and empty bottle of juice. “Yep,” he agreed. “Best not piss off the old man. Come on, ladies. Let’s get.”

  Scraping back chairs, the men all rose, picking up their weapons and slinging them over their shoulders. With Katie among them, they deposited their dirty crockery and utensils on the racks then left the mess.

  Feeling her stomach clench with nerves at the looming briefing, Katie kept her mind distracted by focusing on the conversation of the men. They included her in their conversation, chatting to her about her family life and her army career.

  They reached the USMC HQ just before 0900 hours and made their way to one of the briefing rooms. Just before she entered the double swing doors, Katie hesitated.

  She felt sudden panic at knowing that soon she would be face-to-face with Joe and was unsure if she had the strength to go through with it. Dan, preceding her through into the room beyond, turned on noticing her absence and came back to her.

  “Hey,” he said quietly, “You don’t look so hot.”

  Katie managed a small smile at him. “I’m fine,” she responded and followed him into the room where they took their seats in the center row of chairs. Having seated herself, she took out a notebook and pen from the pocket on the sleeve of her combat shirt and waited for the briefing to start. Her heart pounded unevenly and she had an anxious feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  Her head jerked up as the doors swung open and Joe and Sergeant Eastman entered. Katie focused briefly on her husband. His eyes searched the room then found and caught her gaze. He stared at her for long seconds then his glance moved on.

  “Good morning, Marines,” he announced. “Now, listen up. We have a lot to get through in a short space of time.”

  Joe turned away and pulled down a topographical map before facing forward again.

  “I take it you’ve all seen the WARNO?”

  He waited for the group to acknowledge his question before he continued. “Okay. You’ll know then that we’re moving out to FOB Nowazad. The FOB is located two hundred kilometers out, or for those who don’t yet have a decimal mindset, one hundred and twenty-five miles north of Base Independence in the District of Nowazad.”

  Joe turned to the map behind him and pointed to an area circled in bright red.

  “A brief history of the area—and try to keep awake while I give it—is that between 2006 and 2009 there were a number of interlocking insurgent compounds spread over the Nowazad area. There was an ongoing stalemate between the International Security Assistance Force—a coalition force of marines, British army, and Gurkhas—until the end of December 2009 when it appeared that the ISAF had gained the upper hand. However, Intel has alerted us to the fact that there has been an increase in insurgent sightings in the area. They poke their nasty little heads up then disappear. It’s believed that some kind of major assault is being planned and it needs to be nipped in its ass before it gets out of hand, which is where we come in.

  “Six Afghanistan National Army will meet us at the FOB to join us on missions, act as interpreters and liaise between any nationals and us. We’ll be joined by the British army at a later date when a search and destroy mission will be planned and we’ll get to kick some ass. Over the next forty-eight hours leading up to the mission, we’ll be taking part in a number of exercises consisting of IED and mine incidents, medical evacuation, communications, vehicle recovery and lots of vehicle and equipment checks.

  “Now, listen up. I need to emphasize that this is not going to be a picnic, so you need to pay attention to what I am about to say. Okay, let’s get to it. We’ll be traveling in a close column convoy, consisting of two Cougar mine-resistant, ambush protected vehicles or MRAPs, for the uninitiated, plus a light medium tactical vehicle to carry supplies out to the FOB. A Navy Explosive Ordnance Disposal Team will be on standby in case we need them and army and air force along the route will be ready and waiting to protect our asses, if we need them. Timings will vary, depending on variables on each sector of the journey.

  “Our primary route will be ten clicks east to the town of Gereshk. We take a lesser route east-northeast for fifty clicks then north by a track road to the FOB. Our primary and lesser routes are pretty well used but there will still be a need for eyes on for hostiles, IEDs, cover, concealment, obstacles etc. The track route is pretty much unknown territory over rough terrain. All routes will be reconned and checked before we set out, but you all know as well as I do that the terries always manage to pl
ant more. The weather for this year is pretty much the norm but the occasional sandstorm can appear from nowhere. We’ll deal with that factor when it crops up.

  “You should all know by now who your key personnel are and what your responsibilities are from the WARNO. Make sure you know what you are supposed to do in the event of an ambush or IED incident. Corporal Anderson is our CTM and the Aid and Litter Team will report to her in the event of an incident that involves casualties.”

  Joe glanced at Katie, who nodded, her gaze skittering away from his once she had acknowledged his statement.

  “Parts of the vehicles will need to be camouflaged, vehicle bumper markings, headlights and windshields will require toning down using a mixture of oil and sand. When leaving our start point, we’ll be moving in a period of darkness so during reduced visibility we will use blackout lights with chemlights on the front and rear of each vehicle.

  “The MRAPs and truck will need to be hardened. A vehicle is less vulnerable to the effects of fragmentation and small arms fire by adding sandbags. Its primary purpose is to protect the truck’s occupants. The protection afforded is significant and often means the difference between someone getting his nuts or his foot blown off.

  “Your own personal safety measures include the wearing of protective equipment and the use of safety belts. Make sure your seat belts are tight, otherwise whiplash may occur during an explosion. Also, fasten the seat belt as low as possible on the stomach. Use correct posture. Keep the backbone straight and supported by a backrest to better absorb shock and place feet flat on the floor.”

  Katie scribbled down various notes and listened intently to Joe’s voice. As hard as she tried, she could not keep her gaze from straying to her husband. She watched the way he handled the briefing, noticing that his voice was firm and calm and that he addressed his comments to all of them, pausing at intervals for notes to be taken then moving on.

  On one or two occasions, his gaze had focused on her and their eyes had met. At these glances, Katie tried to keep any reflection of her emotions from showing on her face and quickly glanced back at her notebook, concentrating solely on getting pertinent information down, gritting her teeth and determined not to allow her concentration to waver and allow irritating and painful thoughts of Joe to distract her.

  Joe was fully aware of his wife’s presence, had observed her quick glances at him, but felt pain at the lack of emotion on her face and in her green eyes, which had none of their usual sparkle. He could see the determination and stubbornness in her face and was almost sure that she was controlling her emotions because of his presence.

  He was proud of her ability to maintain her dignity and courage in the face of what must be—for her—a humiliating and uncomfortable situation. She also didn’t look well. There was something wrong—he could sense it—but it was too late to show concern for her now. She would reject his queries and his anxiety as just his duty to her, probably give him a mouthful and send him packing. Joe forcefully pushed the thoughts about Katie to the back of his mind and went back to the briefing.

  “Radio transmissions will be kept brief. Use low power and maintain signal silence whenever possible. When we reach the last leg of our route, we will need to maintain security elements to the front and rear and, when required, to the flanks of our convoys. The track to the FOB is an unknown quantity and we will also be using the HSTAMIDS diligently.

  “The terries seem to have the urge to plant IEDs and mines in the early hours of the morning under cover of darkness, so it’s eyes-on and observations for the first few hours even though the primary route is pretty well used. You are all aware that command-detonated mines can precede an ambush. Keep your eyes peeled for mines placed along the shoulder. A booby-trap system is very effective against personnel and equipment. Convoys have now employed guidelines to limit damage from mines. Closely track the vehicle in front, avoid driving on the shoulder of a road and whenever possible, do not run over foreign objects. Avoid potholes and fresh earth. Keep a lookout for holes in the road, puddles, boxes, wires on the road surface, evidence of vegetation disturbance, differences in plant growth such as wilting or dead foliage, irregularities in color or texture of the ground and signs warning local populace. Another lovely way for the terries to disguise their handiwork is in the carcasses of dead animals, in soda cans, trash bags and MREs—as long as the poor bastards didn’t eat the crap first. Even I could feel sorry for them if they do that.” There was brief laughter from the marines at this last statement.

  “The terries usually like to place mines on frequently used roadways leading to and from construction sites, in brush and other traffic obstructions placed on roadways, bridge bypasses and obvious turnarounds and shoulders. Watch out for local national traffic and the reactions of people on foot because they will often give away the location of any mines or booby traps.

  “Designated drivers should watch for suspicious activity on overpasses and never stop under one. Enemy hide positions will usually have line of sight to the kill zone and an easy escape route. They lay IEDs along the side of a road on the shoulder or daisy chained in a decoy attack.

  “Okay, now the interesting shit is finished with I’ll give you the bad news. I want you all to move accommodations. We have new accommodation in Sector D, our marshaling area. This is where we will carry out our drills and inspections. We have already taken delivery of the Cougars and the truck, and I want you all there with your equipment for 1100 hours this morning. Delivery of supplies will commence tomorrow at 1400 hours. Mission start will be 0400 hours two days from now. Corporal Anderson?”

  Joe turned to Katie, who was staring at him in horror.

  “Yes, Staff Sergeant,” she responded after attempting to clear her throat.

  “You need to move your kit as well, and no, you won’t be sharing with these numbnuts, you’ll be pleased to know. You’ll have a tent all to yourself. You’ll be solely in charge of checking the medical supplies and ordering anything else that you might need. You’ll also have responsibility for storing all the equipment. If you need any help, get one of these ladies to give you a hand.”

  Joe paused, staring at Katie for long seconds, until she nodded.

  “Yes, Staff Sergeant,” she responded, and he heard her voice tremble then eventually she looked back down at her notebook.

  “Okay.” Joe turned back to the marines. “You’ve got one-and-one-half hours to collect your gear and report to Sector D. Get going.”

  At Joe’s final words, Katie jumped to her feet, sliding her notebook and pen back into the pocket on the sleeve of her combat shirt. Then after quickly grabbing her weapon, she made for the doors of the briefing room. She felt suddenly claustrophobic and needed to get outside.

  Hurrying through the crowd of milling men, Katie thrust her way out of the room and almost ran down the corridor, slamming out through the doors. Once outside, she took a deep breath of the sultry air and closed her eyes.

  She had stupidly thought she could control her emotions on seeing Joe but it hadn’t worked. Being in his presence caused a surge of love and longing so powerful that it was proving to be a difficult internal battle to keep her concentration entirely focused on what she was doing. Now, she felt lonelier than she could have ever imagined herself to be.

  A hand landed on her shoulder—interrupting her thoughts—and Dan’s voice said, “There you are.”

  Steeling herself and forcing a smile to her face, Katie turned. “Here I am,” she replied.

  “I thought you might need some help getting your gear together,” Dan asked.

  Katie felt relief that she was being accompanied, even though the offer came from a man who obviously had feelings for her and would need to be let down gently. Her smile more genuine, Katie nodded. “Thanks, Dan. I’d appreciate that.”

  “Good, let’s go then. We don’t have much time,” Dan urged and the two moved off down the road toward the women’s accommodation.

  Chapter Seventeen

>   With her medical pack in one hand and her own personal one in the other, Katie pushed her way through the tent flap and made her way to join Lima squad for their final pre-mission briefing.

  It was 0330 hours in the morning and still dark, although on the distant horizon there was a faint lightening to navy blue as a new day prepared to dawn. The moon was still full, even though it was low in the sky and a faint warm breeze lifted wispy curls of hair to tease Katie’s warm cheeks.

  She paused outside the tent where she had spent the last forty-eight hours alone and she glanced around her. She knew for whom she was searching but after a few minutes, failed to find him.

  Taking a deep breath of the early morning air, her senses welcomed the smells of sun-heated earth, oil and aviation fuel and the mumbled grumblings of the ever-present generators. Even through the turmoil of her emotions, she felt a brief twinge of excitement interspersed with sharp pangs of anxiety at the forthcoming mission. She hadn’t been able to shake the thought that the next few weeks were going to be the hardest of her life and not just on a personal level.

  Members of Lima squad milled restlessly in the area in front of the row of tents, talking quietly and smoking, their large, heavily laden rucksacks piled on the ground ready to be loaded into the convoy vehicles. All the men were dressed in full combat clothing, weapons slung casually over their shoulders and a number of marines—by their jerky gestures—appeared nervous. Occasionally an outburst of raucous laughter shattered the silence as someone cracked a joke—the volume and over-the-top humor proclaiming the pressure of the moment.

  Katie’s mind went back over the previous two days. She and the rest of the squad had not had a moment to draw a relaxed breath. If they were not receiving supplies, checking same then unloading them, taking part in drills or attending the constant mission briefings for updated Intel, Katie herself was inventorying her own medical supplies and equipment, ordering items that she was short of and thereafter making sure that all of it was stored according to regulations in the MRAPs and the truck. She had only caught six hours of sleep over the last forty-eight, alone in a tent meant for twenty-four people. It had been an uncomfortable, isolating experience and she had wished on numerous occasions that Joe would put in an appearance to speak to her or to see how she was, but there had been no sign of him.