A Fallen Hero

by Sharon Kimbra Walsh

  Once the men had moved, Katie took a combat casualty blanket from her pack and, unfolding it, spread it across the woman’s slightly raised knees. Making reassuring noises, Katie gently pushed the woman’s knees into a more bent position and farther apart.

  Speaking aloud, she said, “Dan? Can you please tell the husband to tell his wife that I am here to deliver her baby? Tell her that I need to examine her and that I will not hurt her. I have to know how the baby is lying and whether there is room for it to be born.”

  Dan relayed the message to the man and he in turn explained it to his wife. The woman stared at Katie, wide-eyed, and made a small pitiful noise but then nodded.

  “Okay. Let’s do this,” she murmured to herself. She positioned herself between the woman’s legs and carefully and gently examined her. After making her assessment, she said, “She is fully dilated and the baby is crowning. She is very narrow so there might not be enough room but she needs to push. Dan, can you please tell her husband to tell her that she needs to push as hard as she can at the next pain.”

  While Dan was relaying the request to the husband, Katie glanced quickly at Joe. He was staring at her and as he saw her gaze on him, he winked slightly and said, “You can do this, Corporal.”

  Katie nodded and turned back to her patient. Placing a gentle hand on the woman’s stomach, she felt the abdominal muscles begin to tighten and saw a grimace on the woman’s face, confirming that a contraction was on its way. She said in a commanding voice, “Push!”

  The husband relayed the word and the woman uttered a wail of fear and frantically shook her head.

  “Push,” Katie ordered again and glared at the husband. “She has to push, otherwise the baby will start to suffer. Dan, tell him she needs to push.”

  Dan, his voice sounding nervous, spoke at length to the woman’s husband who in turn spoke to the woman. Katie held the young woman’s eyes and nodded.

  Gritting her teeth, her face turning bright red with the effort, the woman raised her head and began to push hard. Katie raised a hand and lifted first one finger, then two and so on until she had alternately raised ten fingers, then she gestured with the palm of her hand to stop. The woman’s head slumped back against her husband and she closed her eyes, whimpering with the effort.

  “That’s excellent,” Katie praised, giving the laboring woman a minute or two to regain her breath then, “Again. Push!”

  For about five minutes, with Dan then the woman’s husband relaying Katie’s requests, she cajoled, ordered, then bullied until at last she delivered the child’s head and could finally see what the problem was.

  Trying to keep the alarm out of her voice, she ordered sharply, “Stop pushing.” She looked up at Dan. “Dan. Don’t repeat this but the baby has the cord wrapped around its neck. I have to unwind it. Tell her under no circumstances must she push.”

  As the room fell silent, Katie hooked a finger beneath a tight loop of umbilical cord around the infant’s neck, tugged gently, then firmly unwound it. Once the baby was free, she stared intently at the woman and said, “Okay, push. Push as hard as you can.”

  The woman, at last seeming to understand, obeyed, her face contorting, every muscle straining in her frail body, a wail of pain coming from her mouth, which spiraled up into the air in a scream and finally, the baby slithered out into Katie’s waiting hands. She quickly turned it on its side and using her little finger, scooped out the mucus from inside its mouth. The child spluttered, choked then let out a lusty cry.

  The Afghan man suddenly laughed and gently stroked his wife’s forehead. The young woman opened her eyes at the sound of her baby’s cry and offered a weak, tired smile of her own.

  Katie, cuddling the newborn, carried out a visual assessment then said to Dan, “Tell them it’s a boy, small but he’s fine with ten fingers and ten toes. He looks surprisingly healthy. We have to wait for the placenta to deliver. Can you ask if they have something to wrap the baby in?”

  As if he understood, the man got up from the blankets and hurried from the room. In a few minutes, he returned, carrying a brightly colored, beautifully crafted afghan blanket that he handed almost reverently to Katie, who was cleaning the baby with some gauze and bottled water.

  Once she had dried the now-sleeping infant, she wrapped him gently in the elaborate cover then, standing up, went to the woman and laid him gently in her waiting arms. The man gently touched his son’s thick black hair then stood up and proceeded to approach Dan, Joe and Katie. With the palms of his hands placed together as though in prayer, he bowed to each of them in turn, murmuring, “As-salamu alaykum.”

  Katie inclined her head, thanking the new father, then went back to the bed. She massaged the woman’s abdomen, waiting for the next stage of the baby’s birth then once this had taken place, gave the placenta to the husband to dispose of. After cleaning the woman, making her more comfortable then washing her own hands in bottled water, she turned to Joe.

  “Can I speak to you, Staff Sergeant?” she asked.

  “Yeah, sure,” Joe replied and drew her to one side. “What’s up?”

  “They can’t stay here,” she began. “This is no place for a newborn.”

  Joe put his hands on his hips. “What do you want me to do?” he asked.

  Katie heard the note of impatience in his voice but continued, “We need to medevac them out of here. The dust alone could cause the baby to become sick and the woman could contract an infection. We need to get them extracted to the CTH.”

  “Sorry, Corporal. That’s going to have to be a no.”

  Katie glared at him. “Why?” she asked, her tone barely civil.

  Joe straightened. “Because, Corporal, these people are proud and will not leave their homes. It probably took a helluva lot for that guy to jump out in front of the convoy like that. Besides, we have a mission to complete and we need to get out of here before anything else gets fucked up beyond all recognition.”

  “Oh, yes, right, your precious mission. I forgot how important it was to you,” Katie snapped, her voice still low. She saw Joe stiffen at her tone and frown, his brows lowering over his eyes.

  “You’re stepping over the line on this one, Corporal,” he replied.

  “I’ll step over the line anytime where a patient is concerned,” Katie protested stubbornly, knowing that she was pushing her luck. “The baby will suffer if we leave him and the mother in this godforsaken place.”

  Joe pointed a finger at her. “Enough of this shit, Corporal. Don’t fucking push me on this. It’s a no.” With that, he turned his back on her and thumbed his PRR.

  Katie stood glaring at his back then strode to her pack, bent and slammed it closed. Picking it up, she shrugged into its straps, and turned back to Joe.

  “I’m ready to leave, Staff Sergeant,” she announced coldly and with a last look at the new family, she left the tiny disheveled room, wondering whether the newborn would live and feeling a terrible sadness that she could not help the pathetically proud family.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Once everyone was safely back inside the vehicles and with no further hindrance—the crowd having gone about their business—the convoy crawled through the single street for another hour until eventually it reached the outskirts of the town. The tumbled buildings and blatantly poor lifestyle of the Afghan people began to turn once more back to the dun-colored flatlands of the desert.

  Katie—exhausted—slumped back in her seat, feeling sadness at the poverty she had seen, particularly the lost and lonely children wandering the streets, thin and hungry.

  She wondered if their presence in Afghanistan had done any good for these people at all, whether the ISAF’s offered protection from the Taliban was worth all the deaths and the destruction of their homes.

  The Taliban took hostages from small villages and towns as they moved through them and onward, using them as a shield to prevent themselves being set on by security forces. Whichever way you looked at it, the Afghanistan people could
n’t win. On the one hand, the constant infiltration of the Taliban into their lives, on the other, the security forces plaguing them in their attempts to protect them and help them, ended up causing as much damage as the enemy.

  “Okay, Marines,” Joe suddenly announced, startling Katie from her thoughts. “In a few minutes we’ll be stopping at a building where we’ll have an hour’s downtime. Before we dismount, I want two HSTAMIDS teams out—you know who you are—and a sweep done of the perimeter, walls and doors.”

  He thumbed his PRR, repeated the order to the occupants of the truck and second MRAP, then said, “Corporal Anderson, dismount and stay with me until the sweep is done.”

  “Yes, Staff Sergeant,” Katie acknowledged the order.

  Still feeling angry with her husband, she was unable to stop herself from feeling a small thrill of internal excitement when she realized that in a few minutes she would be able to be with him, then immediately felt annoyed at herself for feeling as she did.

  Girl, she thought, you need to get a grip. Make up your mind what you want, Joe or your own personal feeling of worth.

  She was tired of her mind warring with her heart. One minute she wanted to hurt him as he had hurt her, the next she wanted them back as they were, melted when he looked at her, and desperately wanted him.

  In the front of the MRAP, Joe’s face reflected in the over-sized windshield mirror. As if they were telepathically connected, Joe’s gaze caught hers and held it.

  Joe saw her green eyes looking into his and with a painful jolt in his stomach, realized that she still loved him. She drove him mad sometimes with her stubbornness and her refusal to back down, particularly on a mission. He tried to tell her with his own gaze how he still felt about her and watched as a flush of color mounted in her cheeks. As he saw her response, a small smile twitched at his mouth.

  Reluctantly withdrawing his gaze from hers and forcefully turning his mind to the present, Joe thumbed his PRR and ordered, “All on this net…let’s move it. I want the guns manned in both MRAPs and two two-man security teams wait out until everything is clear. Let’s move. Go.”

  A few minutes later, the MRAP halted, the heavy back doors of the vehicle hissed open and Katie, struggling with a pack on each shoulder, her weapon held across her forearms, climbed slowly down the steps.

  She winced as heat from the harsh sun hit her like a slap in the face. Squinting against the glaring light, she studied her surroundings—endless flat, desolate landscape with a heat-haze shimmering and rippling in the distance, distorting an unending vista of brown and ochre cracked desert dotted here and there with scorched, stunted vegetation, which clung to what little life it could eke out in the barren harshness. There was not a breath of wind to dissipate the clouds of dust stirred up by their passage along the road that hung almost motionless in the stagnant air. The surrounding desert was silent now that the vehicle engines were quiet.

  She moved around to the left flank of the vehicle, joining Joe who was now standing by the driver’s door. She struggled to draw the heavy, burning air into her lungs and sweat broke out on her face, beginning to trickle down between her breasts and along her spine.

  Trying to ignore the suffocating temperature, she turned in a slow circle, trying to pierce the distant haze in an effort to see if the squad was alone. She could see nothing beyond a few hundred meters because of the dust clouds. Glancing to her right, her gaze finally rested on the long, low, partially ruined, sand-colored building toward which four men were moving very slowly and carefully.

  Two men in a line abreast of each other carried a mine detector each, which they swept slowly from side to side. The second row of two men walked precisely behind and in the footsteps of the men in front, weapons pointing out to the left and right, scrutinizing the landscape on either side.

  Katie watched as they reached the building and split into two teams, one going to the left, the other to the right, both swiftly sweeping the perimeter, window frames, and doors. Tension mounted as the four men disappeared out of sight around each end of the building, finally appearing back at the front before entering through the doorless entrance. Time dragged interminably before both teams re-emerged from the interior and Katie breathed an audible sigh of relief as a radio transmission confirmed that all was clear.

  “All on this net…stand down. Sergeant Eastman, detail one security team to patrol the perimeter. Rotate teams every fifteen minutes.” Joe spoke into his radio then silently gestured for Katie to follow him.

  Following the flattened areas in the sand and dust made by the mine detectors and the slight indentations of footprints created by the men, they paced the exact same newly-cleared route to the building.

  Avidly scanning the ground for anything that could possibly resemble a mine or an IED, Katie followed Joe, keeping precisely behind him as she had seen the others do.

  She heaved a sigh of relief when they eventually reached safety and heard the rumble of engines as both MRAPs moved location to take up position at either end of the building, one vehicle facing their approach route, the other pointing in the direction they had yet to take. The supply truck parked parallel to the building between both MRAPs.

  On entering the building, Katie was relieved to be out of the hot sun. Although the temperature remained high, inside it was tolerable. Shafts of sunlight speared through the glassless windows lining the front and sides of the structure, motes spinning and dancing in the light as her boots stirred up the dust lying thickly on the cracked mud floor. As she looked around, from what she could see of the interior, it was distinctly unwelcoming with dirty bare walls, rotten woodwork and with part of the flat roof open to the elements. Katie wrinkled her nose when she detected the odor of rot and decay.

  The rest of the squad came almost tumbling through the open doorway, uttering groans of satisfaction, throwing equipment down onto the ground, propping weapons against the mud walls, weary bodies slumping down beside them.

  Katie found her own space on the floor some distance away from the rest of the men, most of whom were gulping water from bottles, ravenously eating MREs or simply using their rucksacks as pillows as they lay down and closed their eyes. Dropping both of hers to the floor with relief, Katie seated herself beside them and immediately extracted her own bottle of water, drinking long blissful swallows from it. Leaning her head back against the wall behind her, she closed her eyes and tried to relax for what little downtime they had left. A few minutes later, she heard movement beside her and on opening her eyes was surprised to see that Joe had joined her, seating himself on the floor.

  “You okay?” he asked quietly, glancing sideways at her as he removed his gloves and helmet.

  Katie nodded, giving him a small smile. “I’m fine,” she answered equally quietly.

  Turning to prop his M4 against the wall, Joe ordered gently, “Make sure you rehydrate and eat something. I don’t want you passing out.” He turned back to stare at her.

  Katie nodded and as she continued to look at him, their brief argument back where she had delivered the baby seemingly forgotten, he winked at her. She felt her emotions soar to a new level as she realized that there was something left of her marriage after all, but before she could assimilate this much-needed revelation, her fragile peace was shattered as Sergeant Dana Edwards entered the building and moving with a purpose, approached her and Joe and sat down on his opposite side. She began to speak to him in a voice that was low and private.

  Almost hissing aloud at the interruption, Katie grabbed her helmet, thumped it on her head, slung her weapon over her shoulder and with a bottle of water in her hand, rose to her feet and strode outside.

  Watching her go, Joe heard Dana remark, “That little lady sure has an attitude problem.”

  Joe, glancing at his sergeant, found himself almost snapping back at her, “That little lady happens to be my wife,” but stopped himself just in time.

  Dana wanted them back on their old romantic footing, wanted something he was n
ot prepared to give—in fact, did not want to give but if he told her this, it would create awkward questions about his and Katie’s relationship and he did not want Katie subjected to any further hurt or humiliation. Instead, keeping silent, he leaned back against the wall with the intention of relaxing for a few minutes before checking on his men.

  Dana placed a hand on his arm and brushed herself against him. “So, what is it between you and Corporal Anderson?”

  Joe’s eyes flew open and he gazed straight at the beautiful face, inches away from his own. “What makes you think there’s anything between me and Corporal Anderson?” he asked carefully.

  “Well, there was on your last tour,” Dana answered. “I believe you mentioned that it was possibly the love affair of the century. And now she’s in your squad. A pretty big coincidence, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, a pretty big coincidence, Dana. And that’s all it is. By the way, sarcasm doesn’t become you,” Joe answered, gritting his teeth, anger beginning to flare in his stomach, feeling threatened at the encroaching questions about his personal life. “It’s none of your goddamn business anyway.”

  “Whoa,” Dana responded. “It was a simple question, Joe. There was no need to bite my head off.” She rose gracefully to her feet. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts then.”

  Joe watched with narrowed eyes as the woman moved away from him, heading to exit from the building. He had the feeling that Dana was on a non-stop course to speak to Katie and he wondered with a sense of irritation what she was going to say. Amusement followed on the steps of the irritation as he mused what Katie’s reaction was going to be and wished he was a fly on the wall and able to watch.

  Outside, Katie moved along the side of the building until she found a shady spot thrown by the roof and sat down. Taking off her helmet, she slammed it down on the ground beside her, shoved her weapon out of the way with some irritation and unscrewed the cap of the water bottle, taking a large swallow of the lukewarm water. Absentmindedly, she put the top back on and rested her head back against the wall behind her, closing her eyes.