We are allowed to rest inside the Marine quarters while second platoon takes watch around the embassy perimeter. There was little discussion of this, as we have been gone on missions all week, and second platoon has been back at Khandahar. There was only a contingent of fifteen or so Marines when the embassy was last open, and there is not nearly enough room for all of us. We are cramped inside too little space, laying nut to butt.
“Fuck, dude. There going to need to expand this place.” Cory says. “We need some fucking breathing room.”
“What makes you think their ever going to put Marines here?” Bill asks. “What makes you think their not going to just staff it with mercs?”
“Fuck no.” Cory says. “All Embassies are guarded by Marines. They have to have this one that way too.”
“Yeah. And all those marines wear dress blues.”
“So, this one will be flak and Kevlar. This one is different.”
“Im telling you, man. It’s the way of the future. Soon, all wars will be fought by PMC’s.”
“Isnt that a Playstation game?”
“What do you mean?”
“that’s a Playstation game. Where all the wars are fought by PMC’s. that’s a playstation game, and its called MAG.”
“Your point is?”
“My point is, motherfucker, that your taking a Playstation game, and trying to pass it off as your own, original, idea. And I caught your ass at it.”
“The idea is still legit.”
“It is? You know what else is legit?”
“No.”
“These nuts in your mouth. Cause I caught your ass.”
“Huuuagh.”
John Sack is at the door, smiling. “Well, Marines. I just wanted to say, good luck. I’m flying out tomorrow. Ive got all I needed for my article, and you all have helped me greatly.”
“Bye, John!” Bill yells.
“Goodbye.” He bobs up and down, searching for footing. An old mans shuffle. “Goodbye.”
‘Ive got news as well!” Easter says. “Ive spoken with the Colonel. Tomorrow, were flying out. Second and third are going to stay out here. First platoon’s headed back to the boat!”
There is an actual cheer at this news. Marines bang on their rifles, on their helmets. In my heart, I feel the weight of it hit me like a ton of bricks. Back to the boat. Back to the boat, that takes us home. In the afternoon we start a fire in a metal drum. I empty out my ranger pack of all the extra offal I have collected. I burn my care package. I burn my X-Men comic book. All the extra weight.
Why are you doing this?
To make my pack lighter.
I don’t think that’s why. I think youre trying to forget.
Forget? Forget what?
You want the fire to take it away.
Take
Your memories.
What
The boy. The women. The goat. The prisoners.
It was important to be here.
How do I explain it to you?
The real reason
You will lie to everyone.
You are not a killer.
You are only playing Marine.
Let me forget.
You were proud then.
I am proud now.
This place is inconsequential.
A world of dust
And rock
That stinks like shit.
The fire roars. Look back on it. It consumes your memories. The plane howls. Hop on board it, another sardine. Listen! Listen to the speakers. That’s Rage against the Machine. That’s bulls on parade
NEVER DO WHAT THEY TELL YOU
GOT YOU UNDER CONTROL
You live in media. You are surrounded by it. Media made you. What you are. Defined by consumption. Marine is a brand. Colt is a brand. M16 is an icon. All of this is only information.
FOURTEEN
We land on the ship. My legs wobble as I get off. We walk down the ramp, through the hanger bay, and into the chow hall. Theyre serving lunch. Cheeseburgers. It smells good, too good. Real food. I pass the vending machines. Turn another corner. And its back to the berthing area.
On ship, we all live in a berthing area. The space is cramped, rows of small beds stacked three high. First Platoon has one row. Then second and third platoon. We have a lot more space then some others, in Kilo or Lima company they have much smaller ships to ride in. An aircraft carrier is quiet, an aircraft carrier is big, and an aircraft carrier does not rock with the waves or storms that much at all. I drink it all in, as I strip off my pack and flak and helmet. The floor is speckled blue. The walls are white, the blanket on my bed is grey. Tubing runs up the walls, over our heads, all around us. I strip it all off. I strip off all my clothes, and wrap a towel around my waist. I head for the showers.
There is a line on front of me for the showers. A line of equally filthy Marines, bathed in dust and dirt. I catch a glimpse at my reflection. I am thin, thinner than I ever remember being. I can clearly see the outline of my ribcage. The shower stall is a cube of aluminum. I press the nozzle and warm water flows over me. Across my head, and my chest. Down my stomach, and crotch. Down my ankles, to my feet. Warmth envelopes me. I shiver with joy. Little lights sparkle behind my eyes. This is the best shower I have ever had. I strip off the cardboard on a brand new bar of soap, and start to scrub.
Half an hour later, the filth is off my bones and I am in line for a computer. The line is long, at least ten Marines in front of me. I am in the ships library, surrounded by books. Behind three or four rows of books is two banks of flat screen computers. The line moves slowly. I turn and look, and there stand Angela Garrison.
“Merrell!” She smiles. “You’re back!”
Angela has green eyes, and brown hair. With light pink, pale skin. A little trail of freckles across the bridge of her nose. A trail of sun damage. She wears a lipstick the color of flesh. The name of it, she told me once, is nude, her lips are nude, and when her body is nude Her nipples are the same pale, pink color. I drink her in now, drink in the Navy Working Uniform, the digital camouflage that hugs to the curves of her body. She hugs me, then, pressing herself close against my body. Her grip is fierce and inviting. “I’m so glad your back. I heard the news, and I got scared.”
“I’m fine.” I say. “Wade isn’t, though. He’s dead.”
“That’s your sergeant, right? The tall guy?” I nod. “Oh my god. I am so sorry.”
“Its okay. Its all over now. I’m back on ship.”
“Am I going to see you in Malta?”
“When is that?”
“Once we pick up the rest of you guys from over there. Were going to port in Valletta. Its going to be the first real liberty for any of us.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Oh yeah. Its going to be a party. And Rachel knows a guy that knows a guy that can get us some stuff. If youre coming.”
“I am. I mean, I’ll be there.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to you more at chow. Your up next.”
I move to the computer terminal and sign in. She waves goodbye and mouths the words as she does it, bye-ee. I turn back to the console and sign into my email.
[email protected]
41 unread messages
Turqiouse- are you back yet?
Turqiouse- OMG Merrell, where are you I saw on the news
Turqiouse- Selah pooped on the cat today
Turqiouse- Guess what THIS is?
Turqiouse- You love turq turq?
Turqiouse- I miss my mer bear
Dad-Hey boy! Just checking on ya. We saw in the news.
Bank of America- Your account is overdue and needs to be paid
Turqiouse- cant sleep I miss you
Turqiouse-my farts stink
Turqiouse-I cried after your phone call
I go down each and every one. I respond to Turqious and Dad and even Bank of America. My heart is heavy and feels like it is grasping something, something way off in the future. Why did I have to do it?
Why did I have to sign up for this, to be away from her? I type a message. I try to tell her everything
Baby
Were back on ship. Im sorry I didn’t get to call. Im sorry you had to worry Im fine Bill is fine Sergeant Rielly died. Were all done and heading back. Its all over. I miss Selah and I saw your pictures. She is getting really big and I see that she has teeth now. I’m going to call tonight so keep your phone on. I took my first shower today in over three months. It was the best thing yet, But I know the best thing ever will be when I see you. I miss you I love you I’ll be back soon.
Mer Mer
There is emotion overwhelming me. My eyes are tearing up as I leave the computer. I wipe them and I stagger outside, out to the smoke deck. The sea air feels cool as I light a smoke, a Marlboro light fresh from the ships store. I lean across the edge of the rail.
There are three colors to the ocean. There is a lighter grey color, on the surface, and then there is another, deeper blue color, that is only visible when the water is especially calm. Above that choppy foam glistens. I stare out at the grey, between the white, and into the deep blue.
Marine at War Page 9