“Don’t say anything. Let me finish telling you my story. It’s important that you know so you’ll have some understanding of my frame of mind.” Erin nodded once.
“We were a brigade of over 2300 men, broken down into 230 squad units. Timothy and I were in the same squad; ironically put together as partners. I’d met his grandmother via Skype on quick short calls. I’d also met his wife, she…” he paused. Erin’s heartbeat raced as she inwardly mourned for Timothy’s wife. “She’d just had his twins. Baby girls.” Caleb’s gaze traveled back to the ceiling and glazed over with fresh tears. Erin laid her head between the nook of his arm and chest to listen as he told his story. “The eight others in our squad were, Frank Reynolds, James Milton, Tony Fisher, Roy McCoy, Nicolas Benjamin, Cody Drayton, Luke Scutter, and Simon West. Not including Staff Sergeant Hopkins. We were stationed in Iraq. For three years we went on covert missions.” Caleb became quiet and Erin held her breath.
“Sometimes the missions would go smoothly. I never released a sigh of relief until our squad made it back to base in one piece. We would always party afterward. And by party, I mean stay up past bedtime and sneak and eat extra MRE’s.”
“What is that?”
“Meals ready to eat.”
“Sounds like a microwavable dinner.”
Caleb’s hand inadvertently caressed Erin’s shoulder, rubbing it up and down. “Something like that,” he said.
“There were other times when a mission didn’t go as planned. When the first sign of the enemy was revealed, I’d always have the thought that this might be the day I die.”
Erin stiffened next to him and her fingers clutched his shirt. Caleb glanced down at her.
“Chill on the Freddy Kruger grip,” he teased.
Erin landed a tap on his chest. “That’s not funny.”
He straightened the smirk from his face and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, you’re right. Nothing about what I’m about to tell you is funny.”
“On the days we were met with resistance, bullets flew over my head and past my ass; almost like the sound of a buzzing bee. Fortunately, when any of our squad was injured, it was minor- leg, or arm injuries.” Caleb became quiet again as if searching for the words to explain this fatal day. “One afternoon, we were sent out. It was a classified mission, so I can’t give you specifics.”
Erin nodded in understanding. “It’s okay,” she said.
“Our convoy was a single march unit that consisted of three trucks and one tail. The tail was our med unit in the case any injuries were sustained. We were on our way to a FOB,” Caleb paused and explained. “A forward operating base. It’s a secured military operations center.” Erin nodded. “Anyway, we were going to get bridge parts for an upcoming mission. Because there were eight of us and three trucks, we were separated in threes except for the one vehicle. Frank Reynolds was the driver and we needed at least another man riding shotgun.”
“Wait, I thought there were ten of you including you and Timothy?”
“There were, but the others were a part of the med unit that was tailing us.”
“Oh.”
“No one liked to ride with Frank because he was always passing gas.”
Erin turned her nose up. “Are you kidding me?”
Caleb smiled lightly. “I wish I were, but not even Frank’s partner wanted to ride with him.”
Erin laughed softly. “That’s just disgusting.”
“Frank thought it was the funniest thing ever, and so did other’s when they weren’t directly in his path or caught in a hot box with him, like the convoy vehicle.”
“I guess not,” Erin said dryly.
Caleb’s expression turned serious again, and as he talked this time, his focus remained on the ceiling.
“It was my turn to ride with Frank, but much like others, I was hell-bent on getting out of it. I told Tim if he’d take my spot I’d give him my MRE.”
Tim laughed so hard he fell over. Once his laughter subsided he made a deal with me. I’d have to ride with Frank on the way to the FOB and Tim would ride back. ‘There’s no way I’m taking on a roundtrip with Frank,’ Timothy said. And of course, I still had to give him my MRE.”
“Frank must’ve had some bad gas,” Erin pointed out.
“Nuclear,” Caleb added.
“The ride over to the FOB was smooth, except for the mountain of farts Frank wielded on me.”
“Ewww,” Erin moaned.
“But on our way back…”
Caleb’s gaze clouded over again as he was transported back to the moment in time.
October 2015
Baghdad, Iraq
36th Squad Unit
0900 Hours
Tan combat boots hit the ground and dust particles flew into the air. “Damn you smell like a piece of shit, Reynolds!” Caleb said slamming the door to the armored truck.
Frank Reynolds jumped out of the driver’s side, with his AR-15 strapped to his ACU jacket.
“Oh, don’t be such a pussy, Malone,” Frank guffawed as he rounded the vehicle.
“Fuck you, Reynolds.”
Frank howled, doubling over in laughter. The 36th squad unit convoy moved through the barbed fencing past the control point. They gathered around each other, then parked and moved into the FOB to get the pieces they were sent for. The mission didn’t take longer than thirty minutes. The commander was set up and ready for the squad to carry out its needed material. It was when Timothy attempted to slide back into the truck with Tony Fisher and Roy McCoy did Caleb call him out on it.
“I don’t think so Moore, we had a deal.”
Timothy paused his sneak attempt, taking his hand off the armored door.
“Shit,” Timothy cursed.
Caleb strolled up to his partner. “I wouldn’t worry too much,” Caleb said, “he may have gotten all of that shit out on the way over.”
The other guys in the squad laughed but Timothy grimaced.
“Come on fellas, don’t be like that. Let me get this straight, you’re over here risking your lives every second of the day and you can’t stand to smell a little gas?”
Every single one of them began to groan and fuss.
“The shit that comes out of you is not a little gas. You could bottle that shit up and sell it as a secret weapon that would wipe out villages,” Nicolas Benjamin said.
“This is fun guy’s, but we have to get back to it. Stay on schedule,” Staff Sergeant Hopkin’s said.
Caleb slapped Timothy on his back. “Thank you, partner,” he said, jumping into the back of the Truck with Tony and Roy.
“Damn it,” Timothy said again. He strolled to the vehicle and got inside unhurriedly as the rest of the guys continued to laugh.
The gates to the FOB opened and the convoy moved down the dirt roads with Frank and Timothy leading. The hot dry weather was invasive, and as they rode, the men all watched their surroundings while draining water from canteen bottles. A magnanimous sound vibrated from Frank and Timothy was immediately hit with the odor.
“Aw, son of a bitch!” Timothy cursed.
Frank laughed and shook his head. “You didn’t really think I wouldn’t save a little for you, did ya?”
“You’re really an SOB you know that Reynolds!”
Frank shrugged. “I love you too, asshole,” he said continuing to laugh.
Timothy took a chance and rolled down the window. Thick waves of heated air seeped in and he took in a much-needed breath of air.
“Roll that window up, soldier,” Frank’s stern voice commanded. “What are you trying to do? Make us easy targets?”
“You are the one making us easy targets. I’d much rather take my chances taking in some fresh air then suffer through the sewage in your ass.”
Frank couldn’t help but laugh. It really gave him a good chuckle to mess with his comrades that way. Taking his eyes away from Timothy, Frank glanced at the road before them.
“Heads up,” he said, “we’re riding back through th
is neighborhood.”
In the truck behind them, Roy, Tony, and Caleb all guffawed. They watched as Timothy let down the window and they knew instantly that Frank was at it again.
“I feel bad for that poor bastard,” Roy said.
“I don’t,” Tony replied. “It’s his own greedy ass fault. Who volunteers to ride with Frank? I wouldn’t care if the prize was a gold bar itself.” Tony shook his head, “No way in hell.”
“Bullshit,” Roy retorted. “If someone offered me a gold bar, I’d be a gas smelling SOB.”
The men laughed just as they entered the same neighborhood they’d traveled through on the way to the FOB. Caleb checked the time. “Forty-five minutes,” he said, giving the time in which they’d make it back to base.
They rode over a sand dune then down the dusty streets of the area. A child ran out in the street, no older than about seven years of age.
“Whoa,” Roy said.
The convoy paused, and the soldiers watched the area. In Iraq, what appeared to be an innocent situation could be a setup. Children of all ages were sometimes equipped with bombs or guns. Caleb kept a close eye on the kid in front of Frank and Timothy’s truck. The little boy pointed at the convoy then spoke in Arabic. He reached inside of the linen pocket of his shirt. The soldiers reacted, opening their doors taking aim at the child.
In his hand was a piece of paper, about the size of the palm of his hand.
“Get off the road!” Frank shouted.
The little boy looked around from each of their faces then took a few steps back but holding his position on the side of the dirt passage. The soldiers reclaimed their positions and the convoy continued its journey back to base. As they rode, the truck was silent. All three of them, Roy, Tony, and Caleb sat in deep thought. Something didn’t feel right, and Caleb’s gut churned as he kept his eyes on everything. The soldiers in the first cab snagged Caleb’s attention when Timothy shoved Frank into the door. Timothy turned and rolled down his window just as Caleb caught the shape of a black object seconds from the truck’s wheels.
At supersonic speed, Caleb reached for the radio.
“Possible IED, Frank watch your rig—”
An explosion was detonated on Timothy’s side of the truck. It shot his side of the cab in the air, flipping the vehicle on the driver’s side in a detrimental crush.
“Nooo!” Caleb screamed. He jumped out of their cab with the rest of squad 36 behind him. “Noo!” Caleb screamed again.
“Malone!” Staff Sergeant Hopkins called. “Get into position!”
The soldiers moved in formation, checking their rear, sides, and front. Staff Sergeant Hopkins grabbed Caleb. He was screaming at him about something, but Caleb’s hearing had gone out. The only thing he could comprehend was the explosion and the fire inside Frank’s cab. The soldiers in the med unit ran past Caleb and he wrestled to get away from the Staff Sergeant. But Staff Sergeant Hopkin’s held on with a fierce grip. There was nothing any of them could do. Frank and Timothy were no longer with them.
9
Tears streamed down Caleb’s face as he retold the story. Still in the position on the floor, Erin also cried, just as devastated as he.
“I couldn’t save him.” Caleb’s voice was shaken. “And every night I see him.”
This made Erin rise up. She glanced in his eyes, bewildered by his confession.
“Every night?”
Caleb’s gaze left the ceiling and drifted to her face. He reached for her cheek and caressed her skin there.
“Except when you visit me.”
Blinking rapidly, Erin wrapped her mind around what Caleb was saying.
“Are you saying dreaming about me is the only time you don’t think of Timothy?”
“Dreaming of you, is the only time I don’t dream about Timothy’s death,” he said making sure his comment wasn’t understated.
A gasp flew from Erin’s lips and more tears sailed down her face. Caleb wiped them away but to no avail. They continued down her freckled cheeks and moisturized his fingers.
“Why are you crying?” Caleb’s voice was now soft and profound as if the sorrow for himself left as soon as Erin was in despair.
She half gawked and stuttered out a response. “Are you se— do you really need to ask me that?”
“If those tears are for me, save them. I don’t deserve them. It should’ve been me in that cab. I broke protocol. We should’ve never switched positions.”
“That’s your solution?” Erin asked incredulously. More tears ran down her face. “You’d rather be dead then— ugh!”
Erin removed herself from the floor jumping to her feet.
“Where are you going,” Caleb asked rising to a sitting position.
“Just… give me a second.”
Erin left the dining room and ran to her bedroom. Inside she leaned against her wall and shut her eyes. Her mind tossed as Caleb’s revelation hit her hard. Caleb blamed himself for Timothy’s death, and he thought the recurrence of his nightmares were apart of some justified torment because of his guilt. But Erin knew better. During her research into the lives of soldiers, she came across articles on PTSD and this was a pure case of it, plain and simple. She gathered her senses then pushed off the wall to go back to him. Erin didn’t have to go far. Caleb stood in her doorway, seconds from entering, as she went to make an exit.
They bumped into each other and her hands slipped up his chest as his hefty palms clutched her arms to hold her steady.
“Careful,” his thick voice grooved.
Erin shivered under his intense stare. “I didn’t see you,” she said.
“It’s alright. You weren’t expecting me, and I didn’t mean to intrude. You left in such a hurry, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Erin let out a long breath. “You wanted to make sure I was okay,” she repeated astonished.
“Yeah.”
“Caleb, it is not your fault Timothy died.”
Caleb’s stare had gone from warm to melancholy.
“I know that’s hard for you to believe; and for people with PTSD, that’s a given.”
This time Caleb frowned. “You think I have post-traumatic stress disorder?”
“You don’t?”
“No.”
Erin was bewildered. “Baby…” she paused after catching the word slip from her tongue, but it was too late. Caleb heard it, too, and his hands moved from her arms to wrap around her shoulders.
Slowly, he pulled her closer until their breastbones pushed against one another. The warmness in his eyes returned and his voice thickened.
“Finish what you were going to say, sweetheart.”
Erin swallowed thickly, and an involuntary shudder crept down her spine. Instead of attempting to remove what she’d said, Erin pushed forward with her commentary.
“I’ve done research on this. There’s a program called Wounded Warrior Project. The program specializes in helping soldiers with PTSD. Um,” Erin snapped her fingers trying to remember exactly what she’d read. “Project Odyssey!” She practically yelled. “It’s an adventurous outdoor type of project that will help improve your mental and emotional health.”
“I don’t think an outdoor activity is going to help me in this situation.”
“How do you know? First give it a chance.”
Caleb removed his arms from around her and took a step back.
“Listen Erin, I appreciate you trying to help me, I really do, but if you’d witnessed what I did, I think you’d change your mind about your research.”
Erin frowned. “How can you dismiss it without even considering it?”
Caleb shoved his hands into his pockets. “I know what I know.”
They stared at each other for a long minute.
“So that’s it? You have no solution, you’re just going to keep going through this every night?” Erin folded her arms and leaned into a hip.
Caleb knew the feistiness in her was seconds away from emerging, but he still thoug
ht this Wounded Warrior Project was silly. In his mind, there was no way he could get over what Caleb had deemed his fault by doing some outdoor activities.
“I have my own way of dealing with this.”
Erin lifted a brow. “Which is?”
This was the part of the conversation Caleb hadn’t wanted to get into, but standing by his word to talk to her about his thoughts or decisions, he got on with it.
“I’m going back this fall,” he said.
Erin’s forehead creased and her eyes lurched. “What?”
Caleb pulled a hand out of his pocket and it sailed over his face as he let out a breath. “I’m only here for the summer, then I’ll be sent back to Iraq.”
Erin stopped breathing. Her mind tumbled as she thought about what Caleb said. Heat stung her cheeks from a boiling madness she felt. Her pulse exhilarated. She was stunned to say the least. Erin swallowed.
“Wait,” she lifted a hand in the air. “You’re saying your solution for getting past Timothy’s death is to go back to the place it happened and do what for God’s sake?! How is that going to help you?”
“I’m not looking for it to help me get over it. But the fact that I’m still alive and he isn’t, because of a decision I made, means I should continue to serve. It’s not fair for me to come home and live a decent life when he has none. I won’t. I can’t.”
Caleb wanted Erin to understand him, but he knew it would be hard. He didn’t blame Erin if she couldn’t.
Erin’s mouth fell open. The madness had her trembling now; not hard but a light tremble that resonated enough that Caleb noticed it.
“What you’re really saying is that because you think it’s your fault, you deserve to serve in the military until you die.” Her voice broke at the end of her sentence.
“Baby…” Caleb reached out for her, but she swatted his hand away.
“No!” She screeched.
Erin didn’t know how to react. There was a part of her that wanted to console him and tell him how much his way of thinking was wrong. She wanted him to understand it wasn’t his fault. There were real solutions right here in the United States of America. Erin wanted to let him know that no matter what he did, serving until he died wouldn’t bring Timothy back. She wanted to be strong for him and help him thoroughly. But Erin’s anger was elevated, and she couldn’t stop what she said next.
Wait For Me (A Military Romance Book 1) Page 6
