by K. L Randis
“Dead,” LCpl. Nelson said, wringing out his hands. “Turns out it was pretty nasty stuff. They had some monetary benefits set aside for veterans exposed to it but it wasn’t enough. He had a few different forms of cancer. Leukemia and I aren’t friends.”
“I don’t think anyone is friends with cancer,” I said. “Sorry to hear about your grandpop.”
“Thanks,” LCpl. Nelson said. “At least all we have to worry about now is what color smoke grenades we need to set off, right?”
“Red for distress and immediate assistance needed and blue for…” Cpl. Freddy said, trailing off. His stare was blank. I could see LCpl. Nelson look back and forth between our faces, opening his mouth to help guide Cpl. Freddy to the correct answer.
I held up my hand. “We know what it means, Nelson. Shut your trap.”
LCpl. Nelson closed his mouth, following my gaze to Cpl. Freddy’s face, realizing what was happening. “Oh. OH! Sorry, I know you guys know… I just…”
I shooed him away with a hand. “Go check the wall for nudes. Come back when you have an update.”
“Right. Okay, I will.”
Cpl. Freddy and I sat in silence, him staring somewhere off in the distance and me staring down at my boots. They were three missions away from needing to be replaced, but they had carried me through afflictions I would never fail to remember. They’d remain on my feet as long as I could, a remembrance of sorts, to keep the people we lost along the way close and in the forefront of my mind. I usually retired them after successful missions with no casualties, only wanting to change them out when things were on the upswing.
“How long was I gone?” Cpl. Freddy asked a few moments later.
“Just a few minutes. I sent the kid away to check the wall,” I said, deciding that after that night’s mission I’d put in the order for new boots before we packed up camp and moved on to the next area. I looked up at his face, the familiar warmth of his brown eyes reflecting that the moment had passed.
“You up for tonight if I vouch for you?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Cpl. Freddy said. “I’m always ready. I just got lost for a minute, you know how it is.”
I nodded. “Who do you think was added to the wall today?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Ask the kid,” Cpl. Freddy said, smirking as LCpl. Nelson plowed through a group of guys to deliver his update. He screeched to a stop. “You’ll never believe who’s on the wall this time.”
The wall was a sacred mausoleum of love that was lost. It was shameful to leave a Marine when he was deployed, but wives or girlfriends who cheated on their Marine would get special attention on the wall to properly parade the level of dishonor to everyone in the platoon. Their ‘Dear John’ letters from back home, whether it was them confessing to their infidelity or from another source who was filling the Marine in on what was happening back home, was displayed on the wall. Typically a picture, often their nude ones, would accompany the letter. It was so other Marines would know how to identify and properly avoid them should their paths ever cross with the deplorable ex while in a civilian setting.
It was a cathartic way of dealing with the worst kind of heartache millions of miles away, while simultaneously enlisting the camaraderie of everyone to bear the burden of hurt together—the only people in the world who could possibly understand.
“Sergeant Lopez,” LCpl. Nelson gushed, before letting anyone guess.
“Wow,” Cpl. Freddy said, shaking his head.
“Yeah, what a shame,” I chimed in, already knowing that he was expecting that letter for some time. He had confided in me weeks earlier, so I tried to share in their surprise.
“Master Sergeant Cooper,” LCpl. Nelson said, stiffening at attention as he looked over my shoulder.
I stood, pivoting to turn around at the same time. “Master Sergeant.”
MSgt. Cooper nodded, putting LCpl. Nelson at ease, while looking at me. “It’s almost time.”
I nodded. “If it’s no bother to you, permission to bring Corporal Freddy with me.”
MSgt. Cooper looked around, a dazed look on his face.
“I mean Corporal Sullivan,” I said, remembering Freddy’s real last name.
“You don’t know this Corporal’s name yet you want him to tag along on a special op?”
I replied with sublime seriousness. “He has no special skills that I deem necessary for this op, Master Sergeant, however I feel it irresponsible to leave him behind with the rest of the platoon since they’d be subjected to staring at his face.”
The cough that MSgt. Cooper let out indicated he was attempting to cover up a smirk and my right cheek twitched with self-evident laughter.
“If you feel his presence would result in a successful mission, Sergeant,” he said, nodding his approval.
“I do,” I said. “I’d also like to have Lance Corporal Nelson accompany us. He’s a little wet behind the ears but the best damn shot I’ve seen in a while. I’d trust him to shoot the wings off a fly if I ordered him to.”
He eyed LCpl. Nelson. “Can you get them caught up, Sergeant?”
“I can.”
“He doesn’t plan on returning from the op with a DUI like he did while on leave, does he?” MSgt. Cooper replied.
LCpl. Nelson lowered his chin, embarrassed about his recent demotion.
“Master Sergeant Cooper, permission to accompany Sergeant Walker tonight,” said a voice from behind us.
We all turned, surprised anyone had been listening, to see Sergeant Lopez standing at ease.
“What the hell for, Sergeant?” MSgt. Cooper asked.
“I’ve been in the Sandbox long enough to know the best route to take in and out. Lance Corporal Nelson gets lost looking for an MRE most days.”
MSgt. Cooper didn’t mean to roll his eyes so he shielded his face, dragging the skin on his forehead all the way down to his chin. “Sergeant Walker has the final say, I trust his judgment more than any of you morons. You leave at 0200 hours. Remember, Sergeant Walker, not a word about this except to your team. I even got one of the operators from the SEAL team to get a squad of four for oversight.”
“I think he legit laughed,” Cpl. Freddy said to me, watching MSgt. Cooper disappear in the opposite direction.
“Looking for a distraction or something?” I said to Sgt. Lopez.
“Something like that. I made a small contribution to the wall this morning.”
“I heard. Is your head in the game? We get one chance at this, otherwise we have to herd the city tomorrow.”
“Herd the city?” LCpl. Nelson asked.
“It’s when we set up a parameter and leave only one way out, pushing everyone through a small channel and picking people off who look even remotely similar to our guy. If they appear to be a high level threat, children included since they’re usually the ones carrying hand grenades to distract us, they’re killed too.”
“Oh,” said LCpl. Nelson, kicking dirt.
“So, it’s a little important that we take care of this tonight” I said. “Lopez, why do you want in?”
“I’ve heard what this guy does. I want to save every woman and child in this city from him. He uses the women to give him children and uses little boys for fun. It’s time he comes face to face with some real men.”
“Good enough for me,” I said. “Okay then, listen up ‘cause we have a briefing in twenty with Master Sergeant and you need to have this down…”
***
The blast from the RPG hit in the opposite direction of where we had entered the building, but it still knocked the wind out of me. Debris littered my chest, compressing my rib cage, and I fought against the ringing in my ears to hold onto consciousness.
The throbbing at the base of my neck told me my head had ricocheted off something.
“Freddy!” I screamed out as the dust began to settle. Listening for sounds of life, I craned my neck and began to push the rubble from my body.
Silence was never welcome in war.
It meant casualties.
Death.
An end to a means.
Sgt. Lopez had been the first through the door. I already knew it meant he didn’t survive. The barren floor where he had been standing seconds earlier confirmed that for me. A few scraps of his military uniform, scattered around and doused in crimson, was all that was left.
“Nelson!” I called out, unsure if his keen sense of hearing bestowed him enough time to find cover before we were hit. Pushing myself up onto my elbows I looked around. “Answer me, Nelson!”
The sound of coughing to my right forced me to follow the labored noise through the haze settling around me. Unsure if I should risk calling out again, I whistled.
A familiar whistle returned in response, barely audible but there, and in a pitch I knew all too well.
Freddy was alive.
I knew my legs wouldn’t carry me, but I didn’t have time to assess my own injuries. Flipping to my stomach I dug my elbows into the ground, pulling my weight across the floor in the direction of the high-pitched melody.
“There’s a boulder on my chest,” Cpl. Freddy whispered, gasping for air.
I nodded, noting that there was nothing on his chest at all. “Okay buddy, okay, let’s see what we can do here.” Pain shot up through my legs as I hoisted myself into a high push up, positioning myself to look up and down the length of his body.
A gaping hole where his stomach used to be told me he had seconds left to live. His legs were no longer attached, and the color of his skin matched a fresh winter’s snow. I put my hand to my flak, grabbing a smoke grenade. Pulling the pin with my teeth I searched for an area where the smoke would, hopefully, be visible to the SEALs standing by and alert them that there were survivors.
Blue clouds rose from the canister, engulfing the remainder of the hut and escaping through the gaping skylight they had blown into the ceiling moments earlier. A shrill whistle alerted me that the SEALs were close and saw the signal billowing around us.
“It’s not so bad, right?” Cpl. Freddy said, eyeing me hopefully.
“Not so bad, ugly,” I said, leaning on one elbow and placing my other hand over his chest to feel his breaths and comfort him.
“You’re lying. You’re my best friend damn it, but you’re lying.”
“I’m not your best friend, I don’t even know why you like me to be honest.” I swallowed, scanning the damage around us and knowing he didn’t have much time left.
Freddy gasped.
“Don’t do that. You’re not allowed to say goodbye, we’ll get you out of here.”
“You’re right,” he said, shaking his head. “I probably have time to insult you a while longer. You’re the biggest jerk I ever knew, you know it?” A tear slid down his right cheek. “I wish I never met you, and you’re not as handsome as you think you are.”
I smiled. “Your face looks like the spawn of one avocado fucking an even older avocado.”
“You know, you always made fun of my acne, but I think it’s because you were intimidated by my other features, the ones the ladies prefer,” he said, winking through the trembling.
“You’re right, man. You’d have made quite the catch. Anyone would’ve be lucky to have you,” I replied.
A thin, straight line appeared between lips where a smile had briefly peeked through. “How’d they know we were coming, Jackson?” Shuddering with fear and adrenaline, his eyes started to drift, but then shot open when he undoubtedly felt the floating sensation that meant he was losing consciousness.
“I don’t know, Nathan.”
“You used my real name.”
“I did.”
“It must be pretty bad then.”
“It is.”
“Jackson?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re my best friend…?”
I nodded, letting the tears pool off of my chin. “I’m your best friend, bud.”
There was a chance he didn’t hear me. He closed his eyes for the last time, taking several shortened and quick-paced breaths before resting soundly in my arms. The canister of blue smoke hissed off in the distance, telling me it was almost empty.
I clenched his shirt, pushing my face into his chest as the SEALs raided the rubble and took hold of me.
“We need to take him,” I said, panicked at their rush to drag me out of the hut.
“There’s no time, Sergeant,” replied one SEAL. “A quarter mile parameter was evacuated, apparently hours ago according to one informant. This whole damn block is a ticking time bomb.”
“No man left behind, dammit! He needs to come with us!” I said, struggling to make my way toward Freddy as they pulled at my arms.
“There’s no time, we’ll come back for the dog tags. Let’s GO! Now!”
I couldn’t use my legs. They dragged below me, bumping over debris, rocks, and body parts. As we crossed the threshold of what had been the front door, I saw Lance Corporal Nelson curled up in a ball, half of his back blown out by the force of the explosion. He likely died on impact.
“You’re the only one, Sergeant,” the SEAL said, staring down at my panicked face. “No one else survived. You wouldn’t have either if you didn’t take cover behind that block wall inside.”
“The target?” I asked, changing subjects as I felt vomit rise up in my throat.
“Eliminated in the blast.”
Shock set in as we snaked our way through town and it forced my body to convulse with tremors. I fell in and out of consciousness the entire time I was being dragged. Gunfire echoed in the patchwork memories I absorbed on the trip back to base.
When I opened my eyes finally, the soft glow of the rising sun reached into my tent and pooled on the floor, highlighting a pair of combat boots.
“Sergeant Walker,” said MSgt. Cooper. “Can you hear me? Do you know what happened?”
I knew he wasn’t asking me to inform him that everyone who had accompanied me on the op had died. He knew that already. He needed to provide answers to his higher ups about how a ‘simple routine patrol’ had resulted in so much carnage.
“Master Sergeant Cooper,” I said, nodding from my bed. “You’ll excuse me for not standing, I seem to have lost my legs.”
“They’re still very much attached,” he said. “A piece of shrapnel sliced through your right Achilles tendon, so you’re correct in being unable to stand…for now. Your left knee is swollen to the size of a basketball, so you likely don’t feel anything below the kneecap. It’s still there though, Sergeant.”
“I don’t know what happened.”
MSgt. Cooper Cooper shook his head, lowering his voice. “I’d imagine there was a lot that happened very quickly. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to not remember. You were close with Corporal Sullivan, is that correct?”
I nodded, Freddy’s last words echoing in my mind.
“I’d imagine you have a letter of his he’d want you to send home.”
I nodded again, staring at the ceiling of the tent. “Is that all? I’d like to rest if that’s okay by you.”
“Lance Corporal Nelson, did you know off the top of your head, an address for his wife? I know she’s pregnant and I’d like to deliver a message personally.”
My face said it all, the reason for his leave a few weeks earlier suddenly becoming clear.
He sighed, half of a smile forcing the corner of his mouth upward. “You didn’t know? No, of course you didn’t. Smart kid then, he realized you wouldn’t let him tag along if you knew.”
Water welled up in the corner of my eyes. “I had no idea.”
MSgt. Cooper nodded, turning toward the opening of the tent, pausing before exiting. “You know it’s lucky the shrapnel only sliced through one of your Achilles.”
“Master Sergeant?”
“The direction of the flesh wound,” he started, drawing a horizontal line across his face in the air. “The clean line it left. I find it lucky, that when you positioned yourself behind that block wall inside the build
ing that you took a knee instead of crouching and using both feet to hover. It saved your other Achilles tendon. Maybe even your life.”
I swallowed. “Master Sergeant, about my knee. It—”
“Will be completely fine, Sergeant.” He lowered his stare. “Your perfectly healthy knee, prior to today, will be fine. We’ll take care of you. You understand?”
I nodded.
“Do you feel ill Sergeant Walker? You look paler, I can call the nurse back in.”
“It’s just a lot to absorb.”
He nodded, peering outside of the tent, the sun illuminating crevices of old age around his eyes that had intensified in just a few short months. “It always is. Oh, and Jackson?”
I raised my eyebrows at the mention of my first name, something that was seldom done between ranks, especially when those people weren’t particularly close.
“Er, yes, Master Sergeant?”
“This never happened. If you say it did, your time remaining in the Marines and here until we can get you state side will be a living hell. Do you understand? There was no special op, and this was an isolated and unexpected ambush.”
“Hostiles attacked while on patrol. Understood,” I said, nodding.
He raised his eyebrows in my direction, finally exiting the tent.
The weight of survivor’s guilt crept into my throat and chest, pushing me under and strangling me with a depth only the ocean could parallel.
Chapter Twenty-One
JACKSON
Topsail Island, North Carolina
When they medically discharged me, I chose to relocate to a beach town so I could surround myself by water and be as far away from the memories of the Sandbox as possible. Even though my injuries qualified as an honorable discharge prior to my tour being completed, I wasn’t mentally qualified to return back home.
No one is ever truly ready to return back to civilian life after war.
I had sold my parents’ house the year I graduated from boot camp, auctioning off most of their possessions while states away so I didn’t hold onto memorabilia that would weaken my attachment to the military.
