The Fear That Haunts Me

CHAPTER 4

Moondust

The children and the Staff Sergeant wore gray sweatshirts that said THEO UNIVERSITY across the front. As I saw that photo, I wondered if I would be so blessed to have the love and warmth of a family like his.

"My babies," he said as he took the photo from his Kevlar and handed it to me. He was married with six children, four girls and two boys. He seemed like he was a great father and husband. His kids were their father's children, for sure. He could never disown them. All wore his fair hair and looked just like him.

"That's awesome, Staff Sergeant. If only I could be so lucky," I said as he put his Kevlar back on his head and buckled the chinstrap.

"Yeah, well," he said as he frowned. "Things aren't always what they seem, Kelly. But that being said, I hope you will."

I wasn't sure what to make of his answer. It was odd, especially in the circumstance we were in. I wasn't about to dwell on it. Theo tapped me on the shoulder as Viking rolled up in the Humvee, beatboxing.

"Let's get mounted," he said. "We're stepping off in fifteen."

We mounted the Humvee escort. Theo, Chief, Viking, and I were in one vehicle, while Banger and Red—our SAW gunner, were in another.

Lance Corporal Paul 'Red' Foti was as Italian as they come. Thick jet-black hair, a thick New York accent, and deep brown eyes. His laugh was hearty and contagious. He was hardcore and a Marine's Marine.

The small armored column sped along the main supply route. Three kilometers from our area of operation, they diverted off the road.

"Blackhawk wants you to go the rest of the way on foot," said the driver to Theo, who sat in the passenger seat.

As the column halted and we dismounted, Banger met us at the back of our Humvee. He opened his metal clipboard and took out the map of our route. Then, clipping it to the top tray, he passed it to Theo.

"Continue your patrol on foot," he said. Theo took the clipboard and turned it towards him. Banger pointed out the route and suspected areas where we could meet resistance. "Report in at intervals and if you have contact with any enemy elements, suspected or otherwise. Understood?" said Banger.

"Roger that, sir," replied Theo. "Will we have air if necessary?"

"Right now, Marine Air is covering Taskforce Sledgehammer," said Banger. "I'm sure they'll break in support if you need it."

I looked at Theo, who flexed his jaw. He narrowed his eyes and hardened his gaze. He didn't hide his anger from Banger.

"Not to question our patrol, sir," said Theo, "but we've already been in contact and—"

"You have your orders, Staff Sergeant," snapped Banger. "Just do your job and keep your Marines safe." The Lieutenant took back the clipboard, closed it, and left.

"Aye-aye, Lieutenant," said Theo. He pointed his rifle upward past his shoulder. "You heard the man... let's go."

We formed a single column and began our movement toward our patrol area. Banger would stay behind with the rest of the platoon but had Doc come with us. He was our Navy corpsman, one of the best.

Hospital Corpsman 3rd Class (HM3) James 'Doc' Duncan was our lifeline. His job was to keep us combat-effective.

We kept intervals and followed in Theo's footsteps. We walked for almost an hour before we came to a large field of flowers beginning to bloom. They didn't smell. That is what you'd expect blooming flowers to do. Instead, they stood waist-high—a pleasant sea of purple and white. Long stems surrounded the flowers that had bloomed with green buds that had not yet opened. It was quite beautiful, actually.

A harsh reality soon shattered my ignorance in its bliss.

"Opium," said Theo. We continued in the column. "The flowers Schmuckatelli. Isn't your old man a cop? Well, this is what gives him job security." His voice was taut and rough. "God forbid we screw with their livelihood. Just let 'em keep killing our children."

There was a grove of trees about seventy meters ahead of us. It was rather long, like a windbreak, but not deep. The poppies lead the way to a small trail that cuts the grove in half.

It was thick but passable. Theo held up his hand, bladed fingers together. The five of us halted on his command. We all dropped to a knee, rifles now in the tactical position, cheek level scanning for targets.

Circling his hand over his head, we swiftly and quietly rallied on his position. He was seeing something we didn't.

My heart pounded, and I continually reminded myself of situational awareness.

Observe everything, admire nothing.

He looked through his rifle combat optic, guiding us into his sight. "Fifty meters my two o'clock, there's a dead tree, fallen branches, contact?" he whispered.

We all called our contact one at a time, seeing foot mobiles, but nothing more. It was difficult to see their numbers, but Theo was sure something was wrong.

"There's a small village about a hundred meters east. Call your contact," he said.

"Contact," I said.

"Spread out, stay low, and stay frosty."

Theo crouched the rifle at eye level, drifting down the trail. He would stop, kneel, and then move again. Finally, after the third time, he froze. Fingers pointing at his eyes, he then bladed his hand thumb up. He was directing our attention to the opening.

"Shit," I said quietly, "I don't have a visual. Foliage is obstructing my view."

This is going to get ugly.

It reminded me of my mother's favorite story, Peter Pan. She read it to me often and even made me write a book report on it in fourth, sixth, and ninth grade. However, one part always stood out and was now at the forefront of my mind.

The first to pass is Tootles, not the least brave but the most unfortunate of all that gallant band. He had been in fewer adventures than any of them because the big things constantly happened just when he had stepped round the corner; all would be quiet...

From the warning in my heart, my days of quiet had ended.