Chapter 12

Next morning, we mounted up in the five-ton truck sitting on benches looking outward. In the "old days," soldiers sat facing each other like a sewing circle until someone figured out that wasn't a good defensive position and changed the seats. Looking outward with weapons at the ready gave us a better chance to see and engage them if they fell within the rules of engagement in effect.

I sat next to Sgt. Jefferson, who had coached me yesterday. He started telling me about the situation. "We're looking for leaders and important people on the most wanted list. We also search for any weapons they have. Usually, we find lots of RPGs (rocket propelled grenades) and other ordnance that ordinary homeowners shouldn't need to exercise their second amendment rights. The EOD will take care of them and render them safe. Our translators try to convert any of them to provide Intel for the future. We can make it worth their while."

"How long you been at it, Jefferson?"

"This time? About eleven months. Before that, a year. It all blends together."

"Where do they get the weapons and ammo?"

"Some of it is left over from the Soviets, believe it or not. They looted commie ammo dumps and abandoned vehicles. Came up with quite an arsenal. Then, of course, Uncle Sam armed lots of them as well. The CIA and our leaders believed that 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend.' We've been wrong about that a few times. I wish to fuck some of those policy motherfuckers would spend some time in the ghetto before they make all those dumb alliances. Now, the villagers seem to get as much ammo as they need from the jihadists, the Taliban, and others interested in wiping out Western civilization."

"Give me the best case. Do you think the coalition is winning?"

"What day're we talking about here?"

"What would it take?"

"Wish I knew. I do know that we're not killing enough of the bastards to matter much. They seem to be able to recruit more willing converts than we can kill in the time allowed. Even the psyops (psychological operations—propaganda, etc.) can't compete with Allah. Remember that these fucking guys outlasted the Russians and then the locals were harsh with those who joined the communists."

"In my job, we read and talk a lot about asymmetric warfare. The idea that force-on-force battles may be a relic of the past. How long has it been since you've had a real engagement in which you could go full bore?"

"Not here. It's mostly tactical close air support when we need it. A little artillery here and there. Oh, by the way, I hear that your squeeze works for the Army."

"Yeah, she's a researcher on an internship. She wants to continue the job after she graduates."

Then he shouted, "Get with it soldiers. We're coming in." Everyone checked weapons and all eyes were scouring the countryside and road for any sign of resistance. We rolled into the village and started the weapons sweep. Sgt. Allen led the rest of the group to begin searching the village and seeking Intel from the residents. Jefferson stayed with me and kept a close watch from the truck on the comings and goings in the village.

He asked me, "See anything strange out there?"

I swept the entire village with my glasses and didn't see anything suspicious. I reported nothing of great interest. He said, "Keep your eye on that car over there. No reason it shouldn't be there, but if no one goes near it, we might check it out."

I watched the car near the center of the village and wondered if it was carrying a bomb. He radioed the rest of the troops to keep walls between them and the car, just to be safe and also to stay away from it. When the EOD group surveyed the pile of weapons and ammo gathered during the raids, they planned for a large explosion. The remainder of the patrol went without unusual incident.

As we traveled back to Salerno, Jefferson said, "I hate to admit it, but your guys did a nice job in developing countermeasures for radio controlled IEDs. What they learned here in a low tech world greatly improved the capability in the high tech world in Iraq."

"I read about that unit. They had Brits, Aussies, and others working together. One of my shipmates worked in the EOD unit in the Navy. Most of the time, we worried about undersea weapons. Don't find many of those around here."

"Well, today was a good day. We lost no people, had no bad PR incidents to attract interest from the zealots in the TV world, and cost the enemy more than our POL (motor fuel) cost us."

"That's a strange scorecard you keep."

He turned at looked at me sternly. "You asked what it would take? Unless coalition forces can secure the Khyber Pass and keep the supply lines open, we're in deep shit. They keep talking about other routes of supply, but the longest border is with Iran, which ain't likely to help much. If we don't solve that supply problem, our fucking POL will be rationed and the Taliban will regroup. We'll have it to do over again."

"I read about losing fuel trucks to suicide bombers up on the pass. I guess they can do that almost any place they choose."

"Those mountains provide lots of cover. We can't do much with our big weapons. So, as long as they can get their holy boys to blow themselves up, we have to be constantly on the alert. Just like they do, we'll kill some noncombatants." He shrugged and looked thoughtful. "The Germans couldn't supply themselves when they invaded Russia in War Two. Much of our supply lands in Karachi by ship and then has to be trucked here across Pakistan and through that damn pass. Hell, Bradford, you and me with the weapons we could load on a Humvee could control that pass for a while."

When I was studying Afghanistan, I remember reading many articles on the Khyber Pass and its importance throughout history. Although the railroad was completed many years ago — almost a hundred — it is not now operating. Then, the Russians changed from a narrow to a wide gauge and used part of that to send supplies their troops from Uzbekistan. In the middle of my reflections, I began to understand the complexity of this operation. Nothing is simple, nothing is easy, and Murphy is an optimist. Even I was beginning to doubt the chances of a true victory.

We returned to base in time to catch the end of the chow line. As hungry as we were, the roast chicken and all the trimmings hit the spot. Cynthia would die if she knew what I was eating on a daily basis. I knew I had to change my diet, or I would be confessing sins for the rest of my time here. After dinner, I wanted a good cup of coffee and headed for the Green Bean. Actually, what I wanted was a Scotch, but that wasn't to be.

Miller was having one of those frizzy sweet drinks they made that could not in any way be called coffee. I joined him. He asked, "How'd it go, soldier?"

I described the mission and the strange way that Jefferson kept score on the results. He enjoyed the story. Then he said, "I talked to the Chief and he gave me permission to ride with the Army. Can you take me to your leader?"

We strolled down Undertakers Blvd. to find Sgt. Allen. I introduced him to Miller and reminded him that Miller was the source of the pens. Allen snorted, "So, Miller, you want to go fight a war tomorrow?"

"I can't let Bradford have all the fun. Shit, he already got one Silver Star. I need to fire a few rounds at something other than a known target. It's been too long."

"Can't guarantee you any action, but we'll take what we get. We're still departing late, so I'll see you at 0700."

Later, we were sitting around the barracks tossing El Toro. I asked Miller, "You looking for a fight tomorrow?"

"Hell, I dunno. Sarge didn't say what he thought. Past experience tells me that we'll never know until we know, unless they're sending a group and we can pick them up with Intel."

I asked, "You think you're going to ship over when the time comes and serve another hitch?"

"From what I read, we're in it for a few years. I know that they accept volunteers for combat duty who don't have dependents, so as long as there's jihadists to fight, I'll just rack up my combat pay."

Asking again, "Why do you like combat so much?"

"It's a lot like deer hunting, except these deer are a little smarter and they shoot at you instead of sniffing and running. Maybe I wouldn't like it so much if I didn't have a seething hatred for the Taliban and their cousins. Every time I take one out, I get a warm fuzzy feeling in my gut."

"How did a nice boy from Texas develop such strong feelings against the ragheads?"

"I'll tell you if you wanna' hear, but you have to roll with the waves, though."

"Okay, divemaster, let's get on with it."

"When I was in high school, a junior, my sister was raped. You know the story. Big asshole ball players, a keg of beer, and she was showing off. This dude took her to the woods away from the campfire. She asked him to stop and he didn't."

"Aw, shit. Was she okay?"

"Screwed her up for a while. She believed the myth that she must have done something wrong. Fortunately, the judge didn't go along with the guy's story that she asked for it." He stopped talking and looked off for a minute. "Others in the court sided with the ball player, but the judge almost threw them out in contempt. The judge was a woman. No telling what might have happened if she'd been a good ol' boy."

"You're right. I've never understood rape. Never. I've been teased by a couple of little tarts, but I have to be wanted, not just tolerated."

"Man, you think rape is screwed up in the States, you know that it's much worse here. If my sister had been here, one of her fucking relatives would have to do an honor killing because she was raped and was used goods."

"Sorry that I can't be culturally sensitive to these different life styles. My first tour taught me enough about the Taliban mindset that I didn't mind at all tossing a few grenades and firing a few well-placed rounds."

"Problem is, Bradford, those stories aren't over. Every day or so, I hear of another incident that seems worse than the one before. Can you even imagine a bunch of people here in 2008 stoning a woman to death for being raped?"

"Fucking primitive. Sometimes I wonder about the people who set out to do God's work. If we didn't have so many people speaking for God on both sides of this war, they wouldn't need as many folks like us."

"Yeah, I'm aware of the problems on our side as well. You know I live in Texas, so we've got more preachers per square mile than any place in the world and Texas has lots of square miles."

"North Carolina has not been spared the bigots. On the one hand, we have a highly enlightened population around the cities. Even with that, we sent Jesse Helms to the Senate, year after year."

Miller laughed. "Know what I'd like to do? I'd like to put all the mullahs and the hellfire preachers, heavily armed, on an island and let them slug it out. I doubt we'd see much brotherly love or forgiveness on either side."

"Right. The world would be a lot better place for a few days after they did each other in. Then, of course, other zealots would rise to fill their shoes. Each side would claim they were doing God's will just like before."

"Well, my friend, it doesn't look like I'm going to run out of quail in the foreseeable future. I'd best be sure to have me a good dog and find a nice place to wait 'em out."

"I promised my Chief that I'd get one for him. He warned me not to do anything stupid just to keep the promise. Riding around with the Army makes me aware of the many possible ways to be stupid."

"Don't tell anyone, but I'm thinking about transferring to the Infantry."

"Jesus, Miller. I didn't know you were a fucking idiot."

"I love SEAL work, but we haven't had enough action lately. As more and more of those bastards come across the border, I'll have better targets. The Infantry gets closer to the action."

"Keep your head on before you make any dumb mistakes."

'Yeah. Maybe. From what I read, we can't train enough locals to contain the assholes. One report said we had only about thirty percent of the trainers and advisors on the ground that it would take to do the job. I worry most that the fuckers are going to attrit us. The coalition is losing support in Europe, for God's sake. If it weren't for Iraq taking the heat, the news media would be here in greater numbers and would be telling the folks at home the truth."

"Okay, Miller. You know the problem. What's the solution?"

"You asked. There is no military solution. Understand that. We're treating this as a war with strategy and tactics from the past. It isn't a war, Bradford, we're fighting a disease. A plague. Strategically, we need to control their population with drugs, not weapons. Lace the water with birth control agents. We can develop others that aren't prohibited by the Geneva Convention. Yet."

"You're serious, aren't you? You didn't even smile."

"Damn right I'm serious. It isn't working. Let me give you another example. We spend billions at home trying to fight the drug problem on the supply side. Every year, they want more and more cops, drug agents, and more money for interdiction. Think there's a shortage of recreational and addictive drugs in the USA?"

"No. As best I can read, the market is well served."

"Oh, so you took economics? Then, you understand that reducing demand is the only effective strategy. They did it with smoking. Work on the demand side using all the PR methods we know about. That's the model. Ever read about Prohibition? They spent a lot of money trying to control the supply and lost."

"I'm with you. If there is a demand for drugs, that market will be served. All we have to do is look around here and know that the poppy fields are flourishing and we don't have an effective alternative for the farmers."

"When I say that we're fighting a disease, I'm saying we need another strategy. I'm not smart enough to fill in all the details, but I do know that what we're doing isn't getting us to where we want to be."

"I feel a quote coming on. Brace yourself. 'If you do more of the same thing every day and expect different results, you're crazy.'"

"I know that in law enforcement, the focus is on publicizing big drug busts. That fiddles with the local street prices for a few days, but it doesn't solve the problem. Spend ten percent of what we do on law enforcement on prevention research and good PR and we'll be a lot closer to where we want to be."

"I like your disease model. Maybe we should turn it over to the CDC?"

"Nah. They're too humanitarian. We need a few mad scientists."

"Now that we've solved that problem, I think I'll go think about it."

"You told me that you thought you'd be here only two weeks. Now, we've been here over six and no word about when anything might happen."

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me. I'd better go call my girl and get my regular ass-chewing for being here. I'm glad we had this session. I'm going to clip a few news reports describing Taliban atrocities against women and send them to her. Maybe she'll see the point, although I didn't come here to kill Taliban. I came here to try to find Pete."

"Bradford, we're going to free those guys they are holding and we're going to get them out alive. Maybe we'll even get us a covey of quail at the same time."

"I think you're right. I have to."

After talking with Cynthia and Laura, I felt better and worse. Talking to them made me happy. Thinking about what I was missing made it worse. I've been celibate far too long and I didn't even pledge my virginity to any abstinence group.

Cynthia

After Charles had been gone a month, Laura and I were lying in bed one night cuddled. She said, "So, Cyn, do you ever think you hooked up with the wrong guy? I mean, where's your boyfriend?"

Strange she should ask. I had been pondering exactly the same question as I drove home from work. "You mean, if I'd known then what I know now would I have moved in?"

She chuckled lightly. "Yeah."

"Probably. I was hooked on him when we took Geology. Maybe his indifference to me became a challenge. I wasn't accustomed to being ignored. I know that when we had our chats, we talked about real stuff. We shared everything except our sex lives. Maybe if I'd asked him about his love life then, he would have taken the hint."

She rolled over to hug me. 'No way did you make a mistake. You glow when he is around you. We love him and he loves us, and we're hooked."

"When he smiled at me at Louie's the first night, it made me nervous. Suddenly, my feelings for him erupted from inside. I sat with Blair while my heart fluttered because Charles smiled at me several times. When he kissed me on the dance floor I felt lost at sea. Suddenly, my marriage was even more a burden than I realized. The next day, I went with him to the lake and we kissed for hours. I wanted to make up for all the ones I missed."

Laura kissed me as we settled in for a while. She whispered, "I'm not Bradford, but I'm going to kiss you for him and try to make you feel loved. He's sending you a message through me."

"When I think of being here without you to love me, I shudder. I could be up there in that apartment alone wondering hour by hour what was happening to him. I hate being a war widow, but we'll come out of it. I feel so ashamed when I complain about his being in the Navy. Maybe I have to grow up."

She said softly, "I know how abandoned you feel. We have to let him know that we're with him no matter what. We can't change a thing until he comes home, unless you want to find someone else."

"Right now, he so has my number that I don't even enjoy flirting. There must be six guys at the lab that might have filled the bill before I lost myself, but they don't appeal. He told me once that he evaluated his girlfriends by what he calls the 'Cynthia Standard.' That fed my needy ego a gourmet emotional high."

"You have high standards yourself. I suppose we were both needy when he found us. He stroked my affection-deprived self so much that I could barely leave his bed and come home."

"When he made me feel loved and safe, I knew that I could share him with you. Jealousy just evaporated. You and I became more than friends quickly and I couldn't bear the thought of your being here alone when he was just upstairs."

"I went into shock when you asked if I wanted to be with him while you were away. I thought it might be some kind of trick, but you were too good a person to do that." She stroked my hair and face as she kissed all around. "Life's good, Cyn. I don't know how it could get better. We'll have to sort everything out again when he gets home, and girl I need to get sorted."

We spent longer tonight just kissing and stroking. Charles always kissed and stroked and whispered to me as long as I wanted. Laura seemed to sense my need as she kept loving on me. After a while, my motor started running and I needed more. "You ready to fuck me?"