Page 1 of Vinny

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The mission had the squad of Special Forces men crouched behind a rock, watching the village below. Like other Nuristan villages, where many of the men had been killed, they could see a preponderance of women. The sun was setting behind the mountains casting shadows on the scene in front of them.

The twelve men of the squad were tired, angry—some with minor injuries. The mission was partially successful, but it was not without cost. They accomplished the first part of the job, but it turned deadly when the man they had been sent to rescue decided at the last minute to try to assault one of his sleeping captors, making their presence known. Trained to do whatever it took to make the mission successful, the twelve men worked as a complete team to get their target out of captivity, but now were traveling through a threatening area to their safe rendezvous, with the enemy behind.

Moving off of the beaten path, they came across agroup of women in a rocky field. In this country, where women were afforded little rights, they often turned to agriculture to feed their families.

How they eked a living from the craggy mountainsides, Vinny Malloy could not imagine as he shifted ever so slightly to keep an eye on the villagers below. He did not need to shift his gaze to know exactly where the rest of the squad was. Several years of training to be the best the Army had to offer, this squad was more in tune with each other than any he had served with.

His twin brother, Gabe, was about ten yards to his right. Gabe and he were both Medics, but Vinny was also the Weapons Sergeant and undeniably the best marksman and long-range shooter. Captain Tony Alvarez, the leader of the squad, was about fifteen feet to the left and Vinny knew that Tony’s eagle-eyes were trained on the activity in the village.

Chief Warrant Officer Bryant and the Engineer Sergeant moved behind several outcroppings of rocks to check their location. Jobe, another Weapons Sergeant, watched their rescue mission settle among the rough terrain and fall asleep.

Just a few more minutes, Vinny thought and they could continue toward the rendezvous. Trained not to feel fatigue, he nonetheless felt the slight drain of energy after the adrenaline of the fight. Suddenly, the sound of music reached his ears, jerking his gaze back to the women entering the village. The soft, lilting sound of the Afghan song rang through the night, sounding as foreign as the land around him.Women rarely sing, at least not in public.A few of the women were playing jawharps, the unusual twang adding a layer of harmony to the song. Then the sound of a crude lyre sounded in the night.

As different as the music was to his ears trained to heavy metal bands, he found it soothing. Comforting. As though in the middle of a war zone, something could be as normal as a woman singing. Her tune was unfamiliar, but the universality of music calmed his soul. Taking a deep breath, he listened as the sound carried across the evening sky.

Glancing to the side at Gabe, he noticed that his twin was listening too. They shared the same love of music. To his Special Forces squad and to his friends back home in Virginia, he was a hard rock lover. But their mother had sung Irish lullabies to them as children. As they had gotten older they sometimes complained about her singing all of the time.

"Bocht an fear bhíos gan cheol," she used to say, quoting an old Celtic phrase.Poor is the man that's without music.He suddenly realized that as soon as this mission was over, he needed to call home. His mom deserved that from both of her sons.

CWO Bryant quickly signaled Tony. With a few short words, he alerted their Captain that the enemy soldiers that had been following them were coming from the road, straight for the village below them. The women singing as they came from the fields were in danger and had no idea. All eyes jerked quickly to Tony, who gave an imperceptible shake of his head.

They were to stay hidden, keeping the mission safe. All of them followed orders. Never wavering. Neverquestioning. The sounds of music were abruptly halted, giving way to tortured wailing before the Afghanistan men could be seen continuing down the road.

Tony jerked his head forward in silent communication. Vinny and Jobe headed down toward the village, stealthily moving until they were just outside the largest building. With Jobe standing guard, Vinny leaned around the corner. The crying women surrounded another woman lying on the ground. She was covered in blood and he could see the lyre lying next to her on the ground. The harp was broken…and bloody.

Slipping back into the night, they reported what they had found to Tony whose jaw was tight with anger. The Communications Sergeant signaled that their transport was near so they began to move back through the rough terrain to the rendezvous. Jobe rousted the sleeping mission, hustling him on his way.

The silence of the night was punctuated only by the slight noise their booted footsteps made. Vinny focused on the task at hand—nothing else. Nothing else mattered but securing the mission. They met at the rendezvous and quickly helicoptered back to their base.

After the normal post-mission debriefing, the group headed to the showers. Vinny hung back after the others, not able to celebrate the success as easily as he normally would have. Gabe came back into the room, clad in only briefs, as he walked over to his locker. Pulling out clean sweats and a gray t-shirt, he looked over at his twin.

“You okay, bro?” Gabe asked.

Vinny sat silent for a moment, knowing that Gabewould wait patiently until he was ready to talk. Finally shaking his head, not able to get the vision out of his mind, he said, “Fuckin’ music.”

Gabe said nothing, waiting.

“I listen to music all the time. I like it loud, hard, fast, and rockin’.” Rubbing his hand over his face, he added ruefully, “Kind of like how I like to fuck.”

Gabe chuckled, settling his large frame on the bed across from Vinny. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“Yeah, I know. I just realized that most of what I listen to I like because it’s hard and fast. Don’t really feel anything other than getting pumped up.” He lifted his gaze to Gabe’s. “Remember mom singing?”

Nodding slowly, Gabe said, “Sure. Every night, those Irish songs sent us to sleep. First as little kids and then, hell…she would sing them in the other room when we got older. Used to drive us nuts.” Another silent moment passed before Gabe inquired, “What’s got you thinking about mom and her singing?”

“When Jobe and I went down to the village to check on things, I could see the woman who’d been singing. After the men came through, they made quick work of killing her.”

“I’m sorry, bro,” Gabe said gently, with heartfelt sympathy.

Vinny sat with his forearms on his tree-trunk legs, head hanging down. “And that fuckin’ harp. Not only was she killed but that harp thing she was playing was busted. Like they had to completely silence the music.”

Gabe stood, placing his hand on his twin’s shoulder. “You gonna be okay?”

Heaving a huge sigh, Vinny nodded. “Yeah. I just don’t think I’ll ever feel about music the same way. Something about that sound was haunting and made me think of mom when she would sing to us. It hit a little too close to home, you know?” Looking up at Gabe he said, “I think I’ll try to get a call off to mom later. You in?”

“Absolutely. Just let me know when.”

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