Page 110 of Brighter Shades of Light
As an enlisted Marine, Anthony was a combat engineer, and I was his superior officer. Back in North Carolina, we had become friends, but the deployment had brought us even closer. My rank might have been above his, but I never let that go to my head. He rendered support to and respected me, even though we often bantered and gave each other shit.
I nodded to him and stood from the table before getting my gear and heading outside.
It had taken a while to get used to the climate in Afghanistan. Blue skies with little to no cloud coverage and desert terrain. And the dust…that shit was everywhere. It was one of the first things I noticed. The heat was the second thing. It had been fucking awful. I’d never experienced anything quite like it.
Now that it was January, the temperature was a lot better, but it could get pretty cold at night.
As a combat engineer, I was like a jack of all trades. My duties included maintenance, repair, operating heavy machinery, and clearing minefields. During the seven months in Helmand Province, the other engineers and I had built patrol bases and demilitarized the other bases that no longer served a purpose. We had also done smaller tasks around camp, like built flooring for tents outside the shower units and benches and tables so everyone would have places to sit and eat.
The mission today was to remove an old bridge and do basic demolition in a marked area to take out trees and put in craters for ditching. The indirect fire bunkers helped with security and protection, and the bridges helped secure routes.
My squad and I set out in our Humvees and traveled toward the location. The glaring sun seemed like it could melt your eyes from your sockets if you weren’t careful. I shielded my eyes with sunglasses I had bought from a bazaar for five bucks. They also helped with the dust, so it was a two for one, in my book.
As we drove by in our convoy, we passed mud huts and crumbling buildings. There were some kids who saw us and started waving, their smiles a refreshing sight compared to the area around them. The civilians didn’t fear us like I thought they would. Some remained leery, but most of them knew we were only here to help them. Without us here, the province could fall under Taliban control.
I waved back.
The wind picked up, blowing dust in our faces, and I tried to breathe as best I could. I had forgotten what it was like to go outside and get a lungful of air without coughing and hacking at the gusts of sand.
At the location, we walked to the old bridge. The grunts with us surveyed the area and kept watch just in case we came under attack. It wasn’t as common as it used to be, but there were still small forces that tried to move in on us, like the day we had been attacked while patrolling. Picking off a few Marines would be the highlight of their day.
As an officer, I assisted our squad in placing the explosives before we stepped back far enough and detonated them. Blowing shit up never failed to make me a little giddy. It was work, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy it.
Later that evening, we were back on the U.S. base. Anthony and I walked together to go eat dinner, deep in conversation about which of the Marvel superheroes had the best power.
“Captain America,” I said, as we entered the chow hall. “Hands down.”
“Nah, I think Black Panther,” he countered.
“You can’t top Captain America. He’s a symbol.”
“I’m sure you betyoucould top him.”
“Whoa.” I arched a brow at him. “You had to go there, huh?”
Anthony smirked before going down the line.
The food was served cafeteria-style, and everyone sat wherever a seat was available. There were hotdogs, burgers, and chicken sandwiches, but no matter how much it posed as the comforts of home, it never quite hit the mark for me. I grabbed a burger before throwing together a salad and sitting down.
Sebastian would be proud of me for at least trying to be a little healthy.
We sat at the nearest table, Anthony in front of me.
“Second Lieutenant Miller,” the man beside me said, squaring his jaw.
I looked to see Sergeant Wilson and inwardly groaned. His tightly drawn features and pursed lips said everything his words didn’t. He hated me. Not because I wronged him in any way. He was a seasoned Marine with multiple deployments under his belt and years of service. And I outranked him.
As a commissioned officer, my rank exceeded all staff non-commissioned officers—or Staff-NCOS—even though I was way younger and inexperienced. It made some of them bitter.
“Sergeant Wilson,” I responded with a nod.
He focused on his food and said nothing more.
Conversation drifted off, making the quiet meal awkward. I was thankful to get the hell out of there and return to my bunk. Sliding onto my bed, I pulled my computer onto my lap and opened the chat with Sebastian. When we weren’t video chatting, we often instant messaged back and forth and replied when we could. It was nearing ten here, so it should only be two in the afternoon there.
Me:You around?
Sebastian:Yes. I’m just reading. How are you?
