Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 6

when I went to the computer tent to make a skype call home to Mom, I had to see and listen to my fellow Marines, talking with their wives and significant others — "Baby, I miss you so much." "Baby, I love you and I can't wait to see you again." There were even the bold ones who tried to be quiet but apparently didn't care if anyone heard — "Baby, I'm gonna fuck you six ways to Sunday when I get home." Hell, I'd even heard a couple of skype marriage proposals. It was like a kick in the gut every time to have to listen to all of them and know that even if Chase and I were together, I'd never be able to tell him those things, not in such a public setting. As painful and unfair as it was, it just reinforced my decision.
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    The only times my mind felt clear and focused was when I was out on patrols. I had to be completely attuned and alert to the situation at hand and I actually felt less tense, as fucked up as that was. It was actually a relief to not be wallowing in my thoughts and feelings.
    I began to volunteer for extra patrols to fill in for anyone who needed a break. After a few times of this, my commanding officer called me on it and wanted to know if anything was going on with me. It was part of his job to keep tabs on the men and their emotional states. Often times a soldier volunteering for more danger meant he was on a suicide mission. And not only did that mean he was in danger of getting himself killed, but he also could be dangerous to the other men on his team.
    I was not about to tell him the real reason, of course but I did manage to convince him that I was just bored with the off-time and wanted to keep busy. It was a reasonable request; a lot of guys want to keep busy to not think about home too much.
    I had agreed to yet another volunteer mission, this time filling in for another fellow radio operator who was cut down with a bout of the flu or food poisoning. I was on a new team, and as I looked around at who I'd be heading out with, I recognized the gay soldier from back home, the one with the boyfriend. I finally found out his name— McCann was stitched on his uniform. I found a rush of jealousy welling up in me, jealousy that he was apparently able to deal with the whole situation of having a secret relationship. A little shame began to creep in too, that I hadn't been able to handle things as well as he had. He looked over and saw me and gave me a smile and a nod and I nodded back.
    As the radio operator, it was my job to make sure everyone's radio equipment was in working order and that everyone was able to stay in contact with each other. I got to hear all messages going back and forth between those of us out in the field and those at base command. It might sound like I was just an IT sort of guy and I was, in a way, but it was also a very important job. Men got killed when communications went awry.
    We had been out for a couple of hours and everything was going very routinely when I started getting some strange garbled messages from the team ahead of us. I kept trying to call out to them, but there was interference and radio static that I was trying frantically to fix. And then all hell broke loose from my radio speaker— loud yelling and strings of swear words and sounds of gunfire, and a huge explosion. I had already jumped into action, radioing back to base camp for help and yelling at my men to get moving. It was now our job to hurry to where the first team was and provide back-up for whatever was going on.
    When we got there it was pretty much chaos— fires and black smoke, the other Marines yelling back and forth. And they were still shooting which meant there were still enemy forces around. I was relaying the scene in detail to base camp, when I heard another small explosion behind me. I felt myself getting knocked to the ground and then nothing but blackness.
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    That was the last thing I remembered before waking up in the base hospital. I was fine, thank God, just a lot of scrapes and a minor concussion. All head injuries were treated very seriously though, so no matter how minor, I had to stay in the hospital a couple of days. Other than a dull headache and occasional dizziness, I felt fine but they wouldn't release me. I guess I shouldn't complain; I was damn lucky. A few other guys had more severe injuries and three hadn't made it at all. Since neither of the teams I was helping were my regular guys, I didn't know any of them. It didn't matter though, losing any