"From the Halls of Montezuma
To the shores of Tripoli;
We fight our country's battles
In the air, on land, and sea;
First to fight for right and freedom
And to keep our honor clean;
We are proud to claim the title
Of United States Marine."
Sensitive content warning. Based on a true story.
Pierson, her dog Kaid, and I walked down the line with our human translator next to me.
Jalal El Fassi, a good kid. An Afghan native who fled with his family to the United States as a refugee and later joined the Marines. I'd worked with him a lot during that deployment. Considered him a close friend, too.
Times between operations were long, and maddingly boring. He'd told me a lot of stories from his childhood to pass the time. Most of them revolved around idolizing US troops as a child, growing up in a village where distant explosions weren't even enough to make 5-year-olds flinch. To them, they were no different than a sunrise.
Because of all that, Fassi hated terrorists just as much as we did. The United States gave him a second chance, and to him, he was paying it forward.
He and Pierson were having a conversation in Farsi, laughing at me. I caught a few cheeky glances from the corners of their eyes.
"Hey, knock that bullshit off."
"Yes, sir." Fassi chuckled.
Pierson snorted, and they continued their conversation in English.
"ANA reported activity in a roadside village, but I wasn't expecting all this." She said.
"Isn't that the village we did all that outreach shit at?"
"With the scorpion...yeah." I rolled my eyes, "That's the one..."
"So you think the reports are full of shit?" Pierson asked me.
"We have our orders. Does it matter what I think?"
"No, sir."
"Nope. Doesn't matter what you think, either." I sucked my teeth, "But I've got my 15-day R&R in three days. Kinda need you all alive for relief in place, so let's not fuck this up."
That got a laugh out of them.
"We won't fuck it up for you, SIR!" Fassi shouted.
When we finally made it to the front of the convoy, the gravity of the standoff hit harder than the sunrays from Hell.
"Fass, get on the mic and tell them they're going to be searched." I nodded to a Marine in the lead vehicle, and he passed Fassi a handset.
Didn't know what the fuck he said, but there was a shout from the other side of the dirt road no man's land.
"Get any of that?" I asked him.
"No, sir. But they heard us."
"Alright, Pierson..." I swallowed hard, not really wanting to send her ahead, "Go on and do your thing. We'll all be right here." I turned my head to the Gunner in the turret's seat, "And so will he."
She exhaled through her nose, wrapping Kaid's leash around her hand and adjusting her grip on her rifle, "Yes, sir...Kaid, let's go boy."
My CO came up behind us, helmet off, "There something I need to know?"
"Negative, Lieutenant."
"What's the holdup then?"
"Nothing, sir. Marine." I nodded to Pierson.
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