The Fear That Haunts Me

CHAPTER 18

Rules Of Engagement

Implications and Training Marines

We must review all aspects of the fight, from weaponeering to the understanding of proportionate force. Training needs to be discussion and scenario based, thus forcing Marines to articulate their perceptions of and responses to the situations. "Wrong" answers should not be reprimanded but need to be explored further. This will take time, but we cannot allow wallflowers to escape participation. We must further empower subordinate unit leaders to continue the training at their levels.

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As the sun rose, it revealed a landscape of dead bodies and scorched earth. Much of the ridgeline embers still glowed from the nighttime airstrike. Smoke plumed into the sky.

According to the battle damage assessment, we killed between thirty-one and fifty in the firefight and subsequent airstrike. Seven of the villagers had died. Thankfully, not one child.

Theo, Viking, Red, and I stood near Aaina's pit. It was now half-light. The air was still and heavy. The smells returned, awful and pungent. Though the chill still hung in the air, I started to sweat. Nothing seemed alive.

It was eerie and heavy. There were no clouds or birds. The village and the mountains were silent. I felt anxious with pressure on my chest, shoulders, and head. It was oppressive—spiritual or demonic; I didn't know—but I couldn't escape it.

"Don't take it in, boys," said Theo. His voice toneless and exhausted. "This place will haunt you forever."

I couldn't help myself, even after his warning. I stepped toward the edge of the pit and looked inside. Dust and rocks coated the T-Man lying at the bottom of the pit. He was almost unrecognizable. He looked ancient. Like he'd been there for a millennium.

The disgust of Aaina's violent abuse and the oppression of these people made me feel powerless. My heart pounded, and my face felt flush. I took shallow breaths and clenched my jaw. As I squeezed my rifle, I glared at the body in the pit.

"Fuck you—and fuck your people forever."

I spat a stream of tobacco on his head. Both tobacco and spit.

"Kelly, hey," said Theo. "Over here—Corporal." I saw him from the corner of my eye. He waved his index and middle finger to get my attention. "Go see if Doc needs a hand."

I nodded slightly before looking at the pit and the bodies surrounding it. Heading to Doc, I thought of the Jolly Roger, Hook, and Smee.

I know not why he was so infinitely pathetic unless it were because he was so pathetically unaware of it. Still, even strong men had to turn hastily from looking at him, and more than once on summer evenings, he had touched the fount of Hook's tears and made it flow. Of this, as of almost everything else, Smee was quite unconscious.

We heard the faint hum of engines in the distance as the column rolled from the south. The Humvees maneuvered the twisting hardball before they moved off the road near the crater. I counted seven and three LAVs, but when the lead vehicle left the highway, the rest disappeared beneath the massive cloud of moondust and ash.

"Jesus Christ," said Viking. "I'd rather walk. I mean, what the hell, right?" He covered his mouth with his forearm as the wind and the column pushed the dust cloud into our faces. "It's like, I'm not dirty enough—I need a freaking bath, dude."

"Yeah, well," said Theo. "Let me do the talking. This thing's already a shit show." I watched him as he stared at the column. His eyes were absent, as he seemed doleful. I walked close so that nobody could hear me.