Moon Dust | Generation Kill

Chapter 2: Camp Mathilda

It was a crazed rush of bodies, vehicles, and voices just like it always was when men and women were set to deploy, no matter how many days or weeks went into the planning. Something minor always went wrong, someone always lost something, and usually, a poor shmuck getting ready to head out on his first tour puked. The only members of service that were ready and as focused as ever were the dogs, and even they got a little bent out of shape as soon as they were kenneled and boarded onto the planes.

Bending down to give her pack one last go-over and to triple-check that she had everything she would need, Katie took a moment to reach her fingers into the kennel beside herself and wiggle them at Whiskey—a way to show him that she would be with him every step of the way.

Whiskey, however, was unphased by the chaos that was unfolding around him. With a slight perk of his ears, the calm canine indicated that he was listening to his handler while still remaining unbothered by his surroundings. 

"Damn, how do you get your dog to do that?" one of the other handlers commented as he noticed Whiskey out of the corner of his eye in passing. "I've been trying to get her into a kennel for the past thirty minutes but she has too much pent up energy." He gestured down to the dog beside him that was panting hard and prancing in place. 

"It has nothing to do with me," Katie confessed as she stood upright again. "Whiskey has done this before and he's just really good with staying focused in a very distracting environment."

The man nodded as he looked down at his dog once more. "Do you ever get worried that once you get over there they'll forget all their training?"

Katie shook her head as she hoisted her bag up over her shoulder. "It's not the dogs you have to worry about, it's the people," she told him matter-of-factly. "Trust me, once you're out there, the teammate you can trust the most is the one at the end of your leash. Listen to her and you'll be fine."

The nervous marine nodded slowly, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead as he did so, either from the heat, the nerves, or both. "Is this your first tour?"

"Second," Katie answered. "You?"

"First."

"I can tell." Katie rested a reassuring hand on the man's shoulder and flashed a warm smile. "You're gonna do fine. I know it seems scary, but just remember, you'll never be alone. Listen to your dog, listen to your teammates, and listen to your instincts; drown out everything else."

When the time came to start loading the dogs up, Katie wished the nervous marine good luck before stepping back to be with Whiskey until it was their time to board the plane. As soon as the woman took her seat though, her own nerves began to kick in. 

These nerves were different from the ones she had felt right before her first time shipping out though. The nerves from last time had been fueled by uncertainty and worst-case scenarios. This bout of anxiety was fueled by the knowledge of what was waiting and the fact that it was indeed going to be much more intense than before. 

Once everything was finally packed and secured, the large back door of the plane closed up again and the aircraft took off. Some of the dogs started whimpering and some of the people started to anxiously chatter, but for the ones who had been through this before, there was nothing but silence.

Closing her eyes, Katie blocked out the surrounding noises and tried to focus on everything she had been taught. Despite trying to keep her mind on the task at hand, it wasn't long before her thoughts began to wander away. Katie thought about her family—she thought about how disheartened her mother had sounded when she had heard the news, she thought about how everyone else would react when they found out she wasn't coming home, and soon after that, Katie remembered that in all of the disarray, she had completely forgotten to phone her father.