The Education of Caraline

After a long while of being ignored, I started to feel hungry – particularly since I’d missed breakfast, and lunch had been a strange, flatbread sandwich on the road. No one had come near me, and I suspected I’d been conveniently forgotten. But now I saw men lining up near the area which I presumed had been designated as the kitchen. I joined the end of the line and looked hopeful.

The Marines all seemed terribly young: most were in their early twenties, a couple were only 19 or so. I remembered that Sebastian had been even younger than that when he’d first been sent to Iraq, and Fido hadn’t made it to 20.

They were all sweetly shy around me, calling me ‘ma’am’, of course, and insisting I go to the front of the line. We were having MREs (meal ready-to-eat) ration packs. I was told the food was chicken and noodles; the noodles I recognized, the anemic-looking meat I was less sure about.

I squatted down with the group nearest to me, and got out my trusty bottle of soy sauce. It wasn’t long before it was doing the rounds – even among the boys who’d never even heard of soy sauce, let alone the tamari variety.

I asked each of them where they came from and what had made them enlist. For some, the Marine Corps was a chance to have a real family for the first time in their lives; for others it was a means to an end: learning a trade, or a college education; several said they wanted to serve their country, motivated by the events of 9/11. And for a few, I guessed, it was the difference between a slippery slope into a life of crime, and a chance to contribute something useful and make something of their lives.

I saw Sebastian once: he was standing at the compound’s entrance, next to one of the sangar observation posts, talking to a group of locals. He looked tired, and I wondered if he’d had a chance to eat.

“I don’t know how he talks that Greek shit,” said Larry, a friendly kid from Pittsburgh, who was nodding at Sebastian.

“It’s not Greek, fool!” snorted Ben, a native of Kansas City. “It’s Arabic, isn’t that right, ma’am?”

“Whatever, man: it’s all Greek to me,” said Larry, with a wide grin.

“It’ll either be Dari or Pashto,” I said, gently amused when Ben looked crushed by my correction. “I’m sure he’ll teach you a few words if you’re interested.”

He shrugged, noncommittally. I understood: Sebastian was an unknown quantity – one of them, yet not one of them.

Gradually, the men became more relaxed in my presence, and the laughter and joking attracted more people to our corner of the compound. Laughter that petered out the moment Captain Grant wandered over to see what was going on.

I think he was mildly surprised to find I wasn’t being a pain in the ass for a change, because he was almost civil to me, my early indiscretion forgotten, or at least forgiven.

Eventually, I decided to call it a day and despite being implored to stay and shoot the breeze, I headed to my closet.

The bathrooms were basic, and I was dreading becoming familiar with them. But at least I wouldn’t have the incredibly gross job of burning the waste every day. I wondered if it would be reserved for a punishment duty.

I brushed my teeth and rinsed with a mere mouthful of tepid water, swiped some of the dust off my face with baby-wipes, kicked off my boots and laid my body armor where I could reach it in a hurry. I knew I was probably a little ripe from a day of constant sweating, but I was too tired to care, and it wasn’t as if I could slip on my yoga pants after soaking in a hot tub.

Instead, I listened to the sounds of the camp around me: men going to their sleeping quarters, others going on watch. I realized what was missing: there was no birdsong. Nothing, not a single sound of any animal at all. The thought disturbed me, waking me more thoroughly than the alarm I had slept through this morning.

And then I heard a soft footfall outside my door.

“Caro?” he whispered.

I pushed open the door, and saw Sebastian crouching in the dim light. He wound himself through the narrow opening and wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly.

“It’s like a dream having you here,” he murmured. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and find I’ve imagined you.”

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