"Gone but not forgotten"

“The Aftermath”

This nightmare of a day has finally ended. When I got up, seeing my uniform thrown in different directions in the room. Blood stains thrown on this old pinkish colored sheet. Men laying around the bed. Empty beer bottles with not a sip left in them. That’s what my military life was like.

These men were like my brothers, until I got to be their party. Men and women were not allowed to be in the same dorms unless they were working together or had another good excuse to be around each other. These rules did exist but not for everyone and certainly not for lieutenant Max Walker.

After some struggle to get my stiff body out of bed. Seeing all of these purplish bruises that were within inches from each other covering my upper body. Some more were around my ankles, which were mouth shaped on the inner side of my legs. I remember the hairs on the back of my neck standing up as I can hear creaking sounds of someone walking towards the bedroom. Walker looks out of the doorway; I get up quickly like its 5am physical training routine

Walker says, “Wow! what a wild night sergeant Jackson, how come I didn’t get to see this side when we were on deployment.”

What he didn’t understand as that I didn’t like him in Afghanistan and that this was a one-time thing that could never happen again.

“Morning Lieutenant Walker, I believe I wasn’t in your unit towards the end of our deployment. We moved to Kabul for other urgent missions.”

Kabul was the worst place I have lived in. we were not allowed to go out during the day. The base there didn’t have any cell service. It was the first-time during deployment where I felt loneliness. I remember having to write letters to my mother to tell her about the way things were and how excited I was to see her again. I didn’t send all letters because I wrote so many. I hated writing letters because it made my deployment unbearable. I spent the past 2 years on these different missions where we didn’t get rid of any terrorists nor saved anyone.

Walker: “ugh! Kabul was the worst I can’t believe they moved you guys there.”

Then he pauses to recollect what has happened by looking around the room.

“I hope you understand that this has to stay between these 4 walls, I don’t think you want the word to get out.”

“Yes, sir there will be no record of this…”

“Kabul, Afghanistan”

After spending a year and a half on these failed missions that were created in Uruzgan. Our missions were to stop terrorist groups like the Taliban from taking over the country. We didn’t do much on these missions but made attack plans that were never put in action. Our squad teams were not looking for this type of excitement the way I did, but I felt safe being part of this team. There were other girls that were a lot like me, so it was nice to make friends. Our squad team included 10 members I didn’t know all but I knew the majority, Tom who went by BJ because he was caught in the act with someone years ago. Angie, who was very religious and kind and Bob, who went by the nickname “dick” for being a dick most of the time.

I ended up moving with this small group to Kabul. we were anxious to know where our new home was for the last 5 months of our deployment. We are never told of changes earlier; we are always told the same week the decisions were made by the higher anarchy. We are not allowed to refuse to help or question them. it was “do as your told” type of culture.

Our jokes had no boundaries which was another big part of the military culture. If you are sensitive and can’t take these jokes this is not the place for you. It didn’t matter if it was male or female, they treated everyone the same. When anyone hits you on the back its their way of patting you on the back. They bully you to strengthen your mind so no matter what you hear from the enemy can never put you down.

Kabul was never my favorite place for many reasons. First, was because of the crappy base we were put on. That didn’t have any Wi-Fi or cell service, the food was not edible it was worse than the MREs (Meals ready to eat). Looking back, I miss the stale piece of bread that was served with grape flavored jam. The rooms were about 500-600 sqft, you could hear all your three neighbors at the same time. Second, it was the first time in deployment where I felt this loneliness that reminded me of Mark.

“El Paso, Texas”

The first time I heard about the missing girls is when I was active duty stationed in El Paso. A year before my deployment to Afghanistan. It was where I first met Lieutenant Walker, who was responsible for our unit at one point. I only got to meet him when I was finally placed in one unit.

Then after me and my small group did our annual combat training in Colorado. We came back to the news of Rebecca one of our squad members missing. Her position was the same authority that covered up the news on the missing girls all around the country. It was another reason why I didn’t like her, but I didn’t hate her to see her missing.

She was only 26-years-old holding an important position in our unit. Which was not common, the higher anarchy must like you to be in her position. I remember when the army opened the investigation that lasted until we came back from Afghanistan. I was instigated for 5 hours just like my team members. The army was now interested in the 20+ cases of the missing girls. Some were missing while on deployment and some were just gone overnight.

Rebecca’s job was to investigate these missing girls, but Bob told me that she had the files stacked in a box she used to hold her office door open. Since she was part of the higher anarchy maybe that’s why they had to investigate her case. Even though it was believed she covered up for some of the cases. The military was sued over almost every case but since most of the bodies were discovered and the cause of death was labeled as suicide there was no need to keep the investigations open. I am not sure how one of the victims ended up being suffocated and buried in the Mojave Desert. Or the girl that was found in the army base in Nevada with zip tie bruising’s on both of her wrists. All these girls were gone to us but never forgotten.

“Colorado Springs”

It was all covered up, just like my story. After my deployment in Afghanistan, I turned into alcohol as an antidote to my depression. I was engaged 3-years ago but he was killed in Kabul after one of the flying rockets ended up killing over 50 soldiers. My fiancé Mark was the only good military man I fell for, but he was long gone, and I couldn’t move on even after coming back from deployment.

After we got back, lieutenant Walker was promoted taking over his wife’s position. He was responsible for our intelligence unit. I guess things started looking up for him after her death.

The night before the incident took place. The unit held a barbecue like they usually do. Fatty steaks and the highest percentage kind of beer was the party, and I couldn’t say no since it was the only entertainment we had on base.

The barbecue went on until 2 am and no one cared for curfew since we were celebrating someone of importance. By that time, I was on my 7 or 8 drink of beer I was still wide awake and not drunk. I remember my team laughing and chatting around the bonfire, I remember having a conversation with walker

Walker: “Hey you!”

”Hi, congrats on your promotion!”

Walker: “Thank you Sargent Jackson, I appreciate you joining us.”

I start looking around for cold beer then he interrupts

”You know we were thinking to finish the after party in my building, would you like to join?”

I wanted to stay away from walker, especially hearing some of the rumors about him killing his wife. It makes sense why people find him guilty. It didn’t matter though because he has so much authority and favored by the higher anarchy. Every woman that met him liked him or thought of him more than just a boss. I opened my heart that night told myself it is time to move on to live a normal life like before not just work or sending money to my mother since I lost all my ambition after Marks death.

We get into the room, where we find all kinds of booze laying on one of the beds. Then I remember grabbing the Jameson bottle which was my last memory for the night. After leaving the room, trying to cover and hold onto my uniform jacket and hat. I was so flustered I tripped while I was speed walking through the offices on each side of the hallway. The walk from the administration building to my dorm felt like a 12-mile walk. I rush in, my hands were so shaky I could barely put the lock back to its place to feel safe in my own space again.

The dorms were quiet on that day, I ran to the bathroom slamming the door. Being angry at myself for not remembering what happened. I take a deep breath then jump in the shower avoiding the mirror. The water was so warm, yet I was shivering then I get these flashbacks remembering the men from my squad were on top of me last night. I was barely conscious, yet they were holding me down. After each one I felt like I was sinking into the mattress, and it felt softer the more I sunk in. I lay on my side to puke, reopen my eyes to find myself laid on my back where I black out again.

To be continued ...