Marine Corps Stories: To the Lych-House

She possessed enough breaths to cry out in a fragile, small voice. “Take my rifle and my boots. Make a battlefield cross with a picture of my parents and my two boys and Jameel.” She tried to breathe. Every ounce of life that she had left focused on getting those last gasps of air into her failing lungs. She was a steam engine running low on fuel. Dangerously low. She brought up a few more words to instruct Staff Sergeant Melody Grohl. Her superior wasn’t having it.

“Don’t speak. Just lay back and breathe.” That Daphne did. She let out huge gasps of air as if she were a fish that landed on the beach. Her brown eyes closed. Her black skin contrasted with the sand. She was like an ebony sculpture laid out on ivory. But she continued to breathe. Until she didn’t. Rounds still clanged around this Saudi Arabian burnt out bus. Melody took her hand and wrapped it around Daphne’s. It was still warm. A surge of adrenaline coursed through Melody’s veins. She became a torrent. She spilled more rounds from her rifle that landed on her targets. Each one that dropped meant that she would be closer to the objective that the other Marines had set out to achieve. With Daphne’s death, there seemed to be a dearth in the amount of enemies willing to fight. They figured that with just a few Marines taking cover behind old transportation, the fight wasn’t worth it to continue the battle. Corporal Leah Trainor fired her last shots as the opposition scampered away into the day. Leah then came to see about the situation where Daphne and Melody had been planted at the outside rear of the bus. She ran over to the other two Marines.

“Staff Sergeant, what’s up with––” Leah started but then saw the blood soaked cammies and the motionless body. “Jesus,” remained her only words.

“Here help me lift her up over my shoulder. Just in case there are any jihadists, provide cover fire until we get back to the truck,” Melody said.

“Aye, Staff Sergeant.”

The two women escorted Daphne’s body through still treacherous land. Leah raised her weapon up on three occasions on the way to their armored vehicle. She never fired a shot. The vehicle sat about a mile away. Melody stopped. She switched shoulders and continued to carry her fallen sister in arms away. They finally reached the vehicle.

“We’ve got to get on the comms,” Melody said. “Tell base that we’ve got a KIA. Do you believe in God, Trainor?”

“No.”

“Neither do I. The chaps will be prepared to send Daphne home full of mysticism. We won’t be praying over her. That’s for sure.”

“Yes, Staff Sergeant,” Leah said with solemnity. They sped away from the site.

Once they returned to the base, the commanding officer (CO), Lieutenant Colonel Alejandro Compaño, walked up to Melody and Leah. The two Marines exited the vehicle and rendered salutes to the top Marine on base.

“We’ve got Lance Corporal Hills’ family on standby. We were unable to contact her other nearest of kin.” Melody spoke to her boss.

“I think that we can get in touch with her boyfriend. She had taped a note of who to contact on the inside of her helmet, sir.” Melody removed the battlefield cover from Daphne’s head. “She didn’t include him in her next of kin because of the fallout between her family and Jameel.”

Compaño took hold of the note and looked upward. “Here, let’s get her to the lych-house. We can sort all of this family business out later.”

“Aye, sir,” Melody and Leah said together.