Danielās bone tired. Basic has been kicking his ass, literally. Thereās a four inch bruise across his rear from a slip in the mud during a team and strength building exercise. The log was heavy over his head and he was so incredibly exhausted. All it took was one guy in the back to falter to have the log crash down on them.
But his Sergent was there, barking out orders into his face and Daniel was up at 0500 even though they had just been released to the bunks at 0100. This isnāt what the recruitment officer promised, it isnāt what he signed up for, but Daniel can see the change in himself. Heās being cracked and remolded as better, and itās something new and different. He isnāt just Dan Cox, one of the local kids at the local school just dicking around with his life. Johnny and Ronnie are still working at the diner in the middle of town, and Daniel is here. Itās worth it, he remembers, and he shoulders on.
Daniel spends his twenty-first birthday training. He wakes up at 0700 for a three hour PT session. His buddy, Q, brings him a protein bar cake with a candle in it. Itās not a real cake, just 80g of protein from four premade bars smashed together. It brings a huge smile on his face and he laughs for ten minutes afterwards. The rest of his day is normal. He doesnāt tell most people what the day is to him. Danielās not a big party person. But at the end of the day his bunk is decorated in streamers and his entire squad is there, grinning over at him.
They have alcohol and even his Captain stops by to wish him a happy birthday. He feels an overwhelming rush of family, wrapping around him and keeping his warm.
Daniel falls asleep that night with a smile on his face. When he wakes up the next morning, he canāt help but spend five minutes in the mirror, looking for his new tattoo. Itās not there. Daniel takes it in stride, knowing that even if he doesnāt have a soulmate, yet, he has a brotherhood. Thatās what counts.
Itās Danielās favorite holiday and heās over 7500 miles away from real, American soil. Some of his men have sparklers, and theyāre running around in their standard issue tighty whities like a bunch of idiots. Dan laughs, crossing his large arms over his chest, but he doesnāt join in.
āItās nice to see them in good spirits.ā He didnāt hear Staff Sergeant Powell approach on his right, but Daniel snaps to attention, throwing out a stiff salute.
āAt ease Dan. Thereās no big brass around here.ā Daniel likes Richard. Heās down to Earth, and although heās serious as can be, heās a good man. The officer/enlisted dynamics can get weird. Daniel wishes he had skipped college and just thrown himself to the fire. Thereās a lot of paperwork, a lot of separation, and something more that comes with being an officer. Richard can slum it with the guys, but Daniel has to be professional at all times.
Powell doesnāt have a beer in his hand. Instead, thereās a hefty letter with a loopy scrawl that Daniel could only describe as bubbly and angry. The pen marks are indented into the paper, almost breaking through in certain punctuation and sentences. Dan doesnāt read the words; he already knows what itās about.
āThe missus writing about your girl, Sergeant?ā
Rich lets out a sigh, and Daniel shakes his head. His daughter, Charlie, always seems to be in some kind of trouble. Sheās a brat, from all Daniel can tell, but Richard is crazy about his girls so he doesnāt comment. Rich just nods, tucking his reading glasses back into his vest and the letter back into the envelope.
āYouāre heading out to Airborne next month when weāre back stateside to pick up the 78th.ā
They donāt talk about racism in the Army. Itās one of those things, like being gay, that is frowned upon. So when Powell pushes buttons and eases him through, Daniel understands that heās sticking his neck out for him. Dan understands he doesnāt have to do it, and heās forever grateful that he does.
Danielās chest swells out in pride. Heās doesnāt know what to say, and thereās a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes as Trekowiz and Halsworth whoop and holler around in their underwear. Heāll wake them up at 0600 to remind them why alcohol is prohibited, but for now, they can have their fun.
āIāll do you proud,ā Daniel promises, and Rich just chuckles and claps him on his shoulder. Danielsās a solid head taller than him, but Powell feels so much bigger than him in that moment. Itās humbling.
āI know you will, Dan.ā
Their squad moves and changes too much for his liking. Their troop is recalled back to base for two months and Daniel qualifies as a Marksman. He adds the badge next to his shiny paratrooper title and adjusts to the M9 weighing heavily by his side. Daniel keeps his revolver on him as well. Itās a personal choice and he prefers the old school gun. Itās sturdy and the sand never seems to bother it like it does his M4.
Staff Sergeant Powell happens to be stationed at the same area. They take their lunches together, shooting the shit. Daniel is introduced to important men, game changers. Itās another humbling experience and he knows exactly what Richard is playing at. These are the men he needs to know for his promotion, for his career. Heās shaping him into something bigger than himself and Daniel feels like he has two fathers taking care of him instead of just one.
They garner a reputation. Itās a small one, but Danielās squad seems to have a penchant for finding things. One time, itās a fuel reserve for an insurgent camp. The next time itās encrypted data for a suicide strike on Delta company. They do their jobs and people watch them, curious as to when theyāre going to fail. Daniel does everything to make sure they donāt.
Danielās the one who pins the stripes on Halsworthās shoulder, and he imagines this is what it feels like to be a proud parent. Thereās pure joy shining in the kidās eye and Daniel makes sure to leave him a small bottle of whisky with a red bow in his bunk when no one is looking. The bottle isnāt signed but Halsworth has his sunglasses on inside of the mess hall the next morning and Danielās laugh fills up the empty space in the room.
Q finds his soulmate. One day, he falls asleep, and the next he wakes up with a name on his wrist. Danielās surprised, mostly because he had no idea that Q was gay. He orders a standard issue army sweatband that sits over his wrist. He has no idea who Kelvin Lee is, but he must be one hell of a guy to be able to keep up with Q. They donāt discuss it with anyone. DADT is too real, and Q is a damn good soldier. Daniel doesnāt care if heās gay, bi, purple, or human. Heās the exact person he wants next to him when everything goes AWOL.
āDo you ever wonder who he is?ā Daniel asks one day out of the blue. Q knows him well enough to not have to ask. His head turns side to side to make sure no one is listening.
āEvery day,ā he admits, and Daniel just nods back, preoccupied. Maybe, one day soon, heāll get his mark too.
Afghanistan is awful. Daniel always has sand stuck in his boots, falling out of his underwear, and muddled up in his socks. There are people, women and children, that want him dead. A guy in the 1st had his hand blown off from a grenade hidden in a basket of fruit delivered from a local village. It is war is the most brutal and violent sense. There are no pulled punches and no hesitation. They stain the sands with red for the sake of life. Daniel thinks about it, a lot.
Itās a routine patrol. Theyāre hanging around, fussing and laughing in the back of an Army Jeep. Itās nice to have a break from humping it through the desert and Danielās enjoying the drive. Qās got a way of handling the jeep, and even though he has no formal training, heās always the driver. Halsworth doesnāt have the strap to his damn helmet buckled. Danielās told him to keep it secure a dozen times, and the kid never listens. When the ordinance explodes, itās the first thing Daniel sees, that helmet flying through the air. It feels like slow motion. It bounces around in the jeep like a ping pong ball and suddenly theyāre on their side. Glass crunches and Danielās vision rattles as they flip three times.
He doesnāt remember most of it. Pieces flash in and out, black filling up the empty space. His voice is calm but his tone is demanding and serious. This is what heās trained for, and now everyone is relying on him to keep them safe. Daniel doesnāt remember what he says. His eyes glance over Halsworth and he reaches for the man next to him.
Trekowiz is pulled out first. Daniel has a solid hundred pounds on him, and he tosses him out of the jeep with ease. Thereās a couple of other guys who are still conscious, and when Daniel clears the bush, over to a good fall back spot on a hill, the medic starts tending to Trek. The jeepās starting to catch fire, and Qās nowhere to be found. Daniel runs back towards the cloud of black smoke thatās coming from under the hood. He doesnāt hear his men yelling at him, or the bursts of fire from m4 standard rifles and uzi pistols.
Daniel counted five men, minus Halsworth. Danielās purposefully ignoring thinking about him. He wonāt be moving any time soon. The smoke is so thick it stings and burns at Danielās eyes. Q is still strapped into the seat. Heās conscious, sort of, and Daniel can see a thin trickle of blood from under his helmet, sliding down his dark skin to stain his uniform. Qās eyes are glazed over. Theyāll find out later he has a concussion and three broken ribs.
His words are slurred and his seat belt is smashed up. Daniel has to cut through it just to pull him out. He can feel heat on the back of his neck and a hissing sound over the firefight outside. One moment, heās tugging and pulling on the seat-belt and the next heās whipping around.
His S&W is in his hand in an instant and Daniel fires one bullet. It hits the man dead between his eyes, and he drops with a sick thud. There is no hesitation, no kindness, and no empathy. War is unyielding and it has bled into his veins and taken his mercy. Daniel is war, consumed, in that moment, and heās never been more terrifying. He remembers bits and pieces, like pulling Q out of the seat and slinging him over his shoulder. He remembers dropping another two men and sprinting back to the hill. He remembers the spike of pain when a bullet finally finds purchase under his skin.
Theyāll tell him, later, that the squad of insurgents were hot on their tail. That Daniel looked straight out of Hollywood running with two hundred pounds over his shoulders through the brush and back over the small hill. That when he dropped Q down he took out three more men with just four bullets at twenty yards.
Qās lung deflates on the way over to the hospital, and Daniel isnāt there to save him. The GSW doesnāt hit anything important. Itās a stray bullet that was nearly stopped by his vest, more of a graze than anything else, and Daniel demands to be discharged against medical advice. Daniel doesnāt sleep that night. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees Halsworthās young face without his goddamn helmet, over and over and over.
He visits Q at the field hospital. Heās in his service blues, fully decorated. Thereās ceremonies a review boards all afternoon. The morning, though, is dedicated just to Q.
āIt could have been me, man,ā Q mumbles, and there are tears in his eyes. War is getting to him. Itās getting to all of them. Thereās so much violence Danielās used to it, heās desensitized to it. War is nothing like the movies and tv. Itās harsh and blurry and too real. But Halsworth was just dancing around in his underwear on the 4th of July. He was just painting an Eagle in black ink on the side of his helmet that he never buckled. Daniel was just pinning those stripes to his collar.
āBut it wasnāt,ā Daniel repeats, over and over and over again. Q cries into his shoulder and Danielās face doesnāt move, impossibly blank. He canāt imagine a wold without his best friend. He doesnāt think heād survive it.
He doesnāt feel like a hero the next day, when the brass calls him in for a medal. Itās shiny and Daniel can see his own somber face in it. It sits in a box on his desk as he writes Halsworthās mother a personal note in the late hours of the night.
Itās been years since basic and Danielās first tour is finally done. He comes back from the war with a chest full of medals and a promotion under his name. Important people know his name, for better or for worse. Daniel goes to work, he does his job, and he leaves all of the bullshit at the door. He is the perfect, model soldier with his wide set shoulders and his unfaltering poker face.
His wings are pinned to his chest the same week that Q puts in his letter. Daniel feels like heās losing twice over. Q is his best friend, and heās also his best Corporal. Q goes to his ceremony. Dan nearly cries when they hug, because he hates losing family, and he knows heāll feel more alone. He canāt help but feel jealous, too, that heās got a soulmate and Daniel is still all by himself. When heās in his room with fresh paint on the door and not another soul in sight, he decides that the Army will be his soulmate. His next tour leaves in three weeks, and Danielās the first one there, waiting for the plane.
Two other men in his squad get their marks. Daniel pretends like he isnāt jealous. In a sense, he isnāt. But day in and day out Danielās skin goes unmarked and he feels like hes been cheated out of something.
They return stateside and their squad is short once again. Burkeās mark is his high school sweetheart, and Ramirez doesnāt have a clue who the woman on his bicep in, but heās damn well going to find out while heās still young enough to have kids. Daniel doesnāt blame them. Heād do the same, in their position. Theyāre in North Carolina for four months. Itās just long enough for Daniel to catch up on pop culture and visit his family to check in on his parents.
The squad feels empty without Q, but Daniel adjusts, slowly but surely. He trusts his men, he cares for them deeply, but they arenāt Q. He no longer has a best friend, a confidante in the squad. He has men he can trust and soldiers he can rely on. It should be enough, so it is. They fly out to Korea to man the DMZ. Itās a lot slower than Afghanistan, but Daniel relishes in the quiet. There is no longer sand hiding near every inch of his body. There is no poisoned fruit and grenades in baskets. Danielās had enough noise to last a lifetime, and the DMZ keeps him busy.
His Corporal doesnāt think that Baker will last a week in the war. Heās green, fresh from bus, and he resembles a golden retriever in almost every sense of the word. Their Sergeant bets itāll be two weeks before Daniel reminds them that betting is illegal. From then on out Daniel pays attention to Baker. Heās a Captain now, he has a duty to his men. Baker may be all sunshine and rainbows, but he has realism behind his optimistic smiles. Daniel never shows any favoritism. He talks to Baker just as much as everyone else, never more or less.
He lasts much longer than a week. Daniel smiles when no one is looking when someone from the betting pool cusses day after day when heās still there. Heās promoted to PFC a month and a half early under Danielās recommendation, and heās proud of Baker and his promise. Heāll be a fine Sergeant one day. Daniel will make sure of it.
Daniel stops looking for his tattoo. Itās pointless, he reminds himself, because heās already dedicated himself to the Army. Anything else, anyone else, is not as important. Itās what he tells himself when heās sleeping in his bun, or heās dug in somewhere for the night. He doesnāt even find a new Q, someone to talk with on long, lonely nights. Daniel writes. The Army has a pen pal system he utilizing, sometimes. He writes Q, although every letter stings a little when he talks about his new life. Surprisingly enough, he wites Halsworthās mother, who sends him care packages on Hannukah and Purim. And Daniel writes his parents, too, although those letters are always kept happy and brief so he doesnāt worry them.
The person he writes most, though, is Staff Sergeant Powell. Except Staff Sergeant Powell is now Master Sergeant Powell, freshly promoted. They talk like old friends and honestly, thatās what Daniel needs. He complains about his daughter, who has somehow made it into West Point. Daniel vaguely remembers what the girl looks like, blonde, pretty, and cocky, and canāt imagine her surviving West Point. Daniel doesnāt say that, though. He respects Richard far too much.
Every so often heāll write one of his lady friends. They arenāt romantic, at all, more like friends who are also dedicated to their civilian jobs and donāt have significant others. It fills the void, is what Daniel tells himself over and over again. After years, heās convinced himself he isnāt lying any more.
Heās grateful to be surrounded by men most of the time. When heās back at base thereās too much temptation. He knows some of his men fool around with other soldiers. Daniel looks the other way. He understands it far more than heās willing to admit. Some other men visit the local girls. Those people get stern lectures and even written up.
So heās writing as all of his men dress up, re-purposing things that are pretty much garbage to try to make costumes. Itās the silly, frivolous things that make it easier to get out of bed in the morning. Daniel doesnāt join them. Heās a captain, now, and he canāt be fraternizing with beer and who knows what else.
The Army is a good place to make a career. Daniel may not be white but heās a war hero. Heās a couple of years away from Major, if he wants it. Daniel isnāt sure heās ready to be tied to a desk just yet, though. He has a savings account and a brand new truck waiting for him when heās home in between tours. Daniel is a career soldier, and itās enough. Except some nights, it isnāt. Those nights are worse than combat. They drag on and thereās no end in sight.
Heās roughing it in a small little hamlet ten klicks from the DMZ line. He hasnāt had fresh water in two days, stuck with the awful taste of chlorine packets and dry bars. Itās his last month in the god forsaken country; his second tour is almost over and heās ready to be home for his grandmotherās birthday.
Heās covered in sand and mud and only God fuckinā knows what and heās tired. Heās so, so damn tired. By the time they get back to camp Danielās done. He doesnāt have any time for niceties with his men. He ducks and narrowly avoids running into a Major whose been hounding him about paperwork. It can wait.
After months without a hot shower Daniel lets out an honest to God moan when the stream hits his back. Dust and grime of the day stains the floor black for a couple of minutes as Daniel rinses himself clean. Itās a cathartic moment, and when Daniel gets out of the shower sleep tugs at his eyes.
Heās toweling off, his feet dragging over the cool tile, when he sees it out of the corner of his eye. Itās a neat little script, vaguely bubbly, right at the cut of his hip bone. Danielās fingers trace over the name, over and over again. When he wakes up in the morning, he lets out a yell.
Itās wrong. Itās a joke. Some joker came into his damn room and used permanent marker. Except its on his skin, for real, tattooed there. The ink looks neither fresh nor old. Thatās normal, of course. Daniel had read articles, watched documentaries on the phenomena. The tattoos never fade and theyāre impossible to remove.
So Danielās hands trace over Charlotte Powell over and over and over again, and he wonders who the hell he pissed off upstairs to be stuck with this nonsense. They loop up the āCā and dip down into the āWā and he sucks in a breath through his teeth, letting out an uncharacteristic āfuckā on the exhale.
He tells no one about the mark. He goes on like itās not there. Itās for the best. Richard writes him, about Charlie, and Daniel feels his stomach flutter. Her West Point graduation was coming up, and Daniel was glad he was stuck in Korea, for the first time in his life. Heās home for just three months -- The first week of September is spent with his mother and father -- before Captain Cox is shipped out for another tour.
This time itās Iraq. His mother weeps when she finds out and Daniel comforts her. The conflict is bad, he knows, but so was Afghanistan. It could be worse. He could have been sent in at the beginning of the conflict, where so many young men and women lost their lives. What they have now is managing the chaos, not trying to control it.
Something about going back to a desert just feels awful. The sand stings his eyes and he swears he sees Q and Halsworth out of the corner of his eye every so often. Itās his third tour, heās a pro by now, but the Iraqi desert is unsettling. Dan is on edge every single day, and he did not miss this feeling. Like heās on a cliff and the world is shaking under his boots, cracking and splintering.
The decree is passed while Daniel is out in the field. He comes back to commotion and ten televisions on different channels. The world blows up when women, who have been fighting on the front lines for years, are cleared for infantry. Danielās just happy at the idea of his squads being full again. There are five opening there hasnāt been funding to get filled, and Daniel could not care less what gender his new recruits are, as long as they know how to fight.
They arenāt even supposed to be in Iraq any more. The government has gone through itās upstarts and turmoil, and although itās still a fractured country, itās not supposed to be their problem any more, but the brass says he has another year and a half before heās allowed to come home. Daniel questions his decision for the first time. Iraq is so tumultuous. It drains his spirit. Thereās a desk waiting for him at the end of this tour, if he wants it. Danielās spent his entire life working for the military. he dedicated his life, his time, his freedom, and his future. He wonders, briefly, if it was the wrong choice. And then Daniel pulls himself up by his bootstraps, and he soldiers on. Itās what hes been trained to do his entire life, and it doesnāt stop for anything or anyone.
The first woman trainees successfully pass through field training. The class has a sixty percent success rate, which is higher than any other class in the last decade. Daniel received two letters that day. One is from Richard, talking about his imminent retirement. The other comes down from his Major, and it has three prominent names.
Donovan, Samantha. Old blood and an older name. Daniel didnāt know the Donovan girl had signed up for combat training, but he imagines her old man canāt he happy. Danielās never talked to him personally and he plans to keep it that way. Rich said to avoid him, so he did. The girl, though, Danielās heard nothing but good about her. That doesnāt mean sheās worth her weight, though, so Daniel will hold out judgement. This isnāt some bomb lab, itās Iraq. And that is a very, very big distinction.
Wright, Renee. An unfamiliar name. Daniel reads through her file, too. If Wright had stayed in Military Police, she could have been up for a promotion to Captain in August. Itās a curious move, and not necessarily the best one for her career. Wright is decorated more than some Sergeants that Daniel has seen. He looks forward to her leadership and experience.
Powell, Charlotte. No. Danielās stomach twists into knots and his mouth runs dry. No, this cannot be happening. No. He has a fitful rest that night. He dreams of her cocky smile, so faded in his memory that it may not even fit her face. He wonder for a moment if she knows and then scoffs. Of course, she knows. Of course she knows.
Daniel writes Richard that night. He contemplates telling him, telling somebody. Not even his parents know. But he doesnāt, because he canāt, and all he can do is wait for the choppers.
