Freedom of Love (Letter From Home #2)(5)
Coming off the twenty-four-hour shift, I wandered back to my tent, the pre-dawn sky just beginning to lighten. The cold wind cut through me as I burrowed deeper into my jacket. Rubbing my face, I felt the whisker scruff but put off detouring to the showers, the need for sleep overpowering the need to be clean. Walking along the main path, I passed tent after tent, all alike in their dusty tan color with piles of sandbags at the front. The bland surroundings only served to hasten my footsteps as war fatigue pulled at my body.
Finally arriving at the tent I share with eleven other MEDEVAC medics, I made my way to my bed, sitting to pull off my Moon Dust covered boots. The sand-colored dust covered the entire camp, settling on our boots, our uniforms, and when the wind kicked it up, settling it on everything we owned. Another reason I’d be glad for my tour to be over.
Jerking the blanket down, I pulled it back over me once I had flopped onto my bed. It was a large tent and I was thankful we each had a bed that wasn’t bunked. Six metal framed beds with real mattresses lined each wall with a center path through the middle. Tall lockers stood between the beds and we each had a trunk at the foot of our beds. There was even room for a couple of card tables and chairs in the middle as well.
I was on my second tour in Afghanistan as a combat medic…long hours and sometimes more gore than I ever thought to see. There was a time when I was unable to sleep right after a shift, particularly if it had been a bad one, but now? I was learning how to compartmentalize everything and when I entered the tent, I was ready to crash.
I barely heard a few of my squad members returning as well, the smell of soap and shampoo wafting over offering evidence that at least some of them hit the showers before coming in to sack out. The last thought I had before falling asleep was that I hoped the water was still hot when I finally managed to get there.
My day off started with a pick-up game of basketball with a few of us who were not on duty today. It was cold but I soon ditched my coat, playing in just my ARMY sweatshirt and ACU pants. Ready for lunch, we headed to the Dining Facility (DFAC), glad for the warmth of the tent as well as the chance to chow down on some hamburgers and french-fries. Sitting at the long tables, our conversation revolved around a discussion of which fast-food restaurant had the best burgers back home. Grinning, I listened to the younger men as they debated the subject as though debating the meaning of life. Shaking my head, I finished my lunch and stood to toss my trash.
After lunch, a movie was playing in the DFAC, offered by Morale, Welfare, and Recreation, but declining I detoured into the MWR’s regular tent to grab a book. Their facility contained a library, computers, pool tables, and games. They gave out whatever they could to keep up morale. The Army tried to make us forget we were fighting a war on the other side of the world, but there was only so much they could do.
The MWR tried to get new books in as often as possible, but I had read most of them. I played sports to stay in shape, but my first love on a day off was getting my hands on a good book. Smirking, I remembered as a kid, no one picked on me for being a book nerd…not at my size. I was bigger than most of the other boys, so that kept any bullying at bay. Now? Hell, us soldiers looked for anything to take our minds off what was going on in this war, so a good book was the perfect solution.
I stepped through the door, the warmth of the MWR a welcome relief to the freezing temperatures outside. The large tent held comfortable chairs facing a large screen TV in the middle with computer stations lining one wall. To the right sat two pool tables and two ping-pong ball tables. A section near the back held phones in small wooden cubicles. A large connecting tent held gym equipment, weight benches, free weights, and treadmills.
I waved to one of the workers, who had become a familiar face in the last three months since I’d been back in this country. Moving toward the side where the makeshift library was located, I noticed another worker unpacking a large box filled with paperbacks. For a reader like myself, it was a huge gift. Drawn to the table, I peeked in the box as the MWR worker was taking the books out. They had been packed well and each book, while used, appeared to be in good condition. Even the smell of the printed paper was a welcome treat, reminding me of the old library in my hometown when I was a child.
“Hey, Sergeant Molina,” he greeted. “I figured you’d be in here first to grab some of these.”
Grinning, I replied, “Just like a late Christmas present.” Scanning the titles as he placed them on the table, I ran my fingers over the spines of some of the books, loving the feel of the paper. No e-reader for me…I wanted to hold the printed books in my hands as I read. Snagging a few of the longer mysteries, I turned toward the MWR worker. “Mind if I go ahead and take these?”
“Nah, go ahead. Just write the titles down on one of the cards on my desk and you can take them now.”
Jotting the information down as instructed, I waved as I pulled the collar up on my jacket before heading back to my tent. I had the rest of my day off to enjoy some new stories. As I entered my tent again, I nodded at the few squad members lounging inside. The bitter cold had chased most of us indoors, the winter Afghanistan wind making everyone hustle to get from building to building.
“Got more books?” Todd called out, glancing up from the card game he and three others were playing.
“They just got a new box in,” I replied, gaining their attention.
“Did you get the mysteries?” Chuck asked.