"Well, sir, I think relaxing and decompressing look different to everyone. Most of my guys are gonna go home after this and spend time with their loved ones, or binge watch the tv shows they've missed over the past year, and that's what they need to do. It's what they deserve to do after all this."
As we keep trudging forward I can see a handful of young boys kicking a soccer ball in bare feet. One of the boys points to my platoon and picks the ball up, tucking it under his arm. His friends stop and watch as we approach, cupping their hands over their eyes like makeshift sunglasses.
"To me, there's nothing more peaceful than when I watch the sunset as I drive over the horizon on my bike. The calm that washes over me, well, no amount of Netflix can give me that. It's just who I am, I guess." I shrug.
Cooper looks satisfied with himself. Maybe I gave him some good footage, I don't know. His focus turns to the village a few yards away and his camera man adjusts his shot accordingly.
The boys suddenly run back toward the houses and elderly village men shuffle out to greet us in their place.
"Willoby! Move up!" I yell over my shoulder. "Company, halt!" The forty pairs of boots crack to a stop like a clap of thunder. Willoby is by my side, ready to translate for me as I disengage from the platoon to make introductions.
Stepping forward, with my arm extended, I try to look friendly and relax my face as my eyes scan the village behind them. A large group of children are running around, excited by our presence. The ladies are huddled together by a wash basin, whispering to each other and eyeing us suspiciously.
I shake the hand of the man in front, noting his long white beard and deep wrinkles before my eyes settle on his. Willoby introduces me and the elder welcomes us to Gumbad. It's the same routine we've been doing all day. It's the same for every Shura. Right out of the manual and PowerPoint presentations we're given. Just like everything in the military, there's protocol to follow.
I give the command to move my company forward and we make our way closer to the huts. The children run around my men like they're trying to herd them together, circling them excitedly. After posting four men as lookouts, we sit together on the ground. We take off our helmets, laying them in front of our crossed legs, and lay our rifles down as a show of good faith. Again, protocol. Regulations. Orders. There's a disciplined and planned way to do everything in the army.
Cooper sits in the dirt next to me, he stays quiet as Willoby chats with the elders. His camera crew focus on the talk, I can't imagine they'll use much of this footage. It can't be very interesting tv to watch a translator and old man make small talk in another language.
My eyes wander over to the women and children standing off to our left. The women whisper to each other, looking over at us nervously. This isn't new. Having a group of armed men around them and their kids would be enough to make any mother anxious.
"Can you ask him how old he is? And how many wars he's lived through?" Cooper asks my translator.
As he asks the questions, I notice the women begin to gather the children into a group as they move them away from us. My head snaps as I quickly look around us. Suddenly, the village is deserted except for the men sitting with us. Checking back on the group of women, they have picked up the pace, scurrying now to put distance between them and us.
The boy who held the soccer ball under his arm as we approached looks back at us as one of the women yanks his arm. My gut twists and the blood rushes in my ears as I jump to my feet. "Troops! Grab your weapons!"
The words barely escape my lips when one of the village men jumps up, pulling an ax from under his robe and runs at Corporal Thompson. I snatch up my gun and hastily snap on my helmet as I watch the man raise his arm and split Thompson’s head open with a thud. The sound of the ax sinking into my young Corporal’s brain sounds too faint to be real. Too far off, and too quiet to account for all the blood pouring out of the young Corporal and into the dirt.
"Shit!" I pull my gun into my shoulder and squeeze the trigger, dropping the man.
BOOM! Dirt explodes into a mushroom cloud around us. Fuck! Did someone set off a bomb? Was that an IED? Christ. I can barely make out the silhouettes of my men scrambling to position. Shots are being fired in the dusty haze.
My eyes finally adjust to the filth falling from the sky and focus on Cooper Sanders. He's just standing, staring into the chaos as gunfire explodes around him. Damn it! He's not even wearing his fucking helmet! What the hell is he doing? Suddenly a green egg drops to his feet, he doesn't move, he’s still just staring. Like he's waiting for a little birdie to pop out instead of being frozen to the spot as a grenade is about to blast at his feet.