They fell in a heap on the floor with Erin’s grip so solid they were sure to turn into a single person. Caleb’s masculine frame trembled, and his arms closed around Erin’s waist. He cried on her shoulder, boldly releasing all his pent-up sorrow. Erin mourned with him and thoughts of what he experienced flip through her mind. She shut her eyes tight as he freed his spirit. It almost crippled Erin. Never before had she seen him this way and it cut through her soul and made her feel resentful of everything she’d said.

He’d killed his partner, how horrible that must’ve been for him. Erin didn’t know the details, but regardless, it made her heartbreak feel insignificant. When Caleb said he was in a dark place, she never imagined it would derive from this type of situation. And his partner. Their family was more than likely crushed when they received the news. What if he had a wife, a child? He was someone’s son, and possibly someone’s future that they would never have because of what happened. Erin’s heart thundered right along with Caleb’s, and for the better part of an hour, they lay there holding each other without words.

Caleb’s tears dried but neither of them found the sentiments to express what they felt. Erin gave him time; however, much was needed for him to regroup and explain what he meant. When Caleb finally moved, it was to roll from his side to his back. He stared up at Erin’s tray ceilings, then with a tug he pulled Erin to his chest and she braced her arms against the solid wall of his torso as she stared down into his tear stained face.

“His name was Timothy Moore.” He paused. “We entered basic training at the same time. He was from Colorado and we were strangers. But there’s a connection that bonds you instantly when you’re serving in the military.” Caleb cleared his throat. “Shortly after we met, I found out his reason for enlisting which was like my own.”

“Because of his father?”

Caleb’s gaze left the ceiling and traveled to Erin’s. “Because he wanted to make his father proud. Being the single heir in his family, he wanted to be a star in his dad’s eyes. It’s like a prized possession.”

Somehow, Erin knew Caleb was not only speaking in terms of Timothy but also about his own situation.

“Timothy’s father had also served.”

“Just like yours,” Erin said.

Caleb nodded.

“But you said you never wanted to be like your father. Growing up, I saw how demanding he was; much like a drill sergeant. You hated him.”

“I hated what he’d become,” Caleb said. “But there were times when we hung out and I witnessed the person I knew him to be. So, I felt like all was not lost. Those times gave me hope. They also made me want to make him proud to call me his son.” Caleb paused. “Erin,” his hands moved to hers that resided against his chest. He linked their fingers and looked her in the eye as he spoke next.

“I’m sorry. I know saying that doesn’t take away the pain I’ve caused you, and you’ll never know how much I regret that. But one thing I found out, not just from being in the military but also from growing as a man is spousal communication is important. If I had to do this over, I would've pulled you to the side and talked to you about my plans. I was just so afraid to lose you, and in the end that’s what happened anyway.” He pulled in a deep breath as Erin pulled in one of her own.

Erin’s emotional state of mind was overwhelmed at the moment, and she couldn’t think straight with everything Caleb was throwing at her.

“Caleb, I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything. Let me finish telling you my story. It’s important that you know so you’ll have some understanding of my frame of mind.” Erin nodded once.

“We were a brigade of over 2300 men, broken down into 230 squad units. Timothy and I were in the same squad; ironically put together as partners. I’d met his grandmother via Skype on quick short calls. I’d also met his wife, she…” he paused. Erin’s heartbeat raced as she inwardly mourned for Timothy’s wife. “She’d just had his twins. Baby girls.” Caleb’s gaze traveled back to the ceiling and glazed over with fresh tears. Erin laid her head between the nook of his arm and chest to listen as he told his story. “The eight others in our squad were, Frank Reynolds, James Milton, Tony Fisher, Roy McCoy, Nicolas Benjamin, Cody Drayton, Luke Scutter, and Simon West. Not including Staff Sergeant Hopkins. We were stationed in Iraq. For three years we went on covert missions.” Caleb became quiet and Erin held her breath.

“Sometimes the missions would go smoothly. I never released a sigh of relief until our squad made it back to base in one piece. We would always party afterward. And by party, I mean stay up past bedtime and sneak and eat extra MRE’s.”

“What is that?”

“Meals ready to eat.”

“Sounds like a microwavable dinner.”

Caleb’s hand inadvertently caressed Erin’s shoulder, rubbing it up and down. “Something like that,” he said.

“There were other times when a mission didn’t go as planned. When the first sign of the enemy was revealed, I’d always have the thought that this might be the day I die.”

Erin stiffened next to him and her fingers clutched his shirt. Caleb glanced down at her.

“Chill on the Freddy Kruger grip,” he teased.

Erin landed a tap on his chest. “That’s not funny.”

He straightened the smirk from his face and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, you’re right. Nothing about what I’m about to tell you is funny.”

“On the days we were met with resistance, bullets flew over my head and past my ass; almost like the sound of a buzzing bee. Fortunately, when any of our squad was injured, it was minor- leg, or arm injuries.” Caleb became quiet again as if searching for the words to explain this fatal day. “One afternoon, we were sent out. It was a classified mission, so I can’t give you specifics.”

Erin nodded in understanding. “It’s okay,” she said.

“Our convoy was a single march unit that consisted of three trucks and one tail. The tail was our med unit in the case any injuries were sustained. We were on our way to a FOB,” Caleb paused and explained. “A forward operating base. It’s a secured military operations center.” Erin nodded. “Anyway, we were going to get bridge parts for an upcoming mission. Because there were eight of us and three trucks, we were separated in threes except for the one vehicle. Frank Reynolds was the driver and we needed at least another man riding shotgun.”

“Wait, I thought there were ten of you including you and Timothy?”

“There were, but the others were a part of the med unit that was tailing us.”

“Oh.”

“No one liked to ride with Frank because he was always passing gas.”

Erin turned her nose up. “Are you kidding me?”

Caleb smiled lightly. “I wish I were, but not even Frank’s partner wanted to ride with him.”

Erin laughed softly. “That’s just disgusting.”

“Frank thought it was the funniest thing ever, and so did other’s when they weren’t directly in his path or caught in a hot box with him, like the convoy vehicle.”

“I guess not,” Erin said dryly.

Caleb’s expression turned serious again, and as he talked this time, his focus remained on the ceiling.

“It was my turn to ride with Frank, but much like others, I was hell-bent on getting out of it. I told Tim if he’d take my spot I’d give him my MRE.”

Tim laughed so hard he fell over. Once his laughter subsided he made a deal with me. I’d have to ride with Frank on the way to the FOB and Tim would ride back. ‘There’s no way I’m taking on a roundtrip with Frank,’ Timothy said. And of course, I still had to give him my MRE.”

“Frank must’ve had some bad gas,” Erin pointed out.

“Nuclear,” Caleb added.

“The ride over to the FOB was smooth, except for the mountain of farts Frank wielded on me.”

“Ewww,” Erin moaned.

“But on our way back…”

Caleb’s gaze clouded over again as he was transported back to the moment in time.

October 2015

Baghdad, Iraq

36^th Squad Unit

0900 Hours

Tan combat boots hit the ground and dust particles flew into the air. “Damn you smell like a piece of shit, Reynolds!” Caleb said slamming the door to the armored truck.

Frank Reynolds jumped out of the driver’s side, with his AR-15 strapped to his ACU jacket.

“Oh, don’t be such a pussy, Malone,” Frank guffawed as he rounded the vehicle.

“Fuck you, Reynolds.”

Frank howled, doubling over in laughter. The 36^th squad unit convoy moved through the barbed fencing past the control point. They gathered around each other, then parked and moved into the FOB to get the pieces they were sent for. The mission didn’t take longer than thirty minutes. The commander was set up and ready for the squad to carry out its needed material. It was when Timothy attempted to slide back into the truck with Tony Fisher and Roy McCoy did Caleb call him out on it.

“I don’t think so Moore, we had a deal.”

Timothy paused his sneak attempt, taking his hand off the armored door.

“Shit,” Timothy cursed.

Caleb strolled up to his partner. “I wouldn’t worry too much,” Caleb said, “he may have gotten all of that shit out on the way over.”

The other guys in the squad laughed but Timothy grimaced.

“Come on fellas, don’t be like that. Let me get this straight, you’re over here risking your lives every second of the day and you can’t stand to smell a little gas?”

Every single one of them began to groan and fuss.

“The shit that comes out of you is not a little gas. You could bottle that shit up and sell it as a secret weapon that would wipe out villages,” Nicolas Benjamin said.

“This is fun guy’s, but we have to get back to it. Stay on schedule,” Staff Sergeant Hopkin’s said.

Caleb slapped Timothy on his back. “Thank you, partner,” he said, jumping into the back of the Truck with Tony and Roy.

“Damn it,” Timothy said again. He strolled to the vehicle and got inside unhurriedly as the rest of the guys continued to laugh.

The gates to the FOB opened and the convoy moved down the dirt roads with Frank and Timothy leading. The hot dry weather was invasive, and as they rode, the men all watched their surroundings while draining water from canteen bottles. A magnanimous sound vibrated from Frank and Timothy was immediately hit with the odor.

“Aw, son of a bitch!” Timothy cursed.

Frank laughed and shook his head. “You didn’t really think I wouldn’t save a little for you, did ya?”

“You’re really an SOB you know that Reynolds!”

Frank shrugged. “I love you too, asshole,” he said continuing to laugh.

Timothy took a chance and rolled down the window. Thick waves of heated air seeped in and he took in a much-needed breath of air.

“Roll that window up, soldier,” Frank’s stern voice commanded. “What are you trying to do? Make us easy targets?”

“You are the one making us easy targets. I’d much rather take my chances taking in some fresh air then suffer through the sewage in your ass.”

Frank couldn’t help but laugh. It really gave him a good chuckle to mess with his comrades that way. Taking his eyes away from Timothy, Frank glanced at the road before them.

“Heads up,” he said, “we’re riding back through this neighborhood.”

In the truck behind them, Roy, Tony, and Caleb all guffawed. They watched as Timothy let down the window and they knew instantly that Frank was at it again.

“I feel bad for that poor bastard,” Roy said.

“I don’t,” Tony replied. “It’s his own greedy ass fault. Who volunteers to ride with Frank? I wouldn’t care if the prize was a gold bar itself.” Tony shook his head, “No way in hell.”

“Bullshit,” Roy retorted. “If someone offered me a gold bar, I’d be a gas smelling SOB.”

The men laughed just as they entered the same neighborhood they’d traveled through on the way to the FOB. Caleb checked the time. “Forty-five minutes,” he said, giving the time in which they’d make it back to base.

They rode over a sand dune then down the dusty streets of the area. A child ran out in the street, no older than about seven years of age.

“Whoa,” Roy said.

The convoy paused, and the soldiers watched the area. In Iraq, what appeared to be an innocent situation could be a setup. Children of all ages were sometimes equipped with bombs or guns. Caleb kept a close eye on the kid in front of Frank and Timothy’s truck. The little boy pointed at the convoy then spoke in Arabic. He reached inside of the linen pocket of his shirt. The soldiers reacted, opening their doors taking aim at the child.

In his hand was a piece of paper, about the size of the palm of his hand.

“Get off the road!” Frank shouted.

The little boy looked around from each of their faces then took a few steps back but holding his position on the side of the dirt passage. The soldiers reclaimed their positions and the convoy continued its journey back to base. As they rode, the truck was silent. All three of them, Roy, Tony, and Caleb sat in deep thought. Something didn’t feel right, and Caleb’s gut churned as he kept his eyes on everything. The soldiers in the first cab snagged Caleb’s attention when Timothy shoved Frank into the door. Timothy turned and rolled down his window just as Caleb caught the shape of a black object seconds from the truck’s wheels.

At supersonic speed, Caleb reached for the radio.

“Possible IED, Frank watch your rig—”

An explosion was detonated on Timothy’s side of the truck. It shot his side of the cab in the air, flipping the vehicle on the driver’s side in a detrimental crush.

“Nooo!” Caleb screamed. He jumped out of their cab with the rest of squad 36 behind him. “Noo!” Caleb screamed again.

“Malone!” Staff Sergeant Hopkins called. “Get into position!”

The soldiers moved in formation, checking their rear, sides, and front. Staff Sergeant Hopkins grabbed Caleb. He was screaming at him about something, but Caleb’s hearing had gone out. The only thing he could comprehend was the explosion and the fire inside Frank’s cab. The soldiers in the med unit ran past Caleb and he wrestled to get away from the Staff Sergeant. But Staff Sergeant Hopkin’s held on with a fierce grip. There was nothing any of them could do. Frank and Timothy were no longer with them.