Authors: Denise Kahn
BAGHDAD
CHAPTER 19
Somehow I always seem to get stuck with the fucking graveyard shifts. I don’t know if it’s just lack of sleep or fear, but at night hallucinations constantly happen before my eyes. It will be whispering or people moving toward me. I tell them to stop but they keep walking toward me. I’ll release the safety on my weapon and yell again, then they disappear. Marines will fly out of their sleeping bag and aim at the Iraqis that were never there. “What is it del Valle?” they’ll whisper. I’ll look through my night visions and see every Marine in the unit with their rifles in their shoulders. “It was nothing, I just thought there were a couple people approaching, that’s all.” They all gladly go back to sleep feeling safe. We are protectors of the lives of Marines, the last line of defense, but the hallucinations get to me. It’s like the boy who cried wolf. What if one night it really is the enemy and I think it is my drug warped mind playing tricks on me again? I cannot take that chance. I will challenge every time.
The Marines arrived in Baghdad after only two weeks. They were the first combatants to enter the capital. Although it was inevitable, no one had expected them to arrive that quickly. Not the military, not the politicians, and certainly not the inhabitants. Max drove the Humvee through the deserted streets. Where were the people? They wondered. And then slowly they started coming out. Just a few at a time, and then small groups. They welcomed the Americans. They were happy to see them and understood that for the first time they truly were free. They offered them local fruit, dates, figs, and apricots. In return the Marines gave them chocolate, water and most of all hope. Some of the Iraqi men went up to them and kissed them on the cheeks, and although the Americans were not accustomed to grown men kissing them they understood the sentiments and cherished the gesture.
Honey was in heaven. He was living history, in a land that had seen so many changes in the last centuries and even millennia. “This is the country of Gilgamesh.”
“Who the fuck is that? Jock said.
“It’s one of the ancient stories,” Honey answered.
“Like the 1001 nights,” Colin said.
“What 1001 nights?”
“Have you ever heard of Scheherazade, Jock-Strap?”
“No.”
“That’s one of my favorites. It’s about a beautiful girl,” Max said.
“Now you’re talking,” Jock said.
“Ali Baba and the forty thieves?” Honey asked.
“Sure,” Colin said, “and “Sinbad the Sailor.”
“Yes, I know that one, from Disney,” Jock said excitedly.
Max laughed. “Professor, you’re going to have to tell him that the original one started here, not in Orlando.”
“How about Aladdin?” Honey asked, exasperated.
“Yup, seen that one too.”
“Disney, right?”
“Uh, huh. So you know all these stories, Honey?”
“I do. And they’re all great.”
“Don’t forget to tell him about Rumi,” Max said.
“What’s roomy?”
“Not what, who. Mevlevi Celaleddin Rumi, the famous poet, religious and spiritual guide. He founded the Mevlevi Order of Dervishes in the middle of the thirteenth century. It continues until today.”
Jock stared blankly at him. “Well, I’m not sure what you guys are talking about but when you have kids, Honey, they’re gonna love their daddy’s bedtime stories.”
“Guys, shut up and pay attention. What’s going on over there?” The Gunny asked, pointing to a crowd gathered around a statue.
Honey saw a sign. “This is Firous Square,” he announced. “You know it means Paradise in Persian.”
“HONEY!” They all shouted.
“Okay, okay.”
They watched as an Iraqi man, one of the biggest men they had ever seen, of any nationality, swing an impressively huge sledge hammer at the base below an enormous statue of Saddam Hussein. He was as if in a trance, focused on the destruction of not only the physical construction, but the psychological one as well. The big man continued until he almost collapsed. Other men took over. They wanted to be in on this historical moment, to show the world what the dictator meant to them, what he had inflicted on his people. They took turns until their hands bled.
“A little C4 would do the trick very nicely,” Jock said.
“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? One boom and it’s gone. This way’s much more satisfying.”
“Not to mention the ego boost.”
The Iraqis did get help, in the form of an M-88 Hercules tank-tower and U.S. Marines who helped pull down the statue. It finally crumbled. It had taken three hours, but it was the sign of the end of an oppressive era and the beginning of a new one—one of freedom, one that the Americans presented them. The crowd screamed in delight, understanding for the first time the true meaning of liberty and hope. Max and his buddies smiled, comprehending that the duty they were performing had meaning, and that they were truly helping the people of a nation who had been under tyrannical rule for so long.
Another sight that the young men would find reprehensible was the looting. Everything was being stolen, nothing was sacred. The people had been oppressed and hopeless for so long that now they found the opportunity to take anything they wanted. It had started as survival but it quickly turned into a free for all. The military, as difficult as it was, was doing its best to keep things under control and the pillaging to a minimum. But the impact of what was happening to the country would be burned in their minds at the site of Saddam Hussein’s horse. The magnificent white stallion was running wild, scared out of its mind, his eyes bulging with incomprehension and fear, as men and boys chased him down the main avenues of Baghdad. They were trying to catch him, to do what with him was anybody’s guess, and Max firmly believed this was the most depressing sight he had ever seen.
At sunset they returned toward their camp. In the distance the orange sun slowly melted into the shimmering, infinite desert. Somewhere in the distance a Muezzin was calling the faithful to prayer.
“The guy’s got a nice voice,” Max said.
“What guy?” Colin asked.
“The one up there in the minaret.”
“Yeah, I heard him earlier, same tune, although it’s kind of nice waking up to music in the mornings.”
“At five o’clock, when the sun comes up?” Max asked.
“You have a point. Wouldn’t it be cool if he sang something different, maybe some modern hits? That could be a lot of fun.”
“Yeah, and imagine if everyone could join in, it would be like a concert five times a day. They could maybe pray first, then sing.”
“You know what would be even better?” Colin asked.
“What’s that?”
“A woman.”
“What do you mean?”
“If a woman sang the verses for a change, or even a duet with the Muezzin.”
“That would be exquisite, however, I’m sure the macho men would really go for that,” Max said sarcastically.
“Well, it was just a thought, but I’d still really love to hear a woman up in that minaret.”
“Hey, Haf, are we being blasphemous?” Max asked.
“Naw, we’re just being human. What the world needs is more music, and in this part of the world more female voices.”
“Sounds right.”
♫
NEW ORLEANS 2003
CHAPTER 20
“Hey Sam, what are you doing for Christmas?”
“Not much, just going to hang out here and relax from all the classes. Robert isn’t around so I’ll just take it easy.”
“That’s no fun. Why don’t you come to New Orleans and spend it with me and my family?”
“Oh, that is so nice of you, but...”
“Now, come on, you can’t be alone at Christmas. I know Robert can’t be here but my little brother, Tyrone, has a few days leave and will be in New Orleans. So, that’s final. You’re spending it with us. And I found cheap tickets.”
“Well, I guess it could be fun.”
“Of course, it will, and my Auntie is the best cook in Louisiana. Just wait ‘til you taste her Christmas
Reveillon
dinner.”
“Oh, well then I’d be delighted. I never could pass up good food, and a home cooked meal will undoubtedly be heaven on earth.”
“And it very well could be the last good meal we have for a while.”
As soon as Sam, Chantal and Tyrone arrived at the house on the outskirts of New Orleans, Aunt Clotilde, a heavy woman wearing a muumuu and an enormous smile, screamed in delight.
“You’re here! Praise Jesus! My babies are home!”
“Hi Aunt Clo, how’ve you been?” Chantal asked.
“Come here and give your auntie a hug, Sweet Pea,” the older woman said engulfing her niece to her bosom. Chantal all but disappeared in the embrace.
“Princesse Clotilde,”
Tyrone said in a French accent, and bowed deeply in front of his aunt, as elegantly as a musketeer. “How is the most beautiful lady in the land?”
“Come here you snake charmer! Sayin’ lies about your auntie again!”
“It’s true! You are the most beautiful!”
“Ah, alright, keep the old lady happy,” she laughed as she in turn engulfed Tyrone.
“But, Auntie, its true.”
“Alright, alright, now introduce me to your friend.”
“This is Sam, my roommate and wonderful friend,” Chantal said.
“Very pleased to meet you,” Sam said, extending her hand to Clotilde.
“Come here, child, and give me a hug. That’s how we do it down here. We’re all one big happy family.”
“Yes, Ma’am. And Tyrone is right. I now see where Chantal gets her beautiful looks.”
“You know, children, I like this girl already.”
Sam had traveled around the world with her parents, and tasted foods from many famous restaurants and chefs, but she never expected Aunt Clo’s amazing Reveillon dinner. It eclipsed everything she had ever tried.
The first course she called ‘Christmas lettuce’. It consisted of a red lettuce in a large platter that looked like the head of an enormous red rose which she kept whole. Interspersed between the leaves Aunt Clo had inserted arugula and cherry tomatoes, as well as chestnuts she had boiled and then marinated in warm bourbon.
“Oh, Aunt Clo, this is a work of art!” Sam exclaimed.
“One eats with the eyes first.”
The next course was a cauliflower covered with a Dijon mustard vinaigrette. At the bottom shrimp were lined up like little soldiers guarding the base of the cruciferous vegetable. She poured hot oil over the top, making a golden crust. Aunt Clotilde continued the feast with herb crusted pork chops decorated with potato, avocado and zucchini all mashed together and shaped into round, fried croquettes. A bouquet of cilantro made the mouthwatering dish charming. Her dessert did not disappoint either. Chocolate hazelnut filled beignets covered with powdered sugar; accompanied by home-made vanilla ice cream and covered with flambéed Cognac.
“Your Reveillon dinner, Aunt Clo, was absolutely exquisite and better than anything I’ve eaten anywhere.”
“I gather you enjoyed it then.”
“No question about it. You should open a restaurant, you would put everybody out of business!”
“I don’t want to put anybody out of business, besides, here in New Orleans there’s always room for more restaurants. This is an eatin’ city. I have thought about it, and it’s been a dream of mine for many years, but circumstances like Katrina and lack of funds haven’t always made things easy.
“Like taking us in,” Chantal said.
“Being together made it all worthwhile.”
“Well, you know I’m going to be a doctor, and everybody knows that they make money, so at the first opportunity I’m going to buy you a restaurant.”
“Now don’t you worry you’re pretty little head, you just concentrate on your school.”
“Anything you say, Auntie Clo, but just you wait, and someday I might surprise you.”
Aunt Clotilde took off and went to her favorite room—the kitchen. She was already concocting the next meal for the family. The three younger people stayed in the living room.
“Tyrone, when are you headed back to your base?” Chantal asked.
“In two days.”
Tyrone’s wish after the harrowing helicopter ride from the rooftop after hurricane Katrina had manifested. He had enlisted in the Air Force and gotten his wish. He became a pilot with a helicopter squadron.
“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Chantal said.
“Oh, oh, this could be dangerous,” Tyrone said jokingly.
“Naw, seriously.”
“Okay, I’ll rephrase that: What’s that brilliant mind up to now?”
“Much better, Ty. Well, here it is. Sam and I have decided to join the fight.”
“What does that mean?” Tyrone asked.
“As combat nurses.”
“No way!” Tyrone exclaimed. “Absolutely no way. I won’t let you,” Tyrone said, puffing his chest out like a lion ready to pounce.
“Because you think it’s too dangerous?”
“Exactly. Besides, you need some sort of degree.”
“Both Sam and I do. We’ve got our associates nursing degree plus a couple more years of med school so the Army accepted us, and the university supports us.”
“What does that mean?”
“That means that they will let us join and we can go back to school whenever we finish our military service.”
“They’ll do that?”
“Yup, extenuating circumstances.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Come on, Ty, you’re helping, why can’t we?”
“It’s different.”
“You mean girls shouldn’t fight?”
“No. I mean… well, yeah. And I don’t want to see you hurt… or worse.”
“Well, we’re not really going to fight, Tyrone,” Sam chirped in. “We’re going to do our part to save lives.”
“Yeah, and not to mention the incredible medical knowledge we’ll acquire.”
“That may be, Sis, but it’s still dangerous as hell.”
“We’ll be at a hospital base, away from the fighting.”
“Says who?”
“Where else would they put us?”
“Oh, Chantal, really! I just can’t let you do it.”
“And you’re going to stop me?” Chantal asked.
“That’s right.”
“Now, you listen to me lil’ brother. I’m going to do exactly what I think is best, and if you try to stop me I’ll put you over my knee and spank you.”
“Chantal, for Heaven’s sake, I may be your little brother but I’m twice as big as you are.”
Sam, you hadn’t said more than a few words and was listening to the brother and sister, started giggling.
“What’s so funny, Sam?” Chantal asked.
“He’s right, you know, he’s a big boy. Actually he’s quite a man.”
“See?” Tyrone said.
“Yeah, yeah, okay. But in all seriousness, Sam and I have talked it over and we’re going to do it. They need us, Tyrone. You can understand that. Besides, we’ll be at a hospital.”
“Yeah, a military hospital, in a war zone!”
“We could be on a hospital ship,” Sam said.
“And if we’re in a war zone, it’ll be the most protected place in the country.”
Tyrone stared at the women. “You’ve made up your minds, haven’t you?”
They nodded, confirming his question. “Ty, we’ve enlisted.”
Tyrone let his head fall into his hands, waited a few moments, then went to the girls who were sitting on the sofa and hugged them. “Don’t you let anything happen, or I’ll personally come and spank both of you.” He hugged them even tighter.
♫