Eros Army

On any base stateside, a range would mean a designated stretch of government property where it was safe for munitions to go off under proper conditions. Here it meant a patch of sand that wasn't likely to have anybody's camels trekking across it that day. A HEAT round (high explosive anti-tank) was said could turn one of those fuckers from livestock to an aerosolized strawberry milkshake before your very eyes; not that I'd know firsthand, of course.

A soldier out of the fueler in front of us got out and tapped on the glass, interrupting my daydream. I was genuinely so lost fanaticizing about when or if I might be able to slip Michelle the old crimson headed bishop again, it startled me. Snapping out of my trance, I dropped the window to greet my intruder.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Hard dicks and helicopters," he retorted. "... and I ain't going down on either."

"Good one," I chuckled.

"What's wrong with your female?" He said, motioning toward Chun. "Does she ever laugh?" He teased. "Might be due to turn in at third shop and get her serviced."

I looked to see if she was paying attention, but she was still staring out the windshield. I presumed she was just determined to keep her whole cold shoulder routine going. All morning my partner, who was incurably chatty, only spoke to me when necessary, and only work stuff.

"Yeah, guess I'm in the doghouse again." I jested, hoping it might at least pipe up out of dissent.

In a hushed tone, he suggested, "Why don't you two just fuck and get it over with."

The look I gave him back, must have conveyed how badly I resented his crass remark. He recoiled some and shot back a condescending smirk. For the most part, that's how soldiers talked to each other, so I probably shouldn't have been all judgmental, but I felt I had to take up for my partner and best friend.

Oh, don't get me wrong, I didn't mind the idea; it was just him saying it in front of her. Oddly, we had heard that phrase almost verbatim several times before, but usually it was somebody we worked with. People would see us together all the time and just assume we were a thing and would be somewhat baffled when they found out otherwise. This was the first time a stranger had made the inference.

Abandoning his shitty attempt at small talk, he straightened up and stated his business. "Yeah, anyway," he muttered. "Top wanted the fuel truck in back of the column. Pull around and I'll wave everybody else past as well." He explained. "We'll be moving out in a minute."

The prospect of being given the go ahead for vehicles to move was a welcome relief. Once we got rolling, at least the monotonous task of driving would distract me from the agonizing silent treatment my partner was giving me. She had been just sitting there for hours, staring out the window while we waited for our marching orders.

To be fair, it was only sort-of my fault she was pissed at me. About a week before we'd been on a similar mission together. There was a rare thunderstorm the night before we filed out of the training area enroute back to Camp Doha. Per usual, she didn't care to drive, but I never minded.

In fact, with the driving conditions, I had a blast. I was hitting every puddle I could find, trying to get the ambulance to fishtail and slinging wet sand all over the place. Only problem, and something I didn't find out until later, was that it was day one of Chun's period, and she wasn't exactly amused by my shenanigans. She had been in a mood all that day, I noticed, but when I sloshed through the first giant patch of water, sending rooster tails high up the sides of the truck, she laid into me.

"Stop it, Nunan," she ordered. "You're making a mess and some of it got on me."

"Look around. This whole country is a mess. Besides, we can shower as soon as we get back to camp." I argued before turning a corner on silty ground, slinging the back tires around.

"Seriously, knock it off!" She wailed.

"Fine, you big titty baby." I said, teasing.

For a little while after that I did toe the line. The other guys in the convoy were horsing around too, though. I was feeling left out. There was no way that whiney little bitch was going to ruin my good time.

Hitting a shallow wadi, the front tires dipped and then popped back up abruptly, followed by the back ones. I had to cut the wheel sharp to keep on the trail, and a huge splash of sandy muck drenched her side of the Humvee. With her window still open, she took a healthy dose of 'fuck you and your aunt flow' right in the face.

"Damnit, Nunan," she screamed. "Quit it. I'm all fucking wet now."

"Maybe you ought to put your window up." I said with a snicker.

I don't think I've ever seen an Asian woman turn red with ire before. She did, though. She was so hacked she couldn't even look at me anymore. Crawling through the bulkhead door she went to sulk in the patient compartment for the rest of the drive.

Normally, I wasn't the type to intentionally irritate someone, especially a female. Particularly considering how smoking hot she was, you'd think I'd have worked hard to stay on her good side. Ever how miffed she might have been, I knew eventually she'd have to come around. We'd been besties and pretty much joined at the hip since she first got assigned to my unit. She couldn't stay mad forever.

On paper we shouldn't have made the compatibility cut. Her, being a bay area valley chick who dug hip-hop, she wasn't the normal southern belle I'd grown used to. I hailed from a farm town in the Southeast, myself and was a student of country, heavy metal, alternative and pretty much any music she didn't care for. We weren't exactly a match made in heaven.

Hard to explain. It was one of those circumstances, where we always seemed to end up at the same place at the same time. We both lived in the barracks, both in ambulance platoon and were at similar points in our respective careers. Plus, there was the fact that I had a car, and she didn't.

Whenever there was a training thing or class we had to attend, or shit, even just going to work, she rode shotgun. After a while, I guess we simply evolved together. I imagined that's how arranged marriages worked. Impelled to spend time together, you figure out how to make the best of it and things grow from that.

It's not that I never entertained the idea of being romantic with Chun. Opportunity just never seemed to be on my side. When she first arrived at our unit and I got a look at her, I was smitten.

Chi-panese, is the word she used to describe her heritage. Chinese on her dad's side and her mother was first generation Japanese. Never have I been known to have, what you'd call a type, I guess. If I did, the Asian persuasion never seemed to crank my tractor. It's just that she was so striking. Almond shaped eyes and almost tawny complexion framed by this straight, ink-black hair gave her the most exotic semblance.

Standing five foot even in boots, she was like a ton of dynamite in a pint-sized package. Her thick, muscular legs from being a varsity soccer player were only rivaled by her round, firm ass as her most remarkable feature. While I fancied myself a titty man, I did admire her barely a handful sized dunes as they eloquently matched her mostly petite frame.

Unfortunately, Stokes had gotten a look at her about the same time I did. He was notoriously obsessed with Far Eastern females in all varieties. Noticing I was just as taken by her as he was, he gave a gesture. It was discrete, but clearly communicated the question, 'you got dibs on that? Though, I was interested, it's not like I was starved for affection. Stokes had just come out of a long relationship with a local of Pilipino descent and didn't have any prospects with a similar ancestry. Hence, I abdicated, though reluctantly.

That started a three-month affair between them. With Chun and I spending so much time together and nookie off the table per bro code; I found myself grudgingly wearing the 'just friends' label indefinitely. Though it sucked dreadfully, being joined at the hip by this extraordinarily sexy thing, I figured it was for the best. Certain circumstances (mostly for which I could only blame myself) dictated that I wasn't relationship material.

I took solace in the fact that Michelle was mostly keeping me pacified. With her, I had a spigot with hot and cold running intercourse on tap; no strings attached. Funny how guys tended not to miss love and romance when the sex department was fully stocked.

Stokes basically ghosted Chun her after getting out of the Army. After that, she had been involved with some creep who strung her along for a few more months. Most recently, she had been dating a tanker out of 1/66 (first battalion of sixty sixth armor regiment.)

This guy was a regular Captain America. Corporal Steve Scott was his title, Scotty to his tanker buddies. He was an E-4, same as me, but made his rank in half the time. Already named our division's soldier of the quarter, he was set to contend for soldier of the year once this deployment was up. Most importantly, he was, best I could tell, a good guy and things looked like they could get serious between them.

I was happy for her; really, I was. The thing was, I couldn't help wondering what could have been. We were up each other's' asses all the time, and I put up with all her drama. Be it boyfriend troubles, family issues, work, you name it. It was becoming torturous putting this kind of quality time in without a chance at some kind of payoff. Once, out of sheer frustration, I asked her frankly if we potentially had a chance at being more than friends.

"When I first met you, I thought you were a hottie." She admitted. "I would have definitely dated you."

"Really?" I gasped. Feeling brave, I pressed, "...and now?"

"Now? I don't know. It's like," she explained. "You're more like a brother to me now."

"Goddamnit!" I thought. If friend zone was a dead end, sibling sector had to be udder demise. I dropped the subject after that. Feeling doomed to purgatory, I gave up any hope of getting naked with my Pacific Coast princess.

* * * * * *

Maybe an hour, hour and a half into our drive to the training area, I'd had enough of Chun's attitude. She hardly said a thing all morning. In fact, we hadn't really talked at all since my little off roading adventure a week back.

"Fuck's sake, Lucy. You gotta snap out of it." I bemoaned.

"Wah, what?" she muttered, finally looking my direction.

"We've got a long drive ahead of us and we'll at least be in the field overnight." I pointed out. "Are you going to pout the whole time. I tried to apologize for last time, but you weren't hearing it. You've got to cut me some slack, sis."

"What, that?" she exclaimed. "It ain't that. Shit, I guess we haven't talked in a while."

"Well, yeah! That's what I mean; this silent treatment BS. How long do you plan on raking me over the coals?"

"Serious, I'm not mad." She declared. "...not at you anyway. I've just been in my own head lately. Ugh, I guess I owe you an apology. I was PMS-ing crazy bad that day. Sorry you got in the crossfire."

"What do you mean? Who are you mad at?" I asked.

"Oh, it's Steve. We got into a tissy about some stupid stuff."

"Trouble in paradise? What in the world could you be two fighting about?" I implored.

"I don't know. It wasn't exactly a fight. He just brought up some heavy shit, and I... ...I just don't know." She said, seeming unsure if she wanted to divulge her feelings just yet. "He's all, 'we should start looking at apartments and shit.'"

"Well, that doesn't sound so heavy." I teased. "Maybe he really likes you and wants to spend more time with you. ...oh, wait." Badgering her further, I gasped and put my hand over my mouth. "I spend a lot of time with you. Oh, my God, I should warn him what a mistake he is making."

"Ass!" she blurted back, flinging a mostly empty water bottle at me. "Really, though, he was all excited 'cause his commander told him he was going to recommend him for the promotion board. He's talking about, like, picking out his next duty station when he's up for reenlistment, as if he wanted my input."

"Again, I don't see the problem." I stated, staring at her blankly.

"Well, I mean, what about me?" She asked, exasperated. "What if I don't want any of that? I don't know if I want to re-up. If I don't, I sure as hell don't want to be stuck on some shithole Army base."

"Okay, okay, I get it. You seem to be out of your element, so let me break it down for ya." I said condescendingly. "See, Steve is showing symptoms of being a responsible adult. I know you're not used to that kind of guy. I've seen the dirtbags you've dated."

"Shut up, I'm serious." She complained.

"I'm serious." I shot back. "You have a man who has been good to you. One that has a career, unlike Stokes who dropped you like a bad habit to go be a bartender in Florida."

"Okay, not fair," she grumbled.

"Totally fair," I snapped. "Steve has some big things happening, it looks like. Now, he's thinking about his future and wants to consider you a part of it."

She mumbled something in response, but I couldn't hear it. Reverting back into her muted state, she no doubt was mulling over my take on her situation. Giving it to her straight was harsh, but she needed to hear it. My tough love approach most likely had me on her bad side again, but I knew her well enough. She was stubborn but would ultimately come around.

The column slowed and then halted on the unimproved road we were traveling. Most didn't have to be told; just followed normal convoy protocol and started pulling off the trail in a herringbone pattern. Stragglers soon followed suit. Before long, a staff sergeant began marshaling vehicles into place.

Once all the vehicles were staged, all facing what we had decided would be down range, the area was abustle. Chun and I started by stowing personal belongings and setting up the patient compartment to receive casualties, should the worst occur. After we were set, per usual, one would stay with the ambulance while the other mingled.

It wasn't so much for the purposes of socializing; we did this deliberately. The ambulance was visible enough with the giant red crosses displayed on all sides, so naturally soldiers knew where to go if they needed help. The medic doing rounds was to touch base with leaders, get an idea how the event would be orchestrated and observe for possible safety concerns. Chun, still deep in thought posted up in place, while I went made rounds.

The OIC (officer in charge) wasn't hard to find. A first lieutenant and West Point grad, he was wound tighter than a tick's ass trying to make sure everything went off without a hitch. For a young officer, it wasn't such a big deal if things went well, but if there were a mishap on his watch, it could stifle his career for quite a while, if not permanently.

After a few minutes of getting some asinine nit-picky instructions and a not-so-subtle threat should something go wrong, I moved on to see the squad leaders. We discussed the usual; hearing and eye protection, body armor and helmets, staying away from wildlife and unexploded ordinance, etc. Pretty soon, I was face to face with the real man in charge that day.

Sergeant First Class Valencia was serving as his regiment's acting first sergeant and was the NCOIC (non-commissioned officer in charge) for the range. Just to look at him, you could tell he had done this thousands of times. He was calm and cool, but gave curt and clear directions, moving equipment and personnel in place for optimal safety and success.

With a slap on the back, he greeted me. "Hey doc! Hooah! Glad you could join us." He said in a horse, gravelly voice.

Snapping to parade rest, I replied, "great to be here, Top."

"At ease." He calmly directed. "So, you going to shoot with us?" He asked

"Oh, love to, Top, but I just talked to lieutenant..." I trailed off having forgotten his name. "Anyway, LT said there was only enough ammo for the platoon to shoot once."

"Aw, him," he stated flippantly. "He don't know shit. There's another truck. Be here soon. I told Sergeant Major we were cutting it close and he fenagled another dozen or so rockets from the Kuwaitis. We'll have plenty."

"Hell yeah, First S'arnt. I'm in." I cheered. "Any safety concerns?"

"Nah doc. You look like you've done this a time or two. Stay visible, make sure troops are staying hydrated and we'll make LT look like General Patton."

"Yes, First S'arnt." I returned. "You sound like you got a little sore throat?"

"Aw yeah, you know, sleeping outside. It gets chilly out here at night. Ain't nothing though." He dismissed.

"Alright, Top. Keep an eye on it. I don't want to be policing you up down range later." I warned.

"Shit, doc. Don't worry 'bout me." He said casually. "That LT over there, though, you might be policing up with a broken neck if he doesn't get off my ass."

"Speak of the devil." I quipped as our OIC barked out for his first sergeant.

* * * * * *

After getting organized and it came time to shoot, tensions eased. I stayed near the line of troops waiting their turn, while Lucy remained with the Humvee. Figuring she still wasn't wanting to be sociable, I planned to check on her later.

For a target, they towed two old panel trucks; the kind like the UPS guy would drive, except one was painted red and the other blue. The first trooper lined took aim and overshot them both. Second guy up let loose his rocked and it exploded in the sand right in front. When the dust settled, we found our foes still intact.

Word came down from LT to call a cease fire and go to cold status before the next soldier could give it a try. A huddle formed around the two that had already gone, listening to them exchange notes. It seems the first had set his sights for three hundred meters and the second had dialed in two fifty. Both swore they aimed for dead center on the red truck, so clearly the range was somewhere in between the two attempts.

It was then I saw Sergeant First Class Valencia emerge from LT's Humvee. He came out and informed the other NCO's running the range that the someone had spotted a Bedouin herding camels and he might be down range from us. Once he was done briefing everyone, I fished a packet of throat lozenges out of my aid bag.

"Hey Top," I hollered. "Heads up." I said, tossing it over to him.

When he caught it, he inspected and then expressed his appreciation. "Hooah, doc! Thanks."

"Anytime," I blurted.

"Hey what are you doing over there? Though you were shooting with us." He complained.

"Yeah, sure Top, I just thought I'd make sure everybody else got to go first."

"I told you, doc, there's plenty of ammo. Get your ass up here," he ordered, marching me right to the front of the line. This meant that when the range went hot again, I'd be the next to shoot.

Being a medic, I rarely got to shoot anything bigger than my M-16. I felt pretty nervous up here in front of all these line grunts getting to play with their cool toys. Still, I wanted to make the most of my moment, so I used the other two guys' experience to my advantage.

At the firing line a staff sergeant with Oakley sunglasses beckoned me over and handed me the big green tube. He reminded me to keep the weapon oriented up and down range at all times. I had remembered from basic training how to open the sights, but when he saw me fumbling, he gave it a Karate chop, popping up the aperture.

"You fired one of these before?" he asked.

"Never with a live round. We shot blanks in basic." I responded.

"Piece of cake," he insisted. "There's no kick back, so don't lean in. This is your safety pin, here." He said pointing at the side of the tube. "Pull it out when you're ready. When you get lined up, push the safety down with your fingers and the trigger is under your thumb."