Before they reached the top step, I knew.
Dear Michelle,
BCT – that's Basic Combat Training – is tough. I don't think I've ever been in an environment so demanding. Days are long and exhausting, and nights always seem too short to catch us up on the sleep we direly need. We wake up bright and early to breakfasts which I doubt are edible, let alone to ones that can stand up against your cooking. Oh, your cooking! I never knew how much I missed it until now. I guess the Home Economics classes you took really payed off, huh? And I thought that they were silly.
I don't think I will ever spend as much time crawling through mud in the rest of my life as I have over the past couple of days, and when I might have thought of it as some good quality fun before, I'll never think of it that way again. Mud is awfully cold and wet and I'm constantly finding myself washing it out of body parts I didn't even know I had. Neither will I (hopefully) ever have to endure this much snoring again in my lifetime – my bunkmate is a decent enough fellow, but his snores sound like a jackhammer. His name is Danny and he's a bit hard to understand sometimes because he's got a heavy accent – Spanish, I think – but he's a fantastic poker player and easy to get along with.
Not everyone else around here is as friendly as Danny. I'm so used to being yelled at that it doesn't even phase me any longer. Even YOU could blow up at me, and I wouldn't bat an eyelash. Well, maybe I'd bat an eyelash, but it wouldn't be because you yelled at me, it would be more because I was concerned about why you were yelling at me. Because of course, I would never intentionally do anything to make you so angry, right? Ha ha.
So it turns out I'm an excellent shot. Even my commanding officers are impressed! You wouldn't be impressed though, of course, because guns are quote-unquote 'violent'. I'm sure you wouldn't still think that way if we were living under a dictatorship and women were still treated like useless baby-makers. But we've had this conversation a thousand times already, so I digress.
I hope your doing well. How's university going for you? I'm sure you're at the top of your class, Ms. Smarty-pants. You're going to be the best nurse in the world. Even the brain surgeons will pale in comparison to your supreme medical knowledge and experience and whatnot... Just don't run off to Africa to save people without telling me first, okay?
Only five more weeks! I'm counting down the seconds until I get to go home again.
Goin' it Spartan-style,
Craig Bennett.
--
Dear Michelle, AKA Mrs. Craig Bennett,
I must admit, I've say it out loud constantly when no ones around. I love the way it sounds – Michelle Bennett. It was like you were named specifically with the intention to have my last name attached to your first. I've showed pictures of you to the other men in my unit, and they all say I must have brainwashed you, because otherwise a lovely creature like you wouldn't have married a guy like me. Did I brainwash you, Michelle? Because you certainly brainwashed me. You are my one and only. You are all that I think about while I'm out here. Now, you're probably laughing right now because that sounds corny, but it's true!
I'm a little worried now that I've gone away that some guy will sweep you away in my absence. I have a picture of him in my head, too. His name is Alessandro and he wears a large, puffy shirt like that guy off of Riverdance which is parted slightly to reveal his twenty-four pack. His hair is long and black and flows in the wind even when the wind isn't blowing. He sings and makes pasta and rides on one of those little scooters. He is very in touch with his emotions and has a rose in his mouth everywhere he goes, which is very uncomfortable on account of the thorns, but he keeps it in there anywhere to show how macho and insusceptible to pain he is. It is a very depressing image indeed, because I would hardly be any competition for such a man, right?
It is HOT in Baghdad! Most of the other boys are used to it by now, but even with the AC cranked up and a fan turned on high and aimed directly at me, I'm still sweating buckets. I know you're probably worrying out of your mind, but there's no need. Things are pretty uneventful right now. I haven't really seen some serious action since I came here. Our days off are excruciatingly boring. We have to stay inside the Green Zone, so there's not much else to do besides play football. Have you ever tried playing football in a hundred and ten degree weather? You might as well lock yourself in a kiln.
I got the care package you sent. The cookies were so delicious that I didn't share any of them, (except for two that I spared for Danny) and instead flaunted them in front of the guys to see them drool. And drool they did. I know your probably mad at me for not sharing with anyone besides Danny, but keep sending more and I swear I will! Share, that is.
I don't suppose my mom is speaking to you yet? If not, just give her some time. Mumsy is incredibly difficult to impress, and being the mommas boy that I am, she probably feels that you have stolen away her only reason for living. She probably agrees with me that I have been brainwashed. Just whatever you do – don't agree with her. As weird as it seems, she absolutely hates it when people agree with her. She feels that when they do, it means that they don't think for themselves. You should have no problems with it anyway, so go right ahead and do what you're best at: being contradicting! (You know I'm just kidding, love, even if it is true. Please still send me cookies.)
It won't be long until I'm done serving overseas. Don't miss me too much. I'm counting down the seconds until I get to go home again!
Don't run off with Alessandro while I'm away,
Your Husband.
--
Dear Michelle,
Danny shot himself in the foot. I know what it seems like, but he wasn't trying to get sent home early, I swear, and I know, because I was right there with him, in the same room, when he did it. It was truly and honestly an accident. He was cleaning out his gun, you see, and Danny never was the best with handling guns. When it went off, I don't know who was more started – Danny, or I. Danny's fine, and the Doc says he'll heal up real fast, but they're sending him home anyway. It will be lonesome without Danny. Dare I say it, perhaps I will miss his jackhammer-snoring. It's a bit endearing, once you get past the annoyance of sleep-deprivation.
They have already replaced Danny with a young cadet fresh out of training. He looks barely eighteen. He is not nearly as good at cards as Danny, spends most of his free time with his face stuck in his gameboy or whatever the heck that is, and talks in his sleep. Will I ever share a bedroom with someone who sleeps like a normal person? Danny and his snoring, now Geoff (that is the name of my new roommate) and his talking, and oh, how you kicked! My shins were black and blue when I woke up next to you, but at least when it's you it's worth it!
You need to stop stressing out about what they're saying on the news. It's just a few extra shootings and suicide bombings, nothing all that much more than what was happening when I got here. No one's been seriously hurt and I haven't been let near anywhere dangerous, anyway. That sort of stuff is reserved for the higher-ups who've been serving for longer.
So you finally broke the ice with mum, huh? You and she will be great friends, I predict. I know it seems unlikely, judging by the rocky start to your relationship, but trust me, you two have plenty in common. For instance, you both like to criticize me about my cleaning habits! Now what could two people have in common than that?
I'm glad that your job is working out for you. I'd love to see you in one of those cute little nurse outfits! Do you wear the ones with the Duckies that I bought for you that Christmas? You're charming enough without them, but imagine how much more charming you'd be with duckies all over your charming self? Just be careful not to charm your male patients too much. On second thought, maybe you should treat them like scum – not scummy enough to get you fired, just scummy enough to keep them away from you. On that note, my mental image of Alessandro has changed. He is now also a doctor working at your hospital. Maybe you should treat the Doctors like scum, too.
Counting down the seconds until I get to go home again!
I promise I will not shoot myself in the foot,
Craig.
--
Dear Michelle,
Yeah, I know that things are getting a bit rough. But this is what I wanted to do my entire life, you know? Just like you always wanted to help people, I always wanted to help people, just in a different way. Someone's got to fight for our country, and if I don't, who's to say that somebody else will? I'm proud of myself, and I'm proud of you for supporting me. I know you don't want a husband who's never there. I'll be home soon enough, though, and until then I'm just giving my ten cents towards making the world a better place, and I'll be a better man because of it.
I love you lots and I miss you. It gets worse and worse every day when I can't be by your side. When this is all over and done with, and I'm back home at last, I don't think I'll want to do anything but hold you for days on end. Geoff is reading this over my shoulder and he's laughing at me, and you're probably laughing as you read this, too, but so what if my words are all full of icky, lovey-dovey sentiments? If they allow me to express even an ounce of the depth of my profound adoration for you and the despair caused by our being apart, then they do their job.
I have to keep this brief because we're heading out into the field shortly. I love you. I love you. I love you. I'd write it a thousand more times, but I'd get a wrist cramp. I'm counting down the seconds until I can go home AT LAST!
Keep your chin up,
Craig.
--
It was Wednesday, during the short interval of time between afternoon and dusk where the sun hangs suspended in the sky like its stuck there and won't ever move ever again – when it feels like the world has stopped. Out of the corner of my eye I saw them, two officers in their neatly ironed and pressed uniforms coming up the porch with the most serene of expressions on their face.
Before they reached the top step, I knew.
My solider had gone home at last.
