Roswell Fanatics

Title: Going to War
Disclaimer: Katims thought them up but abused them. I am just doing this for fun and revenge on him.
Pairing: Max/Liz
Rating: ADULT
Summary: Needless to say. Very AU. No Aliens.
Author's Note: For those not familiar with the military this site will help you with military acronyms and abbreviations
http://www.all-acronyms.com/cat/2






Liz Parker sat down in the library of the High School of Worland, Wyoming. It was small, just like the school, just like the town. She spent a fair amount of time there, which was reflected in her grades. She was probably going to be the Valedictorian; but that is not much to boast about when the Senior Class was only going to be 86 strong. And a couple will probably fail their finals so the number that graduates will be less than that in the two months to go before Graduation. What Liz Parker was doing right now was this: trying to figure out what to do after Graduation. Despite a near 4.0 GPA, and Valedictorian, and a VERY good SAT score, College was not exactly beckoning. Liz was very well rounded; very smart to extremely smart in all the major areas of study: Science, Literature, etc. She had no real weakness (well Art- never did seem to figure that out very well). She was known to be studious and hardworking; her mother worked for the City as a secretary for the Town Council; Liz helped out by waitressing at the Ram’s Horn Café. Her father had lit out when Liz was only 2; she had no memory of him. He had not been heard from since. It had been just her and her mother, Nancy Parker. Which wasn’t so bad. They had not been rich, but not really poor either. But if Liz had wanted anything extra she had had to earn the money herself; which she had. Sad fact was that there were not many jobs available around Worland. It was a small town. Liz did alright as a waitress; but there was no way she was going to keep doing that if there was any other possible alternative.

Elizabeth Claudia Parker, was a 5’1” Brunette; petite but not thin. She was sturdy; carrying heavy plates and the like around for hours a day tends to build you up fairly well; and Liz made a point of running some and otherwise exercising. She was very fit and surprisingly strong for her size. She weighed 110 lbs, which usually surprised anyone when she gave her weight. Boys considered her cute rather than beautiful; and she had a sunny disposition. She did not suffer fools at all, though, and did not put herself out to attract boys. So her social calendar was somewhat limited. Working as much as she did would have limited it anyway. She had not met any boys that would have tempted her to cut down on her hours.

Liz had been aware for quite a while that it would not be easy to even go to community college; the nearest one was well over 100 miles away and you did not commute in this part of the country; the weather would NOT allow it. Not to mention the cost. Liz could probably get a partial scholarship and student loans; but that would leave her with a four year degree and heavy student loans. Couple that with the fact that she did not know what she career she wanted and the problem was obvious. While her SAT scores were very high, they were not stratospheric enough to get a full scholarship. She had even for a while considered one of the military academies; but the process required congressional help. No joy there. There were entrance exams; but what you had there were thousands of applicants trying for a handful of slots. She would have tried that but found out too late where the last one was; it would have been expensive to go there anyway. Community college was probably just barely possible; but she would have to work almost full time to afford it; and frankly she did not really consider it worth the effort, especially since she had no idea what kind of career really interested her.

And she was determined to get away from Worland. She could not really complain about her life; but it had been decidedly dull. She had some good friends; but not lifelong best bud type of friends. Her mother was also not really interested in staying there; she had just been sort of stuck. She had gotten a good job and had realized that it was just smart to stay. Both of them would have no problem leaving and not coming back. The area was beautiful, but the climate was frigid in the winter and way too hot in the summer and too dry all around.

So as she sat there during study hall, this fairly nice day in early April (sunny and lower 50’s, a little windy), contemplating her future, or lack thereof. Somehow Liz knew that she needed to get away from Worland, and Wyoming. She had no desire to hit the big cities, but small towns had paled on her. She also wanted a better climate. And some excitement. An idea had come to her and she was now looking at it.

“Liz, are you sure about this?”

“Not even close to sure, Mom, but my options are limited.”

Nancy Parker sighed. Her daughter was bright; very bright. She deserved to go to college. But the location that she and Liz had been stuck at for almost 16 years was not advantageous as regards that goal. Nancy just knew, and this was NOT a mothers partiality, that Liz would have been high up in the senior class of any high school in the country. Maybe not valedictorian, but close. Her SAT’s showed that. But a little high school in Wyoming was not going to impress anyone. While Liz’s accomplishment in a large high school would certainly have gotten her full scholarships to several universities, being valedictorian of Worland Wyoming High school did not get it done.

Liz smiled at her mother. “Mom, for the one thousandth time do not blame yourself. When dad split on us, you were stuck. You were VERY lucky to get a good job. And smart to keep it. It allowed us to live comfortably in this small but reasonably cozy home. I got a pretty good primary education; not great but good. Yes it did work against me as regards opportunity for college. But overall pretty good, and much better than the probable alternatives. This was not a bad place to grow up at all.”

“OK, honey, I will not go there. I see how you have grown up and become a fine young woman and I realize part of that reason was where we lived.”

“MOST of that reason was you, Mom. Never forget that.”

“Fine, then. That still brings us to the point about you wanting to go to college and frankly not being able to. And a lot of that reason because of where we are.”

“No argument mom. Which is why this alternative has to be carefully checked out; which I have been doing this past week. Mostly at school on the Library computer since it has a much faster connection speed then ours does.”

“Cody?”

“That is the nearest one. I am fairly certain which way I want to go but they have all three there so I will have a conversation with all of them.”

“Three?”

“No way am I considering THAT one. I believe if you go that route you are looking at making it a career and that is NOT my intention.”

“Certainly not. You sure you want to go by yourself?”

“Better that way. And you do not want to take time out from your job; I will have a free Friday next week and will do it then.”

“Well I can get a ride in with Louise so that is not a problem. And it’s not really that much of a drive.”

“Not for people who live in this part of the country, certainly.”

And so that next Friday Liz found herself leaving just before dawn and driving to Cody Wyoming. She did not push and so she got there just before 9. Just as the office was opening.

She was the first one in outside of the person opening it up; she looked around and saw that while there were two other small offices they were closed. She looked at the one that was in.

“They will probably not come in until later. They did not have anyone scheduled and while I do not either, one of us has to be here. We have a rotation.”

“OK. I intend to be here all day; I want to talk to them as well.”

“So you are interested in a career in the US Army?”

Staff Sergeant William Jones had been a recruiter for almost two years; he had another year to go before moving on. He took pride in the fact that he had never lied to any recruit; and pretty much had never led them on at all. This young lady looked like a possibility. While rather small, she appeared sturdy and gave off an air of intelligence and confidence. She was carrying a folder; looked like she was prepared to talk and ask questions. He much preferred someone like that then someone who just wandered in out of curiosity.

“I am Staff Sergeant William Jones. Just call me Bill. And you are?”

“Elizabeth Parker, from Worland.”

“You must have gotten up fairly early to get here before 9.”

“Not really; it took me less than two hours and I did not push it. I am used to getting up at 5 or so anyway.”

“Well that is a very good trait to have if you are looking at going into the Military. We do NOT keep bankers hours.”

“Bill, I have done some research and have gone online and checked things out. I think I have a fairly good idea but talking to a recruiter is a must.”

“I like someone who has prepared. Another good trait to have in the service.”

“You gotta have a plan.”

Bill grinned at that. He liked this girl.

“Elizabeth, the military does NOTHING without a plan.”

“Call me Liz. I kind of figured that.”

“High School senior?”

“Yep. Here are my transcripts.”

Bill blinked a little at that. Not many thought to bring them. He took the folder and looked. Impressive; probably going to be the valedictorian; those SATs are VERY good. After another minute or so he handed them back to her.

“Very impressive Liz. I can truthfully say that no one I have seen since I have been a recruiter, and that is going on three years, has had as good a school record as you do. I take it that college is just not in the cards because of money?”

“Pretty much. Being valedictorian of a class of maybe 86 is not very impressive. At least not to those that deal out scholarships. And while I did very well on my SAT’s, not high enough.”

“Well, if you are looking at joining the Army in order to get to college later on, that is something we do a lot of. And that is why you are here.”

“Pretty much. I figure four years with what I can get while in the service, and what I can save and what the GI Bill will help me with, will allow me to do college with a whole lot less debt than any other way open to me.”

“Thousands do it every year from all the services. And I am always happy to have someone motivated and ready, which you certainly seem to be. Do you have an idea of what career you want?”

“That is another reason for going this route. I really have no idea what I want to do; and it would not be of the good to get halfway through, working my fingers to the bone on a job outside of college, then find out what I wanted and to have wasted time and money because I need to go in another direction.”

Bill nodded. She certainly did have a plan and had been looking around and researching. All in all she might be, if she did go with the Army, the best recruit he had ever signed up.

They talked for over an hour; Liz took detailed notes and asked some very good questions.

“There are a number of MOS’s open for you; while you cannot quite have your pick it’s not far off. Anything catch your fancy?”

“While I am proficient as regards computers, and realize that that is an area that is a must in this world, I would prefer not to go into any computer heavy area.”

“OK. Here are some possibilities.”

Liz spent half an hour going down the list. Finally deciding on two.”

“88M and 89B. Motor operator and Ammunition Specialist. Interesting; do you have an interest in big trucks and blowing things up?”

“Big trucks, maybe; blowing things up, not so much. If I did I would have gone for EOD.”

“Truck driver is basically what 88M is. And to be honest, Liz, you are small.”

“REALLY?”

Bill just had to grin at that. He liked her more and more. If not for the very steady girlfriend he had in town, Liz would be on his list for sure.
“Not saying you could not do it; but it would be tough and you would be riding on phone books all the time.”

“Very funny. Now for truth; would it be that tough?”

“Yeah, Liz, it would be. So if those are the two that interest you then Ammunition Specialist is the better way to go. And it is a specialty that usually has a fair number of vacancies. Most people do not want to handle explosives.”

“Well that does not bother me, or at least I do not think so. And by a good number of vacancies that should mean that I would have a good chance of going somewhere half decent.”

“That you would. By Half decent I mean the larger Army posts like Ft Hood, Ft Stewart, Ft Riley and so on. Because that is where the larger units are stationed and where more ammo and more ammo users are stationed.”

“OK. So walk me through the process of what I would go through if this is the route I choose.”

And he spent the next 45 minutes doing that. It was coming unto 1130 when the Navy and Air Force recruiters came in. Liz decided to talk to the Air force recruiter and then the Navy recruiter.

Rather tired, Liz made it back by 530 that afternoon. She talked briefly to her mother, ate dinner then tumbled into bed. She would use the Saturday to go over her notes and talk to her mother. But in her mind she had just about made her decision.

On the third of May, 2001 Elizabeth Parker signed papers enlisting in the US Army as an 89B Ammunition Specialist for four years. Sergeant Bill, as she called him, had talked to people and had given her a detailed list of what would be going on. She had asked him about physical training and he had told her to try and be at 3 miles running per day and work on pull ups and situps.

She worked on that steadily over the next two months; she would graduate on 11 June and on 23 June report to Ft Benning, GA for Basic Training. She was lucky in that she would be able to get both basic and her follow on specialty training there.

Her friends were frankly surprised; but as she explained her decision they understood. A couple of them even started to look into the same thing. Liz was a little sad that she did not have any really close friends; but that is the way it was. At least that made leaving a little easier. She really made a point of working hard to get into better physical shape and to research what she would be learning both in Basic and Advanced training. 9 weeks Basic, then 10 Weeks advanced. Then more after that.

Some of her teachers at the High School had hoped she would find a way to college, and moreover hoped she would not have to go this route. But they also understood and supported her.

By the time she got on the place to fly out, Liz Parker was in the best shape of her life. She had been able to get up to 5 miles a day running just in that last week; and she could now do 30 pull ups and 100 situps. Which were well above the minimums required.

She would have 10 weeks of Basic Training; then 9 Weeks of AIT MOS training. She would get a weeks leave after the AIT training. So after 20 weeks she would be trained and then sent to her unit, wherever that may be. So sometime in November she would be going to her home station. Odds were that it would be one of the big posts from Hood to Bragg to Riley, etc.

Liz Parker sat on her bunk at Ft Benning in Basic Training section 44A. Basic Training was NOT coed; all men or all women. The AIT training afterwards might be. This first day had been a little confusing for her; nowhere near as much as for just about everyone else in her platoon of 40. It surprised her, that with information on this fairly easy to find out, that more had not. She had found herself answering some of the questions since they had noticed that she seemed unsurprised and prepared. The first day, as their Drill Sergeant, Serena Williams, told them, would be the easiest. They had lined up; been assigned sections, then had drawn their uniforms and basic equipment. That had taken all morning. Then had come Chow; lunch chow anyway. Not the greatest but not too bad. She had started to get to know the other girls in her section.

Maria Deluca was a diva, no doubt about it. Why a Diva was in the army was a story in itself. Basically she had gotten pissed off with her home life and decided on a massive change. Liz was still snickering at that. Tess Harding was a really beautiful blond, but seemed to be OK. Isabelle Evans was a tall, classically beautiful blond, and a little stuck up but not too bad. Those three had latched onto Liz as one who already had an idea of what was going on and more importantly, what to expect. Maria had asked her how she knew.

“Well, months ago I looked at my situation in Worland, Wyoming and realized that going to college would be really difficult and since I had no real idea what career I wanted, could very well be a waste of time. Just getting a regular job would be pretty much impossible for a high school graduate. So I started to look at the military. I looked things up online and did some research. Then I drove to Cody Wyoming to the nearest recruiter and talked to Army, Navy and Air Force. Spent a couple of hours with each one and had them answer some basic questions. Then went home and researched some more and went to some military forums online and listened and asked questions there. When I decided on the Army, the recruiter got more information for me and suggested other places to look. I used the next two months doing that and working out and getting physically ready. So I got a pretty good idea on what was going to happen, when, and just as important why they do the things the way they do. A fair amount of the time there are good reasons for it. Sometimes its tradition; and sometimes there is no reason- it’s just the way the Army does things.”

Isabelle had blinked at all that. “Wow. You really prepared.”

Tess nodded. “Which is something we all should have done more of.”

Maria laughed. “Well, Liz, I am betting you always have a plan.”

Liz had grinned. “Ya gotta have a plan.”

The first month ground by; Liz was about the third best physically prepared in her platoon; two good former track team members were ahead of her in most areas; but she was just about the top of the class as regards being able to do pullups and situps and the other physical things beyond running. She found herself helping out the other three girls who she had gotten to be friends with the most, but helping out any others that asked. Nothing had really surprised her; and so far nothing had been too hard or too complicated for her.

Serena and her deputy, Susan Sullivan, a staff sergeant, were going over the reports and reviews of the first month with Section 44A. Serena sat back and took a sip of coffee.
“Well, we got lucky with this section. No real problems so far. Might not lose anyone.”

Susan snorted. “Way too early to say that; but I agree I think we got lucky.”

“So far we got the usual mix; Diva and farmgirl; big city and small town; poor and fairly well off. No real rich ones and no refugees from a ghetto. Which is good.”

“So, who are you looking at for section leader?”

Serena raised her eyebrow.

“OK, I know its two early; but who?”

“Not really hard to see who the number one candidate is; but it’s still early.”

“Yeah. She has not yet had to improvise or confront anything that she did not already know about.”

“True, but I cannot remember the last recruit I had that was as well prepared as Liz Parker is.”

“Never seen one as good either. Well the next couple of weeks should tell the tale.”

Liz was puffing as she finished the obstacle course; it was a little tough on the wall for someone as short as she was. Thankfully the rest of it was actually easier for a short person so overall she could not complain. The upper body strength she had been working on came in real handy. She stood by the rest of the early finishers as the last group made their run. As usual, Maria did the worst. She had never done much of anything physical in her life and it showed. Fortunately for Maria, she had a lot of grit and was as stubborn as all get out. Which was enough for her to so far make it. And she was getting better. Not that you could tell from her comments.

The Drill Sergeant was talking to someone so they had a couple of minutes to rest; which was not usual in the high speed and very well filled days that composed Basic Training.

“Liz, it is really not fair you being so short. The wall is the only thing that even slows you down and it’s totally unfair how easy the tunnels are for you. You can almost walk upright.”

The others laughed at that. Liz grinned.
“Ya, never knew short could come in so handy.”
Maria was a blast a lot of the time that her occasional whining was over looked. Tess was actually slightly shorter than Liz and had been getting into better shape so she was doing it almost as easily. Isabelle found that being tall was not so good; Liz had talked to her about a couple of things and she was doing better.

“All right, people, time for Class. Form up and DOUBLE TIME.”

That was one thing that the other girls did not understand; why did they alternate physical drills and training with class time; why not spend all morning on one and all afternoon on another. Liz had explained from what she had learned.
“It’s so you do not get comfortable. Basic Training is meant to weed out the week and the stupid. The harder it is, the more of them that go now.”

“It’s our bad luck that timeout cards are gone.”

Liz laughed at the petulance of Maria.
“It was always stupid and it lasted only a few years. There is no timeout in combat or when the situation is bad. You think the other side is going to accept your timeout card?”

Serena and Susan had overheard that, and had looked at each other with slight smiles.

“Recruit Parker present as ordered, Sergeant.”

“At ease, Parker.”

Liz then went to the at ease position. She had practiced this even before coming to Benning, and had gotten it right before anyone else.

“Parker, in the last two weeks of Basic a Section Leader is chosen. It was an easy decision this time for this section. No one else was as well prepared and ready as you were; and you have shown some ability to react to situations that you were not fully prepared for. You will now wear this ARM patch designating you as section leader. I will now have Sergeant Sullivan explain what that means.”

“Parker, you were one of the lowest of the lows. A Recruit. You are now one step up from the gutter. Section Leader. You can lose it as fast as you got it if you screw up. From this point on it will be up to you to get everyone ready in the morning, and down at night. And any problem any of the others have will go through you first. But then that has pretty much been the way it has been in this section since the first day so no change there. Any questions?”

“Sergeant, just how far am I allowed to go to get things done.”

Serena and Susan both raised their eyebrows at this unexpected question. Serena chose to answer it.
“Not quite as far as we are allowed to go, Parker. Is that all?”

“yes, Sergeant.”

“Dismissed.”

After she left Serena looked at Susan. “Now that was a surprise.”

“Yeah. Think she was expecting this?”

“Maybe. She had to know about section leaders, as well prepared as she was. There really was no one else that fit the bill; the couple of wannabe’s do not count.”

As she walked back to the Barracks, Liz went back to the last 8 weeks, scenes flashing through her head.

Liz sighted down the rifle; her M16A2 longer and heavier than the new M4 carbine, but she would not see that until she reached her final unit, if then. Liz had never fired a gun in her life and this was familiarization. Taking a deep breath she sighted on the target and fired. The weapon kicked and the sound hit her even through her hearing protection. She kept firing until her magazine was empty, then pulled it out and opened the bolt. Waiting for the range safety officer to do anything else.

A couple of minutes later the target sheets were brought forward and they all looked at their scores. Liz was pleasantly surprised that she had not missed the target with any of her shots, even if all of them had not gotten inside the rings. Sergeant Williams looked at her sheet.
“Not bad, Parker. Ever fire a weapon before?”

“No sergeant; not even in an arcade or video game.”

“Then that is good. You have a decent pattern here; shows you maintained your stance and followed procedures. Keep it up and you might make Sharpshooter.”

Maria was sadly looking at her target which was pristine.
“Wow, I suck.”

Tess and Isabelle had not done too bad and were trying to console Maria.

“All right people let’s do it again. You know what you did right and wrong; so you will do better.”

Liz was a little more comfortable and was able to concentrate better; her score went up and now there was a solid grouping inside the rings.

Maria had managed to hit the target a couple of times. Sergeant Sullivan was shaking her head.
“Well, Deluca, some people are just natural born poor shots. But I am not yet willing to let you off the hook. Parker, you seem to have it down pretty well; you will assist Deluca and fire off three more magazines. You others will also work on your marksmanship.”

Liz worked hard with Maria, finally getting her to relax by telling her to imagine the targets were someone she really hated; that seemed to do the trick and by the last magazine she was getting most of the bullets on the target.

Williams looked at the last target.
“Deluca, do not worry about ever making sharpshooter. But it looks like you do have hope of qualifying. Dismissed.”

Liz faced Tracey Jones, one of the track athletes, on the mat in the Basic Hand to Hand drills. Liz knew she had a slight advantage for this being shorter, and intended to use it. Tracey made her move and Liz went low for a leg and got Tracey down, who then twisted loose to find Liz on her feet and ready again.

Liz felt pretty well after that day; Maria too. Maria turned out to have good instincts for hand to hand, which she explained as being necessary by having three older brothers. Tess and Isabelle had also done well.

Maria and the other two raised their eyebrows at Liz wearing an ARM band that had two stripes on it.
“Chica, what is that about?”

“The last two weeks of basic, the Drill Sergeant selects one of the recruits to act as section leader. That means I get to do the dirty work of getting people up and down. More work for no more pay.”

Tess grinned. “That sounds like the Army.”

The Sergeants came into the building and all the recruits stood up and came to attention next to their bunks.
“Allright people a little news. Parker has been selected to be section leader for the last two weeks of Basic. That means she has to make sure that you are up for the morning and down for the night and that any complaints you have you start with her and she will decide if you come to us. If you bypass us you better have talked to her first or your ass is mine. IS THAT CLEAR!”

“CLEAR, SERGEANT.”

“Very well. Lights out in 1 hour.”

A few of the other girls came over to congratulate Liz, who pointed out that she got nothing but more grief for the arm band.

Needless to say, the last two weeks were a lot tougher on Liz than anyone else; but much to her surprise she did not screw up and only had to take something to the Sergeants once. And no one went over her head.

The two sergeants were relaxing the last night of the Basic. Their reports and recommendations were done. Serena smiled.
“These last two weeks were pretty easy. Parker did a good job.”

“Well I really appreciate that; since most of what she had been doing was what I usually did.”

“I bet you do. I think Parker has a future in this military if she wants it.”

“I hope she does. We need a lot more like her.”


After Basic came AIT, which was different for each MOS. Liz felt lucky in that the other girls would be staying at Benning for the AIT parts of their training. Liz actually had one of the longer ones at 10 Weeks. The other girls were much shorter; they would share some classes. And Liz had worked a little on the DS and they were going to get one of the four person rooms together for AIT. Though after 7 weeks Liz would be the last one there as the others would be done.

Liz began to learn about ammunition; and before long she realized that while 10 weeks might seem a long time, for something this complicated that was only the beginning. She asked her chief MOS instructor why it was not longer.

“Parker, it’s because Ammunition is not High Profile. It should be; after all without it we are throwing rocks. But the Brass and the desk soldiers think so and that is all that matters. I see you have been doing as much extra as you can and that is very good. With Ammunition what you do not know CAN kill you. Whichever unit you go to, there should be QASAS there. If you can get to meet them and talk to them; they are the Army experts on Ammunition. And if you can talk your officers into it, take every chance you can to go to the ASP and help out and learn more. The more you learn the safer you are.”

Now that Basic was over, they were given Sundays off. And allowed to leave the post during the day. Not that there was all that much off post in this area. Liz felt lucky as the other girls agreed with that and felt no need to leave; so they just relaxed on Sundays and had girl talk.

She got to know them all a lot better; and was beginning to feel like she would make some very good friends. Of course none of them knew what posts they would be assigned to after AIT. Tess was going to supply as was Maria; and Isabelle would be a truck driver. Technically Liz was in support as well.

Liz walked away from the ceremony where the small MOS 89B class had graduated. There had only been 20 there; most of them men. Only 4 women. Liz had been surprised to find that she was top student again. As such she was given a little leeway as regards assignments. She had gotten word that Isabelle and Maria and Tess had all been sent to the 3rd Infantry Division in Ft Stewart, Georgia; so she decided to ask for that as well and got it. It might be hot and muggy there, but that was fine with her. It was Friday, September 7, 2001. She was due to report NLT 14 Sept 2001. She was catching a plane back to Wyoming that night. She was eager to see her mother again. She would leave on Monday, 10 September to get to Ft Stewart that night.

Nancy felt so proud as she picked up Liz at the Airport. She looked very good in her uniform; and there was something more confident and assured about her as well.

“Honey, you look great.”

“Thanks, Mom. I do feel good. Basic and AIT out of the way; going to the same post that Maria and the others are at is real good. I have some good friends there.”

“I am so glad to see you make friends. And so proud you were section leader and top student in your class.”

“I was real surprised about the Section Leader thing, though looking back I should not have been. And there were only 20 in my MOS class. Like being Valedictorian here.”

“That reminds me. You got a call from Sergeant Jones.”

“Ya, need to thank him. With what he told me and where to go for more information, there was little that surprised me.”

Just being home and with her mother and relaxing for a couple of days really made a difference for Liz. Yet she realized that she no longer really looked at Worland as home now.

Liz got to Savannah, Georgia late in the afternoon of the 10th. She contacted Maria and the girls came out and greeted her.

“Chica, this place is not bad. AT least the weather is cooling off some; the summer here is not pleasant.”

They had a good time and Liz then went to her motel room; she would report in first thing in the morning.

Luckily Liz had gotten one of the new CAC cards when she left Benning; that helped smooth things along as she came onto post. She had her CAC and a copy of her orders so the guards directed her right to in processing.

As was usual with the Army, it was hurry up and wait. By 0830 she had gotten to the point that she had post quarters assigned and the basics were done. She would report to her company commander and go from there. The Ordnance company on this post apparently had a decent office; which was rare for Ammo types, as she had been informed by her instructor at Benning. She was lucky in that not many were in processing at the same so she moved along well. It was 900 when she stepped into the building where the ordnance Company was stationed.

“Private Parker, 89B reporting for duty sir.”

Captain Simmons took a look at his new soldier. Elizabeth Parker was petite and cute; but looked competent and fit and ready. Which was good. He looked at her paperwork. Hmm. Section Leader at Basic; top of her class at 89B MOS AIT. That was good. Maybe he had someone who could get the job done.

“At ease, Parker. Looks like you have done well so far. I am taking a chance and saying that you realize that you are only at the very beginning of understanding Ammunition?”

“Yes Sir. My instructor told me to pester you to spend as much time at the ASP as possible and to get as much time talking to the QASAS as you could if you want to learn the job well.”

“Good Advice. Way too many ordnance companies in the Army do not take their training all that seriously. I only took over the company 3 months ago and that was certainly true here. I am trying to change that mindset. I am hoping you can get a lot of work done.”

“You will get my best sir.”

“I expect nothing less. Sergeant Axton will be the head honcho for the MOS 89B people; I will have him take over. Dismissed.”

Sergeant Axton was a big burly man; black as it was as possible to be. But clearly competent and easy to understand so Liz felt good. He had her in his office going over the paperwork and such when there was a sound of an alarm.

Axton was on his feet and out the door with Liz right behind him. They were into the Captain’s office where he was standing with a hard look on his face, listening to a conversation on the phone.

“Yes sir. We will head right to the ASP and start preparing sir.”

He put the phone down and faced Axton, Liz and a couple others in his office.

“Half an hour ago a plane hit the World Trade center in Chicago; another one just did the same. It is considered an attack. World wide the US just went to DEFCON 3. We will go on alert. The Post will be closed down; we are going to the ASP and get ready to issue go to war ammunition. Axton, keep Parker with you. She was high student in her class at Benning and is fresh from it; probably will be the best person to help you out. Move People.”

Liz followed Axton desperately trying to control herself. Instinctively she knew that everything had changed. She was going to war.

First thing they did was go to the Arms room; Captain Simmons quickly filled out an emergency issue form for Liz to get a M4; they had just changed over from the M16A2. Luckily Liz had been able to get in some practice with one before leaving Benning so it was not totally new to her. Getting live ammo and magazines was, though. The she and Axton piled into a Hummer and headed for the ASP (Ammunition Supply Point-where the ammo is stored). Liz was glad she had given Maria her duffle bag last night; it would be secure in her room. She just had her overnight bag and a few things with her. Axton actually thought about that on the way.

“Parker, where is your bag?”

“Have some friends here, Sergeant. They met me last night. Took it with them. I only have my overnight bag. Did not feel like lugging that around this morning.”

Axton nodded approvingly. “Good thinking. Really good thinking the way things are going down.”

“We are going to war.” It was a statement.

“No doubt about it. This is almost certainly Middle East Arab Terrorists; we will be going right to the source real fast.”

Liz nodded as she looked around. The camp looked like a beehive that someone had kicked over. People and soldiers scrambling every which way.

Liz was sober. “I wonder if this is what the country looked like on December 7, 1941? Though the difference was that was a Sunday and most people were expecting war to come sooner or later. This is one out of the blue.”

“Yep. Well we are a whole lot better prepared for this war then we were with that one.”

“I saw pictures of recruits carrying brooms instead of rifles. Wooden boxes on bicycle wheels marked as tanks. We were really not ready for WW2.”

Axton was thoughtful. Parker appeared to have settled down pretty quickly. And her observations were dead on. This was early; but it was a good sign. They needed good people in the Ordnance Company and the reality was they did not have many. They were understrength, undertrained, and while the new captain had made some strides and had gotten rid of the worst of the dead wood, what was left might be competent but not very well trained.

They pulled up to the guard shack of the ASP. Axton was glad to see that the guard had been reinforced already.

“Sergeant Nolan. Have you been briefed?”

“Just been told to lock down and be ready. Some rumors flying around.”

“Two planes hit the world trade center in New York. It was not an accident. World Wide we are at Defcon 3.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. The Captain will be down soon. This is Private Parker, fresh from Benning. We will need to modify the roster.”

“Gotcha Sarge. Let’s get to work.”

Liz quickly signed some forms; and kept copies. Luckily the sergeant had old fashioned carbon paper. There was no copier around. In 15 minutes they were headed to the bunker where the division Unit Load Small arms were located. This was the ready ammo; the immediate go to war ammo if war came to Ft Stewart. Axton had Liz start to make out generic 1348-1 forms, to issue ammunition to troops. Liz made out some with what she knew would be security and guard force ammo. Leaving out units and amounts. Just filling in the other details.

It was not long before some forklifts showed up. Axton had a copy of the planograph for that bunker, which showed where everything was and who it belonged too. Though luckily most of the pallets had placards on them identifying which units they belonged to. Working on instinct, Liz had the drivers pull out the Ammo for the MP company, and the current guard unit that would be used as the reactionary force. That force would back up the MP and Guards if something happened.

Axton came back from the gate and observed what Parker was doing. She was an E2 now but her uniform had not changed since she was not an E2 until she reported in. No matter. She had the drivers moving anyway. And he approved what she was doing. Girl had a head on her shoulders.

Liz had had some time and had gone through some scenarios back at Benning. She had asked the instructor what would be issued first in an emergency and he had given her an idea. She had worked a little on it herself in her spare time. That was what she was working off of; she had her notes with her.

Captain Simmons saw Axton at the Gate checking out the trucks that had already shown up. Some commercial loads were waiting and had been secured with some MPS. Luckily nothing important.
“Sergeant. How are we doing?”

“Good so far Sir. When the first units show up looking for ammo we should be ready. Parker has a head on her shoulders; she already has the forklift drivers pulling out pallets of the ready force and for the Guards and MPs.”
“Well that is good. Because so far none of the other MOS 98B’s have shown up.”

Axton looked at him and shook his head. Not that he was surprised; they only had 3 others right now and none of them had been here that long or knew that much. Sad to say, Parker might be the best he had. Axton was an 89B and experienced, but the Captain had been regular infantry and had not had much of a chance to learn since he had been sorting out the mess the ordnance company had been.

Almost immediately trucks and hummers started showing up with officers and sergeants screaming for Ammunition. Captain Simmons had gotten through to the EOC and they had told him to only issue ammo to the MPs and Reaction force. To be ready for more but not to issue more. He was happy to hear that; he did not want everyone running around with lots of ammo right now. Too many people were way too jumpy.

Isabelle sat in her truck and shook her head. She looked at Tess and Maria who were in the cab with her. The transportation company, where all three were currently assigned, wanted their ammo. They had been sent to the ASP to get some. Tess voiced her thoughts.
“I really do not want everyone around here with a fully loaded rifle.”

Maria snorted. “That is for sure.”

Isabelle smirked. “Especially you.”

“Hey!”

Maria grinned anyway then had a thought and grabbed her personal cell phone.
The other two looked at her. Maria winked. “Calling Liz. I bet she is already at the ASP.”

Liz took a deep breath and sat down on a half pallet of 5.56 ball. The last hour had been a rush. Captain Simmons had remained firm and had maintained only a few units- the Reaction Force and the MP’s- would get their full combat loads. No one else. Needless to say there were a few at the entrance raising hell about that. Liz had already filled out and issued the ammo to those units; Sergeant Axton had countersigned. So far so good. Looked like she would get a moment to relax. She was glad she had brought some water with her. They needed some here. Then her cell phone went off.
“Maria? You at the gate? No way. Nope. You can let your captain know that this is from the General. Only the reaction force and the MPS get their bullets and that has already happened. It’s going to take a brigade commander at the least to get any more. Yeah got that from Sergeant Axton who got that from Captain Simmons.”

Maria nodded and looked at Isabelle. “You want to tell the Captain?”

She grimaced. “Not really.”

Suddenly there a thumping on the door. Isabelle opened it to their Captain.
“Evans, what is the hold up?”

“Captain, just got talking to someone we know inside the ASP. Only the MPs and Guard Reaction force will be getting issued anything else then what they have in their guard rooms. No one else is getting a spare bullet from the ASP and that is from the General.”

“Damn. I just found out that just before he left on vacation Lt Short turned in all but 300 rds into the ASP. That is all the whole transportation company has.”

The three women groaned. Maria looked thoughtful.
“Liz. Listen, we had a dumbshit Lt turn in all but a few magazines on Friday. The whole company has zip. Is there anything you can do? OK.”

Maria looked at the captain. “Our friend inside will see what she can do.”

“Who is this friend?”

“Liz Parker, fresh from Benning and an 89B. From what I have heard she might be the only one in there right now.”

Liz closed her phone and bit her lip. She sighed and looked for the Sergeant. He was talking to a couple of others and she went up to them.
“Sergeant, can we do anything for the transportation company of the 1st Brigade. They had a dumb Lt turn in all but 300 rds on Friday. Which is not even their guard force quota. Then he went on leave.”

Axton shook his head. “Well I can guess that is one shavetail that will have his tail really shaved when he gets back. Not sure, Parker. Let’s go talk to the Captain.”

Captain Simmons was sitting in the guard shack. He had ordered the guards to let no one in unless they had orders from at least a brigade commander. He had called the ASP office and had found out some worse news; neither QASAS was on post. One was on leave and not due back until Friday, and the other had taken emergency leave due to a death in the family-and had left on Monday. They were both halfway across the country and with all aircraft being ordered to land it was a cinch that neither one would be back in the next few days. He looked up as Axton and Parker came into the shack.

“Captain, we got a request. Parker, fill him in.”

Simmons listened for a minute. “If anyone sees another unit leaving with ammo it will raise hell. But I do see their problem.”

Liz thought for a minute. “Captain, what if someone shows up with say water and such for us; we need it. And they can leave with some ammo and no placards; we can go with security reasons for the no placards.”

Axton and Simmons looked at each other and then at Liz. Simmons shook his head.
“Sneaky, Parker, but not illegal. OK. Tell them to bring what we need in a hummer and we will let them go out with some ammo.”

Maria listened and shook her head. “Wow, Liz is sneaky.”
She looked at the Captain. “Liz cut us a deal. They need water and a few things there; if we bring it in a closed off hummer they will let us out with ammo if we do not use placards to let anyone else know we got some.”

The Captain blinked and smiled. “Deal. And that is sneaky, Evans turn in this thing and get a hummer. Get what they need from the office.”

An hour later the deal was done and Liz was sipping cold water and had some shade from some Tarps they had been able to set up. Luckily there were some Porta potties nearby. Axton and Simmons were also drinking the first cold drink they had had that morning. Axton grinned at Liz.
“Parker, for a newbie, you catch on fast. First day with your unit and you are cutting deals.”

Simmons also grinned. “You might go far; or you might end up in Leavenworth.”

Liz blushed a little. “I kind of think that you should obey the regs when you can; but if something needs to get done bending them should be considered.”

The Captain and the sergeant nodded. Parker might go far.

After the first day, things settled down. It was not until later in the afternoon that the other 89Bs showed up to get chewed out in sequence by the Sergeant, then the Captain. While they were all just E2’s like Liz, they had all been in for longer. Simmons had checked Liz’s personnel folder and had whistled at her ASVAB scores; they were high. Quite High. He showed it to Axton while they were eating lunch (still at the ASP courtesy of Liz’s friends with the permission of their Captain; he saw the advantage of getting the Ordnance Company commander on his side).
Axton looked at her file and shook his head.
“Captain, lets bump her to E3 now. With these scores, and her performance at Benning, its justified under the situation. Since she has not fully processed in yet, we can bring her in at E3.”

“Definitely. That would make sure she can order our other 89Bs around. Which is important. Talk about hitting the ground running. That reminds me; what about her quarters?”

Axton grimaced. “Problem there. I got a call just a few minutes ago that her quarters got reassigned due to the mess. Might have to put her in BEQ.”

“Well nuts to that. Listen, the supply company captain might have slots in their quarters. At least for the time being.”

“I will talk to them; better yet let Liz talk to her friends.”

Liz called Maria. “Maria, I just found out they reassigned the quarters I was supposed to have. You guys got any vacancy’s?”

Maria looked at Tess who was with her in the office. “Liz needs quarters. You are without a roomy; how about Isabelle move over with you and Liz can bunk with me?”

“OK with me. I will call Isabelle.”

Liz shut down her phone and with a bounce in her stride headed over to tell the Sergeant.

“Sergeant, its fixed. I got quarters with my friends.”

“Good. In the meantime head by the PX and get some E3 rank. The Captain is bumping you up.”

Liz’s eyes grew big. “Really?”

Axton had to grin. For all her maturity, she was still young. “Really.”

They did not get out of the ASP until after 5. Liz had the drivers put the pallets back in the bunker. Then the sergeant gave her a ride to her quarters, telling her to be ready to roll at 6 the next morning.

Maria and the others were waiting; they were all gathered around a small tv, showing the news. Liz’s happiness took a nose dive as she remembered the day’s events. She quietly sat down next to Maria who put an arm around her.
“Heavy day, Chica.”

“Yeah.”

Not much later they headed over to the mess hall. Even in there they noticed the subdued atmosphere. They managed to get a table in the corner where it was fairly vacant.
Maria and the others took turns telling Liz what had been going on. The military had gone down to DEFCON 4 from 3 when no further attacks had occurred. But the base was still on lockdown; and increased security would become the norm.
Liz smiled when they asked her how things had gone at the ASP.
“Once the majority realized they were getting nothing they left; still had a few try later on but no big deal. And I got a promotion.”

Maria goggled. “Already?”

“The Captain is going to have me in processed as an E3 due to the situation.”

Tess shook her head. “That was fast; but then you earned it right off the bat anyway. I have been asking around lately and the fact is the ordnance company is not in good shape. Their new captain had to get rid of a lot of dead wood. And you are the first replacement he got.”

Isabelle nodded. “The Captain said the same thing; that the Ordnance company is probably going to be asking for people to be assigned temporarily. They are under half strength.”

Liz nodded soberly. “Not uncommon for ordnance companies. They get low priority for replacements and promotions so not many want to go there. Which is really stupid for an army; without Ammo you got to throw rocks.”

As it turned out Captain Simmons and Sergeant Axton were discussing the same thing. The Captain had just gotten a phone call while he and the sergeant were trying to eat dinner.
“Well that is nice. Division wants to know what our personnel situation is since it looks like we are going to war. I guess we should be grateful we do not have to worry about the rotorheads.”

“Yeah, they got their own. But that still leaves one understrength ordnance company for an entire heavy division.”

“Well they did say that we could get temporary help until we get more people in. But I already called Benning; there is not a new MOS 89B class due to start until February. Though that might get bumped up.”

“At least we got some people who can work the TAMIS and other paper work.”

“True. But we are badly short on 89B and really short on competent 89B. You are our only really experienced man. Parker is really good but no experience.”

“Got a chance to talk to the today. She is a real bookworm. Has all her course material with her and also talked her instructor into giving her all the advanced material. Which she was looking through even today. She spent a lot of her down time at Benning reading and learning more. I asked some questions that she gave good answers too that not many with several years in would be able to answer well. She has the theory down pat; just needs experience. Odds are that we are not going to move for months at least; so we can work her hard. Might even be able to get something out of the rest of them.”

“Well until our QASAS get back we are very short on ammo knowledge. And our division LAR is not going to be much help; he is getting sent to FORSCOM HQ to help plan things there.”

“Realistically Captain, nothing is going to happen for a while. But I do want to talk to the QASAS and have them come down to the ASP and try and get some more knowledge drilled into our people.”

Liz groaned as she rolled over; it was just before 5; no point in trying to stay in bed. She got up and managed to not wake Maria and headed for the showers. She preferred to take her time. Sitting under the shower felt real good; some of the tension started to work its way out. She was so glad to have her friends nearby. The world had changed drastically in the last 24 hours.

Still yawning she padded back to their room. She had laid out her uniform; and Maria had made a point of sewing on her new rank last night. The Captain had told her to hit Personnel at 6; he was going to be there and wanted her all processed. She got dressed and headed to the bus stop; it started at 0530 and would take her right to personnel.

Captain Simmons headed to Personnel early; he wanted to get Liz squared away. He found her waiting; just as he got to the door they opened up.

Pushing hard, the Captain got Liz in processed by 9. With her new rank. The Personnel officer grumbled about that but shut up when Simmons offered to call Division HQ. They headed to the mess hall and met Axton for Breakfast; he had been working the office early to start dealing with the mountain of paperwork that 9/11 was already generating.

The three sat; the two men somewhat astounded by how much the petite young woman was able to pack away. Axton could not believe it.
“Parker, do you have a hollow leg or what?”

“Did not eat a whole lot yesterday Sarge, and wanted to make up for it. This way I can go till dinner with no break and be fine. Gotta hunch things are not going to slow down for a while until it becomes obvious that we are not going anywhere for several months at least.”

Simmons was interested. “So you think so?”

“Captain, Afghanistan is where they are; not much use for a heavy division there. The Russians learned that the hard way. Hopefully we do not have to learn it the hard way as well. So unless something changes we are not going anywhere.”

Axton and Simmons looked at each other and grinned. Axton snickered.
“Well, Private Parker, you would be glad to know that your wisdom seems to be shared by division. They also stated that no deployment is expected for some time; but training will be accelerated. Which is good. This division needs some serious training before going anywhere.”

Finishing breakfast, they headed back to the office.

Axton had already gotten Liz an office; she would be supervising the other 89Bs under Axton. Right at this time the ordnance company only had one other officer, a LT Rogers. He was very busy working the ASP as they started to look at the ammo and thinking about what needed to be looked at. Once the QASAS got back, an increased inspection program would go into effect. Rogers would be in charge of moving the ammo to the inspection building and back. Simmons wanted the entire ordnance company to get as much practice moving ammo and handling it as possible.

Liz settled into work; she had been explicitly assigned to start drawing up plans to see how much transportation it would take to move a divisions worth of ammunition for an overseas deployment. Now much of the ammunition the division would use would come from elsewhere, but no Division commander wanted to depend on someone else for ammo when he got to the theatre; he wanted some with him. They would only be able to fly a small amount; the rest would have to go by ship. Ideally they wanted the ships to head out first; the troops and other equipment would arrive at a faster rate. Much of them would be flown. Simmons told Liz to get in touch with division G4 to see what space would be available to them during a division deployment.

The next few days went by quickly as things began to settle down; and people realized that the 3rd would not be going anywhere anytime soon. Simmons was able to push and get an advanced training curriculum for the ordnance company. Both QASAS were back and they had agreed to start teaching ammunition surveillance; the inspection and classification of ammunition. Liz would make it a point to be there for all those sessions. She knew enough to know just how much she had to learn.


One month later and they were gathered that Sunday night to see the first units heading out to go to Afghanistan on TV. None of the 3rd was going as expected; but the training was being stepped up in all areas.

Simmons sat back and rubbed his neck; did not matter what he did the bottom line was he did not have enough people; and what he did have needed more training. The QASAS were helping, but there was just so much time that he could spare his people to learn from them. Division had told him that since the 3rd was not going anywhere for a while they would not get any more 89B’s for the time being. The new class at Benning would be double the normal size, but they would all be swallowed up by other units higher on the pecking order for deployment. Already the signs were there that Iraq might be next. But not for a while. Meantime only light units were going to Afghanistan. Right now he had all he could do to support the increased training tempo. He had a meeting scheduled with the Division G4, for all intents and purposes his boss. The ordnance company was usually considered a division asset and came under division control. There were plans to change the organization of the division to make up a sustainment brigade which would have all the support units under it. Simmons was not all that sure that would help much; just another layer of command.

Simmons was well aware that as a captain he was probably the most junior officer in the room. There were a major or two, but just about everyone else was a light colonel or higher. The Divisions commanding general and his deputy commander were in attendance. This was a meeting to see what units were in what shape for a possible deployment in the next 6 months to a year. G4 was just about to give the briefing for the division support units.

Colonel Hough, 3rd Infantry Division G4, stood at the projector.
“In summation, our division support units are at a yellow level; 70% as regards manning; somewhat lower as regards training. This has been discussed before 9/11 and priority was given to other areas.” The commanding general shifted at that; he had been the one to give that order. Which was now coming to bite him on the ass. Bottom line was the division support was not ready for a deployment now; and might not be in 6 months.

“Transportation is in the best shape; it is fully green at 91%.” He then went from there to steadily decreasing numbers and readiness.

“Ordnance Company is red. It is at 50% manning; and even lower in training.”

At that the general decided enough was enough.
“OK. Division support is lousy. That is the fact of the matter. It was allowed to be that way by myself and previous commanders and that was not smart and now it’s biting us in the ass. So I want a plan to bring them all to Green levels in 6 months. Combat units that are at 95% can be raided for personnel. If you need me to lean on TRADOC or someone else for more trained personnel I want specifics. Odds are that I will not get a lot of what I want so I want to go for what is important. I want a plan in one week. That is all.”

Sometime later all the Division support unit commanders were in the conference room at G4. Hough looked at his commanders.
“In 3 days I want exactly what you need and how many. By grades and specs and MOS’s. Captain Simmons, will you remain behind?”

After they all left Hough looked at Simmons.
“You were there. The General now knows how far the Ordnance Company is down the crapper. I take it you cannot get any more 89Bs from Benning?”

“No sir. I doubt the General will be able to pry any loose without FORSCOM having to do the heavy lifting.”

“I am not sure he can get much help there for the time being. So we are going to have to make do with what we got. Just how bad is your situation?”

“You know about the 89B’s so no point in talking about them. I am lucky in that Sergeant Axton is highly experienced; and I got a new 89B that showed up on the morning of 9/11 fresh from Benning and dived right in and did a fine job. But that is it. Now as regards handlers, I am at 75%. Not too bad. If I could get a couple more that would be great. Material wise we are good. What I do need are some drivers and supply specialists who can help with the paperwork and the TAMIS systems.”

Hough had been taking notes. “OK. So what exactly do you need to go green?”

“6 Drivers; 2 handlers; 4 supply techs; and a couple of officers smart enough to learn and get out of the way of the people that already know.”

“But that still leaves the 89B’s.”

“Yes sir but that is the way it is.”

“True. Without anymore 89B’s can you really go green?”

Simmons took a deep breath and looked the Colonel in the eye.
“NO. The only way would be if when we deploy we have a LAR or QASAS in direct support. Frankly we should have one no matter what but in our situation it would be a critical need.”

Hough slowly nodded.

The Transportation Company commander was talking to his people at a hastily called meeting.
“OK people this is from division. You know the situation with the support units; they want to beef them up. We are going to be getting some more people from Combat; qualified drivers of vehicles but with very little experience in what we do. In turn I have been told that since we are full up on supply techs that we are going to have to send some drivers and techs to the Ordnance company.” The people looked at each other then at him.
“Now I am going to be honest; the odds are that any transfers that are done will be permanent. So think about that. Anyone who wants to volunteer see your sergeants first. That is all.”

Isabelle, Tess and Maria huddled up at lunch time. Maria started off.
“So what do you guys think? Want to join the bomb guys and be with Liz?”

Isabelle shrugged. “I am driving a truck no matter what. Maybe it’s not so good to be driving something that can blow up but not much change really. This company is ok but from what Liz has told us the Ordnance Company is pretty well led and would be more interesting.”

Tess nodded. “Paper work is paperwork and I do have experience at TAMIS.”

Maria smiled. “Well OK then let’s start it going. The Four Musketeers will be united once again!”

Liz knocked on the door outside of Captain Simmons office.
“You wanted to see me, Captain?”

“Come on in Liz and take a seat.”

Liz did so and waited.

“We are getting transfers in from Transportation. 4 drivers and 2 supply techs. Here are their names.” And he gave her a slip of paper. Liz read it and her eyes widened and a smile came to her face. Simmons chuckled.
“Don’t ever play poker, Liz, or you will get cleaned out.”

Liz blushed a little. “This is good news for me, Captain. And for the company. The two techs and one of the drivers I do know and they are good at what they do.”

Liz met the others for dinner that Friday night. Now two months post 9/11 and things had slowed down some though the increased training pace had been maintained. Either Liz or Sergeant Axton was on call on the weekends to handle any ammo situations that did not require a QASAS or EOD. They had traded off and this weekend Liz was free; the first one since she had gotten to Ft Stewart.

“So Chica what can we expect down there where things go boom?”

“Captain Simmons is a stand up Guy and so is Sergeant Axton. Lt Rogers is OK; Isabelle will be the only one to have any time with him. He is quiet and somewhat rough and brusque but once you show you can do your job he will leave you alone. Sergeant Smith is the office guy; he is a wiz at TAMIS and he is chained to that machine pretty much 24/7. Maria, you and Tess will be helping him out. We got a serious backlog of paperwork that has to be filled and taken care of. And we will be updating the division deployment plans in three months. That will be a load. But outside of that it should be calm. Isabelle, you will be working hard for the first month or so; but after that it will slow down.”

The girls nodded. Maria as usual had to get sidetracked.
“So any real gorgeous guys?”

They all laughed and Liz snorted. “Have not had the time to check really. But not really. I have been busy as all get out since Axton and I am the only really qualified 89Bs. The other three are space fillers. Captain Simmons specifically authorized me to sign 1348-1 issue documents despite me not being of sufficient rank. He got the Division G4 to sign off on it and even got the JAG to put in a legal opinion that since we do not have any more 89B’s then the situation is similar to combat.”

Tess looked shocked. “Wow. That is something else.”

The other two agreed. Liz shrugged. “Captain Simmons told me that he and the division G4 were doing it this way so that if someone made a stink, they could force those same someone’s to explain why we were refused any more 89Bs and were told to stop even asking. That would turn the blowtorch right up the ladder all the way to FORSCOM and above.”

Maria shook her head. “Why is it so hard to get any more, Liz?”

“I called up the instructor I knew at Ft Benning and talked to one of the QASAS here. They both told me the same thing. The Army has ignored ammunition for 20 years; they downgraded the importance of ammo specs to the point that PR personnel are considered more important. So no one ever wants to go into it. You do not get any gongs or any help in getting promotions if you are an 89B. And they still refuse to flat out assign people and tell them that they are going to be an 89B and to like it. Until they do this is what is going to happen.”

Isabelle snorted. “Until they go to war and it all hits the fan and they scream for more,that will not happen.”

“Yep.”

That weekend all four went shopping in Savannah, and wandered around to see the sights. It was the most fun Liz had had in a very long time. The situation being what it was, Liz had not been able to get any leave over Christmas. So Nancy had come over to spend time with her. It was a good time.

Gradually things got better in the Ordnance Company. They were brought up to strength, or close to it, in all areas except 89B. Over the next several months, the divisional support units crept closer and closer to green level. By the time the 6 month point had been reached, it was done. But it had been close.

Captain Simmons had just gotten back from a meeting at Division and had called ahead for all his senior people to be waiting in his office. Lt Rogers, Sergeants Axton and Smith, and Liz were wondering what was going on. Rogers, as usual, was pessimistic.
“Divisional Parade. They want lots of firecrackers.”

Simmons came in and told Liz to close the door. Then he sat at his desk.
“The General has decided to run a sudden divisional exercise; to see what shape the division would be if we can a sudden notice to deploy the entire division. We will be loading trucks and moving supplies and everyone will draw all equipment. Which means divisional support carries the can. This is really designed to see what shape Divisional support is in since we are supposedly in the green now. The warning will hit at 0800 tomorrow morning. Get ready people, but DO not tell anyone outside this office.”

Liz stood outside for a bit; it was early March and just starting to warm up; luckily the weather looked good for the next several days. She had been over time coming up with plans if something like this happened; now she would see how good those plans were.

Liz had quietly told Isabelle that tomorrow would be busy; she got the message; she did the same with Maria and Tess. Not giving them any specifics that evening.

Liz forced herself to do regular work that next morning. Then the alarm went off like it had those months ago.

“People we have a divisional deployment order. Let’s get cracking.”

Over the next 12 hours there was bedlam. Liz and Sergeant Axton camped out at the ASP. By 1700 they had loaded over 100 trucks with close to 2000 tons of ammunition and so far nothing had been damaged and nothing had been dropped. The trucks were then moved to a holding area and secured for the night. The rest of the base once again looked like a kicked over beehive. At 2200 the General decided he had seen enough and called the exercise finished.

Liz sat down exhausted on a batch of empty pallets. They had brought out portable lights for the ASP. She looked at Sergeant Axton.
“What do you think?”

He shrugged. “We did fine; exceeded requirements. How the rest of the division did, who knows.”

Sometime later Captain Simmons came by.
“Lock up the mags. We are done. Be back by 0600 tomorrow morning; we have to put all that back in the bunkers.”

Liz rode with Axton back to the office, almost asleep. Isabelle stopped by and picked her, Maria and Tess up and they grabbed a quick bite to eat and then flopped into bed at their quarters. To Liz it seemed like she had barely hit the pillow when the alarm went off. Maria groaned and muttered something about killing that clock as she hid under her pillow. But they dragged themselves out and got to the office at 0600. Liz headed to the ASP and got to work. It was not until 1500 that they got the last of the trucks unloaded and the ammo into the magazines. Then it took another hour to finish everything else so that people could be done. The whole company gathered at the office.

Captain Simmons looked around. “The Ordnance company passed with flying colors; we got it done ahead of time coming and going. No breakage or accidents or injuries. Head off people; you did well.”

By consensus they all trooped to the mess hall and ate then back to the rooms and crashed. They were all sound asleep by 1800.

The next day Liz was sitting in her office; she actually did not have much paperwork to do since she had taken it with her and did it in every free moment during the last two days. Sergeant Axton stuck his head in the door.
“The Captain wants to see us.”

Liz noticed it was just the three of them in the office. Axton closed the door.
“Liz, I want to say you did a real fine job. You hit this post running and have not slowed down. 6 months and you have exceeded all expectations. So I have put you in for promotion to E4. I do not think it will take any time at all.”

Liz smiled. “Thank you Captain.”

“You earned it. Now there might be some sniping from some others – ignore it. You have this promotion coming. The preliminary report from Division is that we just barely overall got it done; but it was close and some areas failed. Overall the General is not too mad; but he wants better. We did very well so we will probably get some recognition. That is how I plan to work your promotion.”

Liz was smiling at lunch that day. The others noticed it.
“OK, Chica, spill. What has got you floating on air?”

“I am getting promoted again.”

The other three looked surprised but not shocked. Tess was first.
“You earned it Liz. You are doing the job of about three people and you do it well.”

Isabelle was next. “Definitely. Actually six months is not that fast, really. Though of course you got that jump getting here.”

Maria grinned. “Going to be a lifer, Liz?”

Liz sat back with a pensive face. They all realized that she was actually thinking about it.
“You know, I have not thought about it, but that is actually a possibility. But I have not even been in one year yet. This has been a real good posting for me; a great Sergeant and a good Captain. Good people mostly around me. You guys here. In 5 years I might be counting the days if I reupped and got a lousy assignment. So who knows? But I have to admit that something one year ago that I would not have considered for a moment actually seems like it might be possible.”

Liz had not been spending much; and frankly had not had the opportunity if she had wanted to. She was starting to accumulate some nice savings. She had been considering getting a small car to wander around in. She went out with the girls in Isabelle’s car so the need had not been there. But she had to consider the future. Living on post, with very few expenses, she had been able to save almost $1000 a month. She could buy a decent small car outright. At this rate in 4 years she would have enough to do an instate college 4 year program with help from the GI Bill. But she still did not have an idea what she wanted to do. Nothing seemed to jump out at her. The other girls had been looking at getting an apartment off post. Liz frankly did not feel the need. Maybe it was working so hard; maybe growing up in Worland had made her so self-sufficient that the idea of moving into town away from the base just did not seem necessary.

Liz continued to think about this over the next few months. The Divisional Support companies got better and the general did not call for another exercise. But the situation with Iraq began to get more and more serious and the signs were there that it might be next. And this was a campaign where it was almost a given that the 3rd would be deployed. It was just a matter of how much of the division would go. As time went by it began to look like the whole division would be going.

By October, it was no surprise when the word quietly went down that they would be deployed starting in January. The division would go to Kuwait, then go into Iraq from there. Liz was glad she had put off getting a car.

It was no secret but no one talked about it much. They just began to get ready. It was let out that the deployment would begin right after New Years. Liz then got leave approved to visit her mother.

The day before Liz left to visit her mother, the 21st of December, she looked around her office. Captain Simmons had let her know that her promotion to E5 would come just before they began to deploy. Liz was not all that sure she wanted this latest one; she would be a sergeant, and really in the supervisory chain. Which meant more paperwork. They still had not gotten anymore 89B’s; but the company was otherwise at full strength. Sergeant Axton had told her with a smirk that they were promised two more at least by May. Of course by then they would be in Iraq almost certainly. Not likely they would actually get them where they needed them.

Nancy Parker looked across the kitchen table at her daughter. Elizabeth had grown in confidence and assurance; Liz had made sure that she kept up a strict workout regimen; she might be fitter than she had ever been before. Her baby was grown up now; even if she was only 19. Liz had told her they would be deploying to Kuwait in January; waiting to head into Iraq. Her baby was going to war. Nancy Parker had never been particularly religious; but now she was praying daily.

The Day before she left, December 27, 2002, Liz Parker walked outside of the little house in Worland, Wyoming. It was not too cold by Worland Standards; only 5 degrees. Above zero. Not a lot of wind. It was a bleak but beautiful land. Liz walked around a little; sniffed the cold air. Then went back into the house.

The official order came down on 7 January, 2003. The entire division would deploy to Kuwait. They had already made the plans and gone over them several times. Time to put them into effect.

Within 2 weeks a lot of work had been done; the Ordnance Company had managed to squeeze a fair amount of ammo onto the planes carrying equipment and men. Liz had carefully gone over the regulations of military air in contingency operations; and had suggested to Captain Simmons that every vehicle going over have its combat load on board. He had taken that to G4, who told the general that would be one way to make sure the division had a fair amount of ammo of its own ready to go. The general had taken the ball and run with it to FORSCOM then CENTCOM. And they had agreed. The Air Force raised hell but was told to sit down and shut up. But that made the job of the ordnance company a lot tougher as they were tasked with making sure that every vehicle with ammo on board had all the necessary paperwork and the load was properly packaged when necessary and secure. Liz spent every day, virtually, at the Air Field checking vehicles and loads off of the master list that Maria and Tess had made up.

Liz had learned a lot about ammunition in the past year; she haunted the offices of the QASAS (one of whom would indeed as promised deploy with the division) trying to cram in as much as she could. Both QASAS had told her that if she wanted to get out, she would have no trouble being a QASAS. Liz had thought about that; it was a possibility.

By February 21, they were on their way to Iraq. Liz had quietly been able to avoid the Anthrax vaccines with a little help from the health clinic; she wanted no part of that mess. Captain Simmons and Sergeant Axton had agreed and had also managed to wiggle out of them. Same with Maria and Tess and Isabelle.

They had gotten together the day before Isabelle would be going; Maria and Tess would follow soon after; Liz last making sure that as much ammo as they could fit on board would be coming with them.

They had gone off post into Savannah to a nice restaurant Isabelle had found. It was a fairly quiet meal. All four of them were well aware that life was about to get a whole lot less safer. Finally Maria had offered a toast with the Champagne they had ordered.
“To the Four Musketeers. When this is over and we are back, we will be back here drinking the same year of Champagne.”

Kuwait was dusty but not too hot; and very dry. February 28, 2003 was normal for Kuwait. This was the 12 th Anniversary of the end of the first war with Iraq. Now they were going to finish the job. The camp that the third had set up was one huge community of tents. Liz looked around the command tent for the ordnance company.
“The scary thing is guys, that this might be the most comfortable we will get for a long time to come.”

Maria threw a ball of paper at her.
“Thank you, SERGEANT, for your work on uplifting the moral of your people.”

They steadily worked towards getting the units ready to go. There was not a lot of room for all the ammo that they had ready to go; they barely had the required distance to the camps from the temporary ASP that had been set up. It was tentatively thought that sometime after the 18th of March would be the go date. The Air Force would drop a lot before the ground pounders went in.
Liz checked the paperwork one more time then looked up at the clock. It was midnight on the 19th of March. It would not be long. The 3rd was as ready as it could be. The ASP would remain in Kuwait until the 3rd was at least 50 miles into Iraq. Then they would move half way to the front. Then would wait until the 3rd got to Baghdad before moving again. The hope was they would only have to move the ASP twice, but Liz was skeptical. One thing about being deployed; in one respect things got simpler. The ordnance company only had to move the ASP and set it up and issue from it. While the war was going on they would not be receiving much back. And they would not be worrying about residue. They would not have to actually transport the ammunition to the front.

Then they heard the first bombs going off. All four of them left the tent; in the distance you could see the flashes and hear the thuds. After a while they went back inside and got back to work.

It took 10 days before the ASP moved. Just after the big sandstorm, the ASP moved into Iraq. It took 2 days almost around the clock to do it; they were completely exhausted by the time it was done. Liz and the others curled up in a tent and slept like logs for 12 hours. Liz found herself strangely calm about entering Iraq. They had a full company of Infantry plus a company of Abrams watching over them as they moved the whole ASP in one convoy of almost 100 vehicles. And a squadron of Apache’s overhead. It had been decided to keep at least 3 days full balls to the wall war unit of issue ammo with the ASP. Which was probably a lot more than they would need but it was a case of better too much than not enough.

10 days later they moved again, nearer to Baghdad. It was decided that they would stay there for the time being. As it turned out they stayed for longer than that. It had always been decided that a clear area, near a major road but not in or near any village or town was the best place to be. And that is what they did. Milvans and Hescos were brought in and burms bulldozed to separate the various loads. The QASAS directed the operation; Liz taking lots of notes. In three days they had almost 4000 tons of ammunition there. For the next week they worked at getting everything going smoothly. The 3rd was driving on Baghdad, and it was thought that it would be about a week before the city would be taken; if there was no desperate house to house defence.

April 9 the 3rd was right at the city gates; Liz was listening to some reports coming in at the command tent. The feeling was that this would not last much longer. Then Captain Simmons came in.
“Liz, they want a pile of ammunition moved to this point” showing her the map coordinates “they are going to be moving west with the 3rd brigade. They want a field ASP here.”
Liz looked at the map then at him. “How much is a pile?”

“A full unit of issue for the brigade.”

Liz winced. That was a pile. The paperwork alone would be fun. But they had plans for field ASP’s; Liz had just hoped they would not be building any.

She tracked down the QASAS and he shook his head as well; but pulled out the plans and they looked at them. Sergeant Axton came by and told Liz that she would be the ASP rep there. He and the Captain had to stay with the main ASP. Liz nodded; a little nervous but she felt she was ready.

2 days later another massive convoy was going down the road; over 50 heavy trucks loaded with artillery and mortar ammunition; machine gun and rifle bullets; 40MM grenades for the machine guns and the M203’s; demolition equipment as well just in case they had to blow it all up and run. Once they got to the spot Liz decided to do it quick and dirty; they had brought a bulldozer with them and some engineers. Going right from the plan Liz had them throw up burms all around the field ASP then burms in the middle and to the sides. She checked the distances carefully to make sure they had the necessary distance so that if one pile went up they all would not go up. The guard force put up concertina all around and set up MGs and firing pits just in case. Liz had grabbed every available milvan and luckily had just enough; she would use them as bunkers. The QASAS came by and signed off on everything; suggesting that they cover the milvans in sand. That was done the next day. By Afternoon of that day Liz was issuing ammunition.

Running a Field ASP singlehanded, just about, Liz found herself busier than a dog with three cats to chase. She slept in the command tent, curled up on a scrounged air mattress; she did not need much in the way of blankets as the area was getting warm even in the night. MRE’s were getting old but there was nothing else.

It took the third brigade about a week to finish things off; by that time Baghdad had fallen and things were starting to quiet down. One thing Liz was grateful for was that there were no civilians around. They had fled the area. With the end of major combat operations, Liz found the pressure easing. That was when they started to take sniper fire and the like. So much for things quieting down.

It was more annoying than a threat; the snipers were really lousy shots. They had to fire at such a distance that they barely came close to anyone. Liz just hoped they did not get their hands on any mortars and figure out how to use them. For herself, since the command tent was right in the middle of the field ASP and surrounded by burms, she was not threatened at all. Now if they started to drop mortar rounds in that would be different. She got the engineers to bring in a few steel culverts and had them placed next to the central burms; and then cover the center part with sand. If they had enough warning, they could shimmy into those culverts and be reasonably safe.

Even though she was lonely for her friends, Liz was glad they were safe at the main ASP. She saw Isabelle every other day or so when they brought in more ammo for the Field ASP; but once operations stopped there were no more runs.

Finally on the 28th of April, she was told to prepare to pull back to the main ASP. Glad to hear of it, she got cracking. They found 40 trucks which was enough to take most of it. But that left about 5 trucks worth. So one convoy went off while Liz and a few others waited for them to come back. Looking around, it was decided to not destroy the place; they might need it later. That evening she got word that a transportation company from the 4th ID would finish it off since their own company was busy. Something about that bothered Liz but she did not know what it was. She found out the next day.

Lt Knox was an arrogant idiot. He started telling the troops just to toss the ammo on the truck and Liz faced him down.

“Sergeant I am giving you an order.”

“Lt, do you want to be court-martialed? Because if you do just keep it up. This ammo will be properly secured.”

Knox made noise but backed down. Liz noticed several members of the company given her the high sign for a job well done. Liz was even more worried now. Finally at 5 PM they were ready and headed out. Riding in the lead Truck, Liz looked around.
“Where is the escort?”

The Driver looked at her. “He sent them ahead.”

Liz got a bad feeling.

Just a few miles down the road the lead vehicle with the Lt in it blew up. Liz did not know it but this would later be thought to be the first IED.

Liz got out of the truck, keeping her M4 close at hand; she had made sure she got one with the 40MM M203 and kept plenty of ammo and grenades nearby. The driver was right next to her. Liz grabbed her radio and called back to the rear truck.
“Jose, what is the situation back there?”

“Sarge, we are taking fire.”

Liz shook her head. Ambush. The Iraqi’s had seen no escort and had moved in. Shame the LT was already dead or Liz would have shot him herself. There was a Hummer with a 40MM MG in it halfway back. It was the most powerful vehicle left. Pulling the driver with her and the others as she crouched and crabwalked down the convoy, she got them all to the Hummer. She took a quick look around the flat terrain then up to the Hummer.
“Pull out and head over to that section over there. Spread the fire around. We will gather there once you make sure it was clear.” The little hill was about 200 yds away from the road. The hummer moved at about 10MPH, spraying 40MM HE all around the area. Liz sat and thought for a minute. Then grabbing two of the drivers she went to the second to last truck.
“Use your knives and cut the straps. Those rear boxes are claymores. We might need them. Those boxes over there are 40MM for the MG. Grab them as well.”

They dashed over to where the hummer was. The guys carrying the boxes made good time. She had them start to unpack. She told the gunner and driver to get out of the Hummer; it was not armored so they were sitting targets. She was glad to see two other M4’s with 203’s. The other drivers had also grabbed two boxes of 5.56 and two boxes of 40MM for the 203’s. The hill was perfect for defense; it was actually the remains of an old stone house of some kind. The center was depressed which allowed them to gather inside.

Liz tried the radio to get the ASP but got nothing; it was out of range. Good thing the weather was clear and there was a full moon. She had a hunch they would be there for a while.

They had not heard anything for a while when there was a woosh and the rear truck gushed flame. Liz shook her head. RPG. In the next 20 minutes all the trucks went up. In the gathering dusk that was not so bad since there was plenty of light. Right after the last truck was hit the ammunition in the first truck hit began to explode; and they heard some screams. Too bad guys. Liz decided to act. She directed several of the drivers to creep out and set up the claymores as she showed them how to do it. They had 24; she set them up so that she had two rings around their position. That took a while; and it was dark except for the burning trucks. Explosions kept coming now and then; she had a hunch until that stopped the Iraqi’s would not move in. She was glad she had remembered to tell the last driver to grab all the water he could. They would need it.

Back at the ASP Captain Simmons was on the radio to Brigade; they had a convoy of trucks overdue. He looked out as it got darker then looked at Sergeant Axton.
“This is bad.”

It was almost 10; Liz wondered how long it would be before someone came to look for them. They were about 20 miles from the ASP down a fairly wide road. If they had serious combat power they could just come straight. She kept talking quietly to the other drivers. As it turned out the only other Sergeant had been with the Lt. She was in full command of herself and 14 soldiers.

Brigade was waking up; no one here wanted another Jessica Lynch situation. The Brigade commander contacted the only unit available; a company of Abrams that was normally the main heavy backup for the ASP.
“Captain, I have called in a Spectre to look around; but head down that road ASAP. It will call you as soon as it is on scene.”

“Understood Colonel.”

Maria, Isabelle and Tess stared at the Abrams heading down the road. Maria said what they all felt.
“God please let them get to Liz in time.”

The trucks had burned down and the explosions had stopped. Liz had carefully checked the 40MM that she had for the M203’s and was glad that they were all HE. She intended to use them up fast if the Iraqi’s rushed them. Then they started to take fire. She designated 6 men in pairs to watch the perimeter on three sides; she and the other 8 watched towards the front and the burned out convoy. The ground was so open and the moon was full; it would be very hard for them to creep up on them. The best way was for them to rush from the cover the burned out trucks gave them. She had a plan for that. She knew they would be watching for someone to use the 40MM on the Hummer. It was exposed and any gunner would not last long.

After about 20 minutes the fire got heavier. She then sighted using M203 and motioned for the other 3 to do the same. They each fired a HE right into the base if trucks. They all hit where they were supposed to and screams came through the night as the shrapnel bit into the Iraqi’s. The fire stopped. The screams slowly became moans, then became silent.

The Company commander of the Abrams wanted to go full bore but he had to take it slow; about 10-15 MPH, using their infrared night sites. He hoped the spectre contacted him soon.

One of the men behind her called softly.
“Sarge, I can see a few trying to come at us from behind.”

Liz crawled back to the rear. It took a minute but she spotted them. She looked around but could not see any others. They were not quite together. She pulled two of the other M203 launchers beside her and she pointed them out. Then to the others she said.
“Get ready. We are going to hit them with HE and then you unload on them. I not only want to kill them; I want them to get squashed. That should buy us some more time.”

Liz took her time aiming. Then she fired, remembering to close her eyes after she pulled the trigger. Two of the four were hit by the HE; they stood up screaming. The other two tried to run but were cut down. The two wounded were rolling on the ground, screaming. One of her men started to raise his weapon but Liz stopped him.
“Them screaming will have an effect on the others.”

The Spectre had finally found the Convoy; it was still smoldering; but the infrared showed a group nearby. Then it saw the HE rounds.
“Spectre to Advance; the convoy has burned but we have survivors to the west about 200 yards. They just toasted a few.”

“Advance to Spectre; how far from us?”

“About 10 miles. I see nothing on the road between you and them.”

“10-4, Spectre, we will expedite.”

Liz knew they were about to try something again. She was detecting signs all around. They were going to rush. Well she had the claymores; they were wired so that each side could be fired twice. She pulled everyone into the middle.
“OK people they will try a rush. I will use the claymores. Jones you take this side; Russel this side; Adams that side. I will take this side. Wait until they get close and fire once.”

She had the 203’s one to each side. They would fire HE that would give them some cover.

15 minutes later they came from all sides. Almost simultaneously there were blasts on all four sides and more Iraqi’s screamed. Then Liz ordered HE. A couple more were killed. Then it got quiet as the last groans were silenced as Liz ordered all the bodies shot again.

The Spectre commander wandered what they were using down there besides the grenades. Whatever they had was working. They had counted over 40 bodies around the position. He had almost opened fire when they detected the infiltration; but whoever was in command down there knew what they were doing.

Liz wondered what was next. It was almost 2200; where was the relief?


“Spectre, this is advance. We are about 2 miles from your position on the map. Confirm.”

“Advance, we see you. We will drop flares in 5 minutes.

Liz looked around – she thought she heard something. Then she looked up; she could just barely see something – it looked like a large airplane.

Suddenly the night was gone; several flares were falling; it was almost as bright as mid day. Blinking, Liz looked around. Then she knew what had happened. A Spectre had dropped flares. She sat back.
“People Stay down. Don’t get yourselves shot now.”

Then for the first time in hours the radio squawked.

“Convoy, this is Company A of the 1st Armor brigade. We are coming up to you – we are about one mile away and closing. Spectre will continue to drop flares.”

Liz closed her eyes for a minute. Then keyed the mike.
“Company A, glad to see you. Come on ahead. Has spectre given you our position?”

“10-4, Convoy. We know where you are. Just sit right there and we will pick you up.”

“10-4 Company A.”

There were prayers and several of men were unashamedly weeping; as was Liz.
“Guys when the tankers get close let’s fire off the last of the claymores. Throw everything in the hummer and we will either take it with us or blow it up.”

The tankers came up and several of them flanked Liz’s position just in case.

“Company A, we have some claymores that we will fire to prevent capture. We also have an operational hummer. DO we bring it or blow it?”

“Convoy, Blow it. We will partial you guys out one to a tank and make a speed run back.”

“Sounds good, Company A. Blowing claymores now.”

They blew the claymores and then waited until the tanks got close. The guys ran, one to a tank. Liz waited until they were all safe then fired her M203 into the Hummer; it started to burn as she dashed to the lead tank. She leapt up onto the turret and the figure there pointed down the hatch. Liz had never been in an Abrams before; it was kind of cramped once the captain had closed the hatch.

“Captain James. How many did you lose?”

“Sergeant Parker. Just the stupid LT that caused all of this and his sergeant in the lead truck. Not sure if it was a mine or a RPG. No one else was even wounded.”

“Well that is a whole lot better than we could have hoped. Looks like you racked up a pretty good body count from what the Spectre said.”

Liz grimaced. “Yeah I guess. All I cared about was getting everyone back safe.”

The captain thought he had rarely seen a cuter sergeant. He contacted the ASP to let them know the good news.

Captain Simmons grabbed for the mike. “This is ASP, come in Company A.”

“This is company A. We have them all. Sergeant Parker reports two KIA; the LT and his sergeant. No other wounds. ETA about 30 minutes.”

Captain Simmons sat down hard. “We owe you Company A.”

“Glad to be of assistance.”

Maria and the others were all crying. They had feared the worst.

Riding in an Abrams was an experience; all that metal moving at a speed that Liz bet was near 50MPH. Kind of bumpy to say the least. She just held on.

The Brigade commander sat down and took a deep breath. That had been close. Whoever was in command there had done real well. He looked at his XO.
“Division is going to want to know what happened. Why the hell that convoy had no escort. I want you down there in the morning asking questions. And I want answers.”

Division indeed wanted answers. Word about the convoy had gotten out to the reporters; normally they did not have much to do with the support companies so not many hung around there. What had happened with the Jessica Lynch convoy was still reverberating around the commands. No Convoy went any distance without serious escort. This one had violated that rule large. Division wanted scalps.

Liz started to hop off the tank then hesitated, turned to the tank Commander and laid a big one on him, to the cheers of the gathered crowd. She hopped down and was engulfed by Maria, Tess and Isabelle. Liz felt as good at that moment as she had ever had in her entire life. After they let her go she walked up to Captain Simmons and saluted.
“ Sir, regret to inform you that all the ammunition in that convoy was lost. But I do have the paperwork so we can account for all of it. None of our vehicles were in the convoy. I was the only person from our company there. The only losses were the Lt of the transportation company and his sergeant.”

Simmons returned her salute. “Good Job Parker. Now I want you to get in the command tent and write up your report while it’s still fresh. Do not leave out any detail no matter what.”

Drinking a cold coke and knawing on a MRE cookie, Liz went over everything that happened from the time the first convoy left until she hopped into the tank. She decided to tone down the conflict with the Lt as regards strapping down the ammunition. But left nothing else out. That took about an hour. Maria and the others were right with her. As soon as she was done she gave the report to the Captain and they all puppy pilled in one of the tents and were asleep in minutes.

Captain Simmons and Sergeant Axton went over the report. After they had both read it Captain Simmons sat back.
“Well it’s a good thing that Lt is dead or he would be fried anyway.”

Axton nodded. “Total moron. Broke every rule in the book and no common sense as well.” The two men then sacked out for the rest of the night.

Liz groaned as she slowly woke up. She could tell it was daylight; she was alone in the tent. The others had been careful not to wake her; but Liz figured it would have taken the crack of doom to have broken into her sleep that night. Feeling seriously grungy she wobbled out of the tent and visited the nearest portapotty.

Lt Colonel James, Brigade XO, had arrived at the ASP at 0800. Captain Simmons gave him the report Liz had written. He read it and shook his head. Then he made it a point to talk to the Company A commander. He had been given a copy of the report filed by the Spectre commander. Then he talked to Simmons.
“Well it seems straightforward. That Lt is better off dead then what he would be going through now. Though I am willing to bet there would have been no survivors if he had not been killed right off the bat. I want to talk to Sergeant Parker.”

“We let her sleep in this morning sir.”

“Well she earned it. Have the other survivors given their statements?”

“They are doing that right now Sir.”

Liz stopped by the mess tent and got something to eat; the heated MRE’s were better but not that much. She really wanted a shower but knew she should check in at the command tent. The arrival of a portable shower just 10 days ago had been a huge morale booster.

The Colonel and the Captain were quietly talking when Liz walked into the tent.

Colonel James took a good look at Sergeant Parker. Tiny thing, cute as a button, dirty as all get out. There was fire in her eyes, though. She came to attention and saluted.

“At east, Sergeant. This should only take a few minutes, then you can catch a shower and a change of uniform. I have read your report. I have just one question: did the Lt give any reason why he had released the escort?”

“None sir. Actually I did not notice until we were moving.”

“I have talked to the escort commander and chewed him a new one. He should NOT have left even if the vehicles were not leaving. There was not enough security there.”

Liz bit her lip but stayed quiet.

“Well Sergeant I can definitely say this. You conducted yourself professionally and well. You took charge of a cluster not of your own making and got almost everyone out in one piece. Now go on and get cleaned up.”

Liz saluted and got out of there. She hit the portable shower in 15 minutes and stayed there as long as she could stand it. Then got on clean underwear and a fairly clean uniform. Then headed back to the tent where Maria and Tess were working on the never ending paper work.

After Liz left the Colonel shook his head.
“Tiny thing. But a real soldier. You say she has been pretty much overachieving since she got to Stewart?”

“Yes sir. She got in on 9/11 and was helping out at the ASP even before in processing. She had been a Section leader at Basic; and top student in her 89B class. She certainly has excelled here as well.”

“That is an understatement. Well Division will want this report ASAP. The Newsies have heard about it; I am surprised none have shown up here. All I need to do is collect the statements of the other survivors.”

Sergeant Axton came into the tent with some papers. “Here are the other statements, Colonel.”

“Thank you sergeant. Did they have anything to say off the record?”

“No sir. Every single one of them believes they are alive only because Sergeant Parker was there. And none of them had any respect at all for the LT.”

Colonel James sighed. “Well the good thing is that he was to blame; so no court martial or anything else. Now the commander of that escort company is going to get a reprimand for leaving. But that is relatively minor. He was ordered to go by the LT who was senior. So this report should be relatively straightforward.”

Liz was in the office tent working on paperwork when Sergeant Axton poked his head in.
“Liz, the other survivors are leaving to go back to their FOB. They want to say goodbye.”

Liz walked out to face the 14 soldiers she had led.
“Guys, cannot say it was a great time. But we are all here and in one piece. Keep your heads down and good luck.”

All 14 stood at attention and saluted her which she returned. Then Jose piped up.
“Sarge, any time you need a favor and we are around, give us a call.”

Liz grinned at them. “Thanks, guys.”

A man in BDU’s but no insignia was quietly watching this. Sergeant Axton spotted him and went over. He right away realized he was a reporter.

“And who might you be?”

“Carl Longon. Atlanta Journal-Constitution. I am embedded with the 3rd ID. Sergeant, you do realize this is going to be a big story?”

Sergeant Axton sighed and took the reporter in to see the Captain.

Longon could smell a big story; this could be huge. As more facts got out about the Jessica Lynch story, it had gotten fuzzy and not so great. But this one looks straight as an arrow.

Captain Simmons managed to not say much to the reporter. He told the reporter that he could not talk to Sergeant Parker until after the investigation concluded.

Division had just gotten Colonel James report. The Division PR officer looked it over. He looked at his XO.
“This is going to blow the Jessica Lynch story right out of the water. No need to embellish it. No false heroics.”

The Division commander finished reading the report and looked at his XO.
“We have to handle this carefully. That stupid LT screwed the pooch and got himself and his sergeant killed. We should not try and cover that up. But at the same time Sergeant Parker really stood tall. Which is kind of funny since I hear she is a tiny thing.”

His XO nodded. “We are getting enquiries from all sorts of media. CENTCOM will want this report ASAP.”

“I think an award for Heroism under combat is due Sergeant Parker. Check the requirements and see what is warranted. Let’s not get too crazy. Make sure no one is talking the Congressional.”

“Yes sir.”

Oblivious to all of this Liz worked away at the never ending paperwork went through the milvans and storage pads to make sure things were straight. The QASAS stopped by to congratulate her on making it back in one piece. He was the first to mention to her that the whole escapade was starting to get widely known.

Captain Simmons hoped that Division would keep the press of their necks; they really did not need the hassle. Units were starting to turn in their excess ammunition as regards mortar and artillery ammunition. Everyone was keeping their light stuff, though.

That evening Liz was able to get out an email on the company net; it was tricky but possible. She wanted her mother to know that she was fine; things had gotten a little nasty for a while but she was ok.

Nancy Parker had been hanging onto the news every day; the fall of Baghdad and the general lowering of combat was a relief. But she still worried. Then Liz got an email to her and she was relaxed for a while.

Carl Longon was frustrated; he had been stonewalled so far due to the so called investigation. But he had been able to hear enough to be sure of what happened. He decided to get it out and filled his story with the Division PR office. He was not going to try and sneak it out. He was just glad none of the networks had picked up on it yet. He would have been much less happy to hear that was not true.

The Fox news network News Director was discussing what he had just been told by the Fox reporter with the 3rd ID.
“We do not want this to be like the Jessica Lynch mess. Is this fully confirmed?”

“Not officially on record. But I have talked to the PR officer who read the official report. And I have not heard anything that contradicts it. It’s actually pretty straightforward. They had a field ASP that they were closing down that had been supporting one of the Brigades. Most of the ammunition and personnel were pulled out; then the trucks were delayed as regards unloading so a transportation company from the 4th ID was called in to finish the job. Everything I have heard says the LT was an idiot and an asshole. He sent the escort off more than an hour ahead of the convoy. Huge mistake. If he had not been killed he would almost certainly be facing a courtmartial. He and his sergeant were in the lead vehicle and got killed by what they think was an RPG. Sergeant Parker was senior NCO left. She quickly took command and got the drivers away from the convoy and found a defensible position nearby. She had the drivers pull out some claymore mines and other ammunition. They had a hummer with a 40MM grenade mg. But that was not used much; they are not armored and in a situation like that the gunner would have been meat on the table for any halfway good shot on the other side. To make a longer story shorter, she held the position, the Spectre gunship that came to help out reported that they think there were are least 40 bodies of insurgents around the convoy. A company of Abrams came in and got them out about 6 hours after they had been hit.”

“OK. This is big. We will go with it for the Morning news tomorrow.”

Captain Simmons was talking to the commander of the company that had gone back down the road to look over the remains of the convoy and hopefully retrieve the bodies of the LT and Sergeant. They had been successful.

“Well Captain, we found exactly 61 bodies around that convoy.”

Captain Simmons shook his head. Remarkable.

That reaction was pretty much the same all the way past Brigade to Division to CENTCOM.

The Division PR officer talked to the Division Commander.
“Had to let that report go through, sir. No reason to delay it. And the networks will be on it by tomorrow at the latest.”

Meanwhile at the main office of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution the editor was going over Longon’s story. He looked at the News chief.
“Can we find a way to contact Parkers parents?”

“We are working on that now, boss.”

Nancy Parker had just gotten home when the phone range.
“Yes?”

“Is this the Parker residence?”

“Yes it is?”

“Would I be talking to the mother of Sergeant Elizabeth Parker of the 3rd Infantry division?”

Nancy was worried- very worried.
“Who is this?”

“This is the news editor of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. We have a story out of Iraq concerning your daughter. She is fine. But it appears she is a hero as well.”

Nancy sat down slowly. “Liz sent me an email yesterday that she was fine but that something had happened but she did not give any details.”

“Well, Mrs Parker let me read you the story just sent in by our reporter embedded with the 3rd ID.”

Nancy sat for a long minute. “Liz originally wanted to go into the military for the benefits and because she was not sure what she wanted to do. She got to Ft Stewart on the morning of 9/11. I am not sure but she seems quite happy in the Army.”

“Thank you Mrs Parker and you should be very proud of your daughter.”

The editor looked over at the transcript and told the news director to make sure it was on Page 1. Longon had been able to find out that there were the bodies of 61 insurgents found around the convoy. That was added to the story.

The paper hit the streets at 5 AM that next morning. FOX News led off with the story at 9AM eastern.
“This just in from Iraq. A supply convoy was attacked; this was very much like the Jessica Lynch situation but with a major difference. Mainly due to the actions of 20 year old Sergeant Elizabeth Parker of the Ordnance Company of the 3rd ID. When the lead vehicle was blown up, killing the officer in charge, Sergeant Parker took command and led a successful defense that led to all the other personnel in the convoy getting back alive and unhurt; and killing over 60 enemy soldiers. Details to follow.”

The division commander looked at the report his XO had given him.
“Now are you sure this is warranted.”

“Non combat sergeant. Not in a command chain or trained for it. Sudden combat situation. Took command and not only preserved her command but inflicted severe casualties on the enemy. Made sure that nothing was captured that could be used. Even came back with the paperwork identifying everything that had been lost. Her actions were inspired and innovative. Frankly for someone with no combat training or experience, remarkable. Sir I agree that this Award is high; but it is warranted. A Silver Star is not quite worthy of this action. It lasted for hours – not minutes.”

“Very well. I will sign off on this and send it up to CENTCOM.”

2 hours later CENTCOM’s commander was looking at that report. He looked at his XO. “Check this out line by line. I agree with it but try and pick it apart. After the Jessica Lynch mess we have to be careful. I am sending this up to the Chairman and the Secretary of Defense.”

Maria was gasping. “No way!”

Isabelle nodded. “When I was at the FOB they were talking about it. The Atlanta newspaper broke it then FOX News put it all over the world. Liz is a genuine Hero!”

Captain Simmons got off the radio. He looked at Sergeant Axton.
“It’s true. It is the lead story on FOX. The good thing is that outside of the embedded reporters, no one else will be allowed to come down and bother us.”

Jose and several other drivers were talking to their embedded reporter for the 4th ID. He had been able to track them down and get to them before their commander knew about it.

Jose was blunt. “Sergeant Parker saved our butts. That dumbshit Lt would have gotten us all killed.”

The others all agreed. The reporter scribbled down his notes.

He had been working with the FOX reporters and gave them what he had. His own story was filled and on its way up the chain.

“This is Fox news with the latest from Iraq. The story of Sergeant Elizabeth Parker grows more interesting. We have been able to uncover word that the Lt who was in command of the transportation unit and the convoy, had deliberately sent off the Escort so that convoy was all but unprotected. He had also tried to force Sergeant Parker, an 89B specialist which means she is trained in ammunition supply and movement, to just allow the vehicles to go without securing the ammunition and explosives. A very big violation of Army regulations. She stood her ground and forced him to back off. Which for the tiny Sergeant speaks volumes. We have been able to talk to some of the other drivers who maintained that the LT was an incompetent; and they have flatly stated that he would have gotten all of them killed if he had remained in command after the convoy was attacked. Speculation is growing that Sergeant Parker will be the first woman decorated for combat achievements. It’s only a question of what it will be. Early speculation has it at around a Silver Star; though some think that is inadequate. We will stay on this story.”

The Secretary of Defense and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff looked at the report. SECDEF looked at the General.
“What do you think?”

“I agree sir. The recommendation for that award and the Combat Action Badge is warranted by her actions. She from all accounts never lost her head; was thinking right along; took much of the action personally; and was extremely successful in not only preserving her command, but inflicting significant casualties on the enemy. And her last act before leaving was destroying the remaining serviceable ammunition and equipment so as to not let the enemy benefit. If this was Sergeant Robert Parker I would feel the same way. When you add to the fact her young age, no combat training or experience, it is remarkable. All together it is valid, sir.”

“I agree and will so recommend to the President.”

Liz was beginning to get the feeling that something was going on. She was getting way too many strange looks.

The rest of the company had made it a point to not tell Liz what was going on, two days after the rescue of the convoy. And she was too busy with the day to day details to notice anything else.

Nancy Parker had spoken on the phone to several news organizations. She had decided that enough was enough. She was very proud of her daughter, but this was getting ridiculous. Even at work they were asking her about it.

The President looked at the SECDEF. “Considering what has happened with the Jessica Lynch situation, have we confirmed all of this. Nothing bad is going to be found out?”

“Mr President, I am confident that nothing bad will be found out about Sergeant Parker. You want to talk about someone with as clean a record and reputation, you will have to look long and hard. The bad part of the story is the LT who fortunately got himself killed. He screwed up badly; if he had survived he would have certainly been court-martialed.”

“Very well then. This is approved.”

“This is Fox News. Pentagon sources have confirmed that Sergeant Elizabeth Parker will be awarded a medal for her heroic action in saving the lives of the drivers of the convoy that was attacked on 21 April. Sources were not certain of which award it will be. Speculation has it that the Silver Star was mentioned, but that some felt that it was not sufficient. It is possible that the Distinguished Service Cross, the second highest award for valor in combat that the United States has, will be the one. This would make Sergeant Parker the first woman not a nurse or member of the medical corps to be awarded a medal for valor in combat.”

Liz had had enough. She finally pinned down Maria.
“OK, what is going on? People have been giving me lots of strange looks the last day or so.”

Maria giggled. “Liz, sometimes you are so oblivious. You are a hero. Fox News and the other networks, and some newspapers got the details and have been shooting them all over the place. You are almost certainly going to get a medal.”

Liz sat there with her mouth open and unable to comprehend the situation.
“A medal?” she finally squeaked.

The Division commander looked at the message. He looked at the XO. “Well, now how is this going to be done?”

“As high profile as this is, I am betting that General Franks will do the honors. Actually, if they could get away with it, I am sure the SECDEF would do it. Probably the president would want to. But it has to be done here and soon.”

Captain Simmons came back from a meeting with Division and called Sergeant Axton aside. Walking towards the ASP so as to be alone, he told the Sergeant.
“Liz is going to be awarded the Distinguished Service Cross, and the Combat Action Badge.”

Axton softly whistled. “Wow. Not that I think it’s not warranted. But that is a pretty high award for a single action. Though it was an action that was over six hours long. So I guess that is what probably clinched it. Liz did not make one single mistake; every decision she made was dead on. So when are they going to do this?”

“Division is pretty sure that Franks will want to make the award. Better see to it that Liz has a real clean uniform handy. They will probably do it at Division. I would guess in the next week or so. Things are pretty quiet.”

The division commander was talking to CENTCOM.
“Yes sir. 30th of April. That is kind of fast sir. Yes sir. Our PR people will be waiting. Good day, sir.”

He looked at his XO. “They are doing this fast. Franks will be here on the 30th to talk to the 4th ID commander and myself. The SECDEF has informed him that the President has approved the award to Sergeant Parker. So she will get that gong and the Combat Action Badge on the 30th. Better make sure that she has a real clean uniform. No Class A’s; regular BDU. Let her captain know of the date and place.”

Captain Simmons called Liz to the command tent. Liz was still a little surprised but the shock was wearing off.
“Well, Liz, I am sure by now that someone has spilled the beans.”

“I pinned Maria to the wall and she told me. Surprised that I would get a medal. Not combat unit and a woman.”

“Well brace yourself. You are being awarded the Combat Action Badge, as all the survivors will be. That is a badge for non infantrymen who have been in combat directly with the enemy. Then on April 30, at 3rd ID forward HQ, you will be awarded by General Tommy Franks, CENTCOM commander, the Distinguished Service Cross.”

Liz stood there. And stood there. With her mouth open. Captain Simmons could do nothing else but laugh.

Liz got scared. “Oh. My. God.”

It was still 3 days till the 30th and Liz was desperately trying not to think about it all. The Captain had made some calls and they had found a new uniform for her that was small enough so that it did not look bad. But otherwise she was a wreck despite the best efforts of her friends to help out.

Meanwhile back in the US:

Nancy Parker put the phone down and sat, staring at the wall in her office. Liz was going to be awarded the Distinguished Service Cross. Only the Congressional Medal of Honor was higher. Unbelievable. The letter from Liz had gotten to her only that afternoon. The Post Man had made it a point to hand deliver it to her then put it in her mailbox. He told her that he had served in Desert Storm; and that she should be very proud of her daughter. Nancy had read and re read the letter; and then the phone call from the army letting her know about the medal.

Diane and Phillip Evans read the letter from Isabelle. Phillip looked at her.
“Liz must be quite a young woman.”

Ed and Theresa Harding read the letter from Tess. They shook their heads.

Amy Deluca was talking to her friend at work.
“Maria is over there right in the middle of that mess. I hope to God she does not get into something like her friend did.”

Meanwhile outside of this rather large circumstance, things were fairly quiet at the ASP. Very little action was happening; so no one was getting much new ammunition. Meanwhile the Captain had been reading about reports that bases and camps were starting to take some fire; small arms mostly. He talked it over with Axton and Liz; they agreed they needed to figure out a way to protect the personnel at the ASP if there were rocket or mortar attacks. Liz suggested doing what she had done at the Field ASP and they agreed. Some 20 foot long metal culverts were located; they were brought into the ASP and scattered around and covered with several feet of sand. If something happened they could crawl in either end and be pretty well protected.

Maria and the others had had a talk with Captain Simmons: Liz needed her friends with her when she was faced with the circus the award ceremony would certainly become. He agreed.

Liz carefully checked her appearance; Division HQ certainly had a better situation then they did. Even if they were in tents as well. Looking in the mirror she made sure everything was correct. Taking a deep breath, she walked out to where her friends were waiting. They made it clear they would be sticking close to her and she was very grateful.

Liz stood at attention. Then when called she marched up to the General and saluted. He returned the Salute and then placed the Medal around her neck and shook her hand. “Congratulations, Sergeant. This was well deserved.”

Her knees almost shaking, Liz managed “Thank you sir.” She then Saluted and moved back to the formation.

“On April 21, 2003, a convoy carrying ammunition for the 3rd ID was attacked in Anbar Province. The lead vehicle was destroyed, killing the convoy commander and his sergeant. Sergeant Elizabeth Parker was the senior NCO. As an 89B, Ammunition Specialist, Sergeant Parker was neither trained nor experienced in combat. There were no combat soldiers present, just the drivers of the vehicles. Despite this she took command and by her efforts, personally and by orders and example, she was able to hold the position despite severe attacks and though greatly outnumbered her command was able to inflict severe casualties on the enemy through a period exceeding 6 hours, mostly at night. No soldier in her command was wounded or injured. She also ensured that no ammunition or equipment was lost to the enemy by personally destroying the last as she left the position. Sergeant Elizabeth Parker has upheld the proud tradition of the US Army and is hereby awarded, by the President of the United States, on behalf of a grateful nation, the Distinguished Service Cross.”

Then came a blitz of picture taking; the flashes almost blinded her. The formation was dismissed and the MPs made sure that the reporters could not get to her. She quickly marched out of the facility and was grabbed by her friends. Captain Simmons then told them to vamoose and they did. They escaped to the mess hall and got something to eat. All the while Liz slowly fingered her medal. She had been awarded the Combat Service Badge by the Division CO earlier in the day. That had been low key in the Division command tent. Liz could not really believe this had happened. IT was like she was a spectator seeing it happen to someone else.

Nancy Parker sat in her small living room watching the event on TV. Liz looked so small; and she would have bet very scared. Nancy sighed as it was over. No telling how long Liz would be over there. But they said that the major combat operations were over. She just hoped that was true.

Liz was very lucky that the reporters were not allowed to bother her. She was content to stay holed up at the ASP doing her job. Captain Simmons quietly told her that she was going to end up as one of the poster children of this war. She would be well known for a long time. She had written a letter to her mom just before finding out what medal she was going to get; she had not given a lot of detail. She wrote a second one after the ceremony.

Isabelle, Maria and Tess were also celebrating getting promoted to E4, as Specialists, unlike Liz who had been a corporal; they were happy to have the extra money without having to be in the command line. One major topic of discussion was how long they would be in Iraq. They knew they were due for a year here; and that was probably going to be the least. But they were hopeful, here in early May of 2003.

The months began to slowly go by; the ASP was maintained in its present position; but the facilities were upgraded as contractors were hired to make things better for the soldiers. Liz was very happy to see better quarters and above all a mess hall; they finally started getting real food in August. They got semi permanent tents, some with air conditioning. That made sleeping in the hot summers possible. Till then quite often they would trade out sacking in the one tent that had air conditioning, where the computers and communications gear was kept.

One bad thing was the increasing violence as disaffected Iraqi’s and foreign combatants began to make trouble. And the various bases started to take rocket and mortar fire. It was not bad where they were at; there was really not much of a chance that anyone could get very close due to the flat and open terrain. Other bases were not so lucky. They got their first mortar attack in late September.

It was after dark and Liz and the others had just finished eating; they would relax for a while and then sack out. The air conditioned tents were a godsend, even though it was starting to get cooler at night. They had just left the mess tent, which was about a quarter mile from the ASP, and were heading towards the tents they had finally gotten that were decent; four to a tent which suited them fine. Suddenly there was a rustling sound that Liz recognized; she yelled at her friends “Incoming- get down” and hit the ground. RIGHT after that there were explosions several hundred yards away towards the living quarters of the tents. Liz lay there listening; when the explosions died away she looked for and found the nearest shelter and pulled her friends towards it. They sat in there as another group of rounds hit. After twenty minutes Liz poked her head out and then left it. The others slowly followed, still shaking a little. Liz shook her head.
“Well I guess it had to happen sooner or later.” Then headed back to the living areas. They were glad to see that no damage had been done; all the rds had missed, though some shrapnel had holed a couple of tents.

Luckily the Brigade Commander reacted quickly and strengthened the guard force and reaction force. From that point on they patrolled aggressively at ranges that would force the mortar crews too far away to do much harm to the camp. So it never got as bad as it did in many other camps around Iraq. They were about 50 miles south west of Baghdad.

Liz touched the little decoration on the tiny tree they had come up with for Christmas in the Command tent of the ASP. It was coming up to 9 months here in Iraq; word was that their tour would probably be extended by 3 months so they would not be gone until August. Liz had just been promoted to E6 in September; she was told that was a further result of her award. She had only 9 months in rank as an E5 and would probably have not gotten an E6 until sometime in late 2004. Sergeant Axton had gotten his E8, long overdue in just about everyone’s mind. The Bad news was that Captain Simmons was being promoted out of the Company and into the Division G-4 office. Rogers had gotten his promotion to Captain and took over the company. Starting in January, Rogers would be in command. Liz would miss Captain Simmons, as they all would. Rogers was a good officer, but much less open and warm. Liz and Sergeant Axton had talked about it.

“Rogers is competent and pretty straightforward; but I really liked Captain Simmons. He did his best to take care of us; and more importantly he showed that he cared.”

“This is a good promotion for Simmons; less than three years in grade, and he will be going to a position that has good chances for further promotion. Rogers will be all right; but I agree that Simmons was special.”

“So, any word on getting any more 89Bs?”

“Same answer as we always get- some day. Actually I doubt we see any more until we get back to Stewart.”

“Just when we do not need them anymore.”

“Well, realistically, with the strong QASAS support we have we really do not need them.”

“True. I just wish we had gotten luckier with our latest QASAS. Is he dry behind the ears yet?”

Axton just had to laugh. For someone who was not yet 21, and the QASAS in question being over 30, that was funny.
“Well, luckily we really do not need a full time experienced QASAS like we did early on. And this one will be gone in 4 months.”

“Just hope the next one is still not baking. Sometimes I have the answers and he does not. And that can be scary.”

“Liz, you spent a lot of time with our last QASAS soaking up as much as you could. You really do not need to worry about knowing things now as regards running an ASP and the basic ammunition questions. You got them down pat.”

“I guess. Still so much more to learn.”

“Not really Liz. Most of what you need to know as an 89B you got down well. Just a matter of learning bits and pieces here and there and connecting it all together. We have done virtually everything that we are ever likely to do here in Iraq as regards what Army Ammunition Specialists do. We have set up ASP’s and Field ASP’s, moved ammo, issued and turned it in. We have not had to destroy much but that is for EOD. Now closing a theatre ASP would be the only thing we have not done; and it’s not likely to happen.”

“Do you think they might put 89B on the stop loss list?”

“We are not important enough.”

They both smile a little bitterly at that.

They had a real good going away party for Major Simmons; Liz was very sorry to see him go and made a point of telling him that. He also made a point of telling her that he was proud to have commanded a unit with her in it.
“Liz, soldiers like you honor the officers who command. You and Sergeant Axton are soldiers any officer would give his eye teeth to have in his unit.”

Captain Rogers made it a point to talk to Axton and Liz his first day in command.
“I am not an ammunition Expert. I am a truck driver with experience in moving ammunition around. You two are the ammunition experts when the QASAS is not around; and depending on who we have as a QASAS even then. So I expect you two make sure that things are done right as regards the ammunition itself. This company ran damn well under Captain Simmons and I live by the old saying, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.”

Liz was very much reassured after that meeting. She too subscribed to that saying. It was just a shame that the rest of the Military did not.

Outside of an occasional mortar attack, which had never caused much damage or injured anyone severely, it had been a quiet few months leading up to the anniversary of the starting of the war. Word was that their redeployment was on schedule for August to September. Everyone hoped that was the case and nothing changed.

VIP’s were not common at the ASP, outside of those that dealt with it. But every now and then a few showed up. Never many, and never very high. Quite often their escorts were more important. Today was one of the few days when they actually had some real VIP’s. Two members of Congress, and one a member of the House Armed Services Committee. Which made that one VERY IMPORTANT. Liz had gotten used to being the one that took them around; Captain Rogers did not like to do it and since she was the one genuine Hero at the ASP (Liz really wanted to deck Maria for hanging that label on her) she was usually asked for anyway. Pictures with the only woman to every win a combat medal always looked good for the politicians and others. At least Liz had been able to use the experiences to learn how to do them pretty well. It was a pretty nice day in May, not too hot yet.

They had just come out of one of the Milvans used to store ammo, and had closed it and were walking back towards the vehicles when that familiar sound came. It was very rare indeed for it to happen during the day but Liz was quick.

“INCOMING MORTARS! Everyone get DOWN!” Liz was going down when she saw that one of the Congressmen had frozen; she moved quickly and knocked him down just as a mortar round went off 15 feet away. She felt a sharp pain in her back as she hit the ground. After a few seconds she got up and hauled the much larger man up and pulled him towards one of the shelters, yelling for the rest of them to follow her. She got the rest of them in just as a second salvo hit. Farther away but still close. She kept them in there until she heard the all clear sound that meant the reaction force had located the mortar crew and had taken action.
“OK. Sounds like the reaction force got them. Should be clear now.”

Despite the fact that there had been several officers with the group, none of them were combat. PR and the like. None of them argued with her. The Congress man shakily thanked her.
“Sergeant, I froze. Might have been killed if you had not knocked me down.”

“That is ok sir. We get kind of used to things like that after a while. Quite a few freeze the first time.” Liz felt some pain in her back and reached back to touch it with her hand; she felt something wet and brought her hand back and looked at a fair amount of blood on her hand.
“Well nuts. Looks like I caught some shrapnel.”

That focused everyone’s attention on her and most gasped as they saw the blood. One of the PR types reacted a little faster and yelled “MEDIC!” The congressman, horrified, promptly took Liz’s arm and sat her down on a box next to the shelter. The medic that traveled with the group was there in a moment.
“OK, Sarge, let see how bad it is.” He then pulled her shirt up. The Shrapnel had hit about midway up her back, just to the right of her spine. There was a hole about the size of a nickel that was bleeding fairly well. He applied a bandage immediately. “OK, we need a medevac.”

Liz, strangely enough, did not feel too bad. They were making a big deal out of a small wound.
“OH, come on. Someone can drive me to the aid station. Anyone with tweezers can probably pull it out. A few stitches and I will be fine.”

“Well Sarge,that may be true. But it’s better to be safe than sorry. And they will want to take an XRAY to see if there is any more and where it is. And it is too close to the spine to take any chances.”

Just in case a medevac was kept alerted whenever there were VIP’s of that rank around. The Chopper was in the air in 15 minutes and at the ASP in 15 more. Liz despite her protestations was placed face down and strapped to a rack and flown to the Main Medical center at Division. There they pulled her off and had her into an operating room in another 15 minutes where they XRAYED her back. Luckily there was only one piece, but it had gone in over an inch and a half. They gave her a local and dug it out and stitched her up. Then gave her some pain meds and put her in a bed. Unfortunately she had to rest on her stomach so they gave her a bed that raised the end up and she laid on it.
“Doc, how long am I stuck here?”

“Not more than a couple of days. We just want to make sure no complications and no infections.”

The Congressman talking to the Division commander was blunt.
“General, I froze. From what the EOD man said who looked at where the mortar round hit, the angle it had to be to hit her where it did, if she had not gotten in the way I might be dead.”

Word of the incident went up the ladder at Warp 9; but even then it got to the media faster than that; especially since several reporters were with the group.

Early reports had the Congressman injured; that got interest right away. Then when the word leaked out that the congressman had probably been saved by none other than Sergeant Elizabeth Parker, and she had been wounded doing it, then the interest ramped up even higher.

Nancy Parker was at work when she was called in by the City administrator.
“Nancy we just heard on the news. Liz got wounded in Iraq. Apparently some congressmen were touring where she was at and some mortar rounds hit; she supposedly knocked a congressman down that froze and took the hit that would have gotten him. They say it’s not serious but she has been medevaced to a hospital.”

Nancy was shaking. This was her nightmare. The City Administrator had someone drive her home, someone else bringing her car. Then he called one of her friends to stay with her and answer the phone. He knew the media would be all over this.

Nancy sat and waited. Ellen, a friend from work, was taking all phone calls. The city administrator had asked the sheriff to station someone outside the home in case the media showed up. It took almost 2 hours but they started to line up outside. The Deputy would not allow any of them to go to the door.

Liz was a little groggy from the pain meds, but demanded a phone to call her mother. She got one rather quickly.
“Parker Residence. This is Ellen, if you are with the media there is no comment.”

“Ellen this is Liz. I am calling from the hospital. Let me speak to mom.”

Nancy grabbed the phone. “Honey how bad is it?”

“Got a hole in my back about the size of a nickel. They got the shrapnel out and XRAYED me and there is no more. I should be out of here in a day or two. They just want to make sure there is no infection. I am OK, mom.”

They spoke for a few more minutes before the doctor put an end to it; he talked to Nancy to further relieve her worries. The pain meds had hit by then and Liz conked out.

Maria and the others were relieved when Captain Rogers called them in and told them Liz would be fine and probably back in a few days.
“Considering how hard it was to convince her to go, I bet she will be back as soon as she can.”

Interestingly enough the Congressman had no problems admitting that he had frozen. He embellished the incident somewhat, telling the media that odds were he would have been dead if Liz had not knocked him down. The piece of shrapnel would have hit him dead center in the chest.

So now the media haunted the Hospital. Liz was the highest profile patient they had had by far. The Divisional surgeon increased security and made it very clear that he would be royally pissed off with any comments made to the media; and even more pissed off if any of the media managed to sneak in and bother Sergeant Parker.

Liz, meanwhile, was bored out of her gourd by the next day. The doctor checked the wound the first thing in the morning and changed the dressing.
“So far so good. No signs of infection. You white count is holding steady. We irrigated the wound heavily so we might have nipped any of that in the bud.”

One good thing is that they were able to rig a pillow and a pad so that she could sit up in bed. They had just got that done when the Congressman came in to visit her. He was alone except for a PR officer. No press.
“Sergeant, you saved my life and I will not forget that.”

Liz was a little embarrassed but was somewhat relaxed due to the pain meds.
“Sir, I reacted. The group was my responsibility. I would have done that for anyone.”

“I know that. But you did it for me. The EOD officer who came by right after measured from where the round hit and where you and I were and he is pretty sure that it would have hit me right in the middle of the chest. Could very well have killed me.”

Liz did not know what to say.

“I am from Georgia; not in the same district as Ft Stewart, unfortunately. But not that far away either. When you get out of here, and you have any problems at all, I consider it a privilege if you would contact me. I owe you a debt I cannot repay; and politicians always keep count. Thank you again.”

Later on that afternoon the girls stopped by. Maria was blunt as usual.
“Chica, you keep getting in those situations. Time you learned to just take care of yourself. What is one more politician anyway?”

The Congressman made it a point to stop by CENTCOM on his way back to the States.
“General, I want that young sergeant to be recognized for what she did.”

General Abizid nodded. “The Soldiers Medal seems to be appropriate. It is usually awarded when a life is saved in a hazardous situation.”

“That sounds good. Let me know when it will be done. I want to be there.”

Captain Rogers and Sergeant Axton were finding out just how much Liz got done around the ASP. The hard way since she was not there. They counted the days until she got back.

Liz managed to annoy the doctor enough that he let her go three days after the incident. With strict orders to take it easy and a medic to change the dressing each day for the next week and keep an eye out for problems. She called up the ASP.

“Captain, I annoyed the Doctor enough so that he will release me this morning. All I need is a ride back.”

“That we can do. The work is piling up around here. Now what are the restrictions?”

“I have to take it easy and the medic will have to change the dressing each day for the next week. Then he wants to see me and maybe take out the stitches. Other than that I have to probably stay in the tent and do paperwork.”

Isabelle and the others got to the Hospital only a couple hours later. They got lunch at the Divisional Mess hall which was much better than what they had at the ASP. Liz was back at the unit by 1400 and started on paperwork right away.

Liz found out that Captain Rogers had assigned Maria and Tess to make sure she did not overdo it. Liz complained that one mother was more than enough but the girls turned a deaf ear to that.

Liz gradually got back into the swing of things and a week later got the stitches out.

On the first of June, 2004, Liz was called into the divisional HQ. She had been told to put on her best uniform. She had suspicions but when the Congressman she had helped showed up, she figured it out. He was the one that pinned the Soldiers Medal on her. The division commander then pinned the Purple Heart on her. Pictures followed.

The girls later on told her that she was piling up the medals. With the DSC, the Soldiers Medal and now the Purple Heart, she was going to have some fairly thick fruit salad. Sergeant Axton pointed out to her that with the medals already awarded added to the ones she would get for serving in Iraq and so on, she would look very impressive in Class A’s. Liz blew a raspberry and said why waste the money on a Class A?

In July, just after the 4th, they got the very welcome word that they would be deploying back to the States starting in the middle of August. By mid September they would be back home. There had been some worry that they would be held over but that had not come true.

They were to find out that leaving sometimes was more complicated than going. The good news was that they would not have to close anything down. But they would have to sign off on all things left; and account for all things lost. Luckily they had done a good job of keeping a paper trail. The National Guard unit that would be relieving them showed up three weeks before they were due to leave. Liz soon found out that rumors about the state of NG Ordnance companies were true.

One week after meeting their replacements, Captain Rogers, Liz and Axton had a quiet meeting with Major Simmons at Division G-4. Rogers started.
“Major, this bunch is really bad. They do NOT know what they are doing. The only good thing is that the new QASAS is experienced so he can help. But they are really lost.”

Sergeant Axton was next. “They do not know how to fill out 1348-1’s. They do not know the meaning of most of the information on that form.”

Liz was next. “They have no concept of storage groups. Quantity Distance is unknown to them. Basic safety is a mystery.”

Major Simmons nodded. “I am not surprised. I will tell the G4 but all I can probably tell you is to help them as much as you can and make sure that anything happening after we leave is on them. Liz, work on them as much as possible; I know you probably have more references than anyone in Iraq. So let them have copies of that and your notes. That is probably all we can do.”

Later that day he told the Division G4.
Colonel Hough nodded. “I know. We see it all over. Have your people do the best that they can in the time left; and CYA. Too many of them do not want to learn. We cannot force them to.”

The Division support troops were the last ones to leave; Liz was just about on the last convoy to Kuwait on 12 September, 2004. They spent a further 3 weeks in Kuwait before they caught their planes back to the US. One good thing about not taking any leave for almost 2 years; you had a fair amount saved up. Once back at Ft Stewart, just about everyone would get 30 days leave.

Nancy had been planning for Liz’s homecoming. Liz would stay with her for a week; then they would take some time and visit a couple of places and relax. Liz then intended to travel some; visit Tess and her parents in Roswell; Isabelle and her parents in Kansas City; and Maria and her mother in Louisville. Then she would get back to Ft Stewart with a few days to go before coming back to duty. She had bought a nice little car and would be driving across the country. Nancy had told Liz that she was looking at seeing if she could find a job farther south in a nicer climate. Liz told her that would be great. Then Nancy asked her about her plans.
Liz was pensive. “Well, technically I will have fulfilled my four year active duty commitment next June. I can go out and serve the other four years in the Reserves or NG. Then go to college. But l still do not know what I want to do; I want to have a good idea of that before committing. Actually college seems less and less important to me. One thing I can do; according to the guys I have talked to, is once out of the Army apply for one of the QASAS classes. Everyone of them I have talked to told me I would breeze right in. The pay there is real good; and the job I already pretty much know. The only downside of that is that every 3-5 years I would be moving. Which is about what the Military does. I am just not sure.”

Nancy took that in. Liz was so very different in some ways and yet still the same in others. Liz had looked death in the eye; had faced her own mortality before she was old enough to drink. She now knew the hard part of life; the tough part of the world. Liz was now an adult. Nancy could council and advise, but the decisions would be hers.

3 weeks later, with 3 days of leave left, Liz drove into Ft Stewart. She went to the quarters she would still share with Maria, and unpacked. She stood in front of the window of the room and looked over at the other buildings. The 3rd ID was trickling back into the base. But most had not yet arrived back. They were taking as much time as they could. Liz had enjoyed the trip across the country. She had never before really seen much of the US. Now she had. Liz knew she had fully grown up in Iraq; made the final transition from teen to adult. Certainly not the easiest way to do it, but it had got the job done. Now she had to think hard about what she wanted to do with her life. She knew she wanted to meet a nice guy, get married and have children. She wanted a career that she liked and that meant something.

Liz had only about 8 months left before her tour of active duty was up. She could skate through that quite well. She had plenty of money in the bank and with the GI Bill she would be able to go to college; but the problem was that like she had told her mother, college just did not seem all that much important to her anymore. You did not need that to have a career, though it certainly helped. Liz knew she was getting close to what she was trying to figure out, but was not yet there.

Liz called into the Ordnance Company office the next day; and found out that only Sergeant Axton was in. She headed down.

When she walked in the door, Sergeant Axton grinned.
“Hail the conquering hero!”

Liz gave him a dirty look.
“With all due respect, sergeant, stick that where the sun don’t shine.”

“Division PR wants you to do some interviews; the Media still want to talk to you. Since they did not get anything over there, they figure they can over here.”

“Can I refuse?”

“Probably. But honestly Liz, they are going to keep at you until they get what they want. An interview with the first woman to win a Medal for Valor in combat.”

Liz sighed and sat down. “You figure I just better get it out of the way?”

“Yeah. Just do a couple and then say no more. That at the least will get Division PR off of your neck.”

“OK. So how do things look?”

“Pretty good. Things will be quiet until the Division starts training again; which won’t be for at least a month or two. Though there is word coming down about division realignment; changing the structure. Having a division support or sustainment brigade with all the support companies there. Kind of stupid; just another level of bureaucrats and desk jockies.”

“Figures. Sarge, I have 8 months left, assuming that 89B does not become a stop loss. I know, you do not have to roll your eyes we both know we will never be that important. I am kind of lost about what to do. On one hand, being in this company with everyone has been mostly great. But it has sucked as well; and it’s a given that in a year or so we will be going back to Iraq. Though probably not as a division if what I have heard is true.”

“It is. They will send one brigade at a time. One here; one coming home and one going there. So each brigade will probably go every two years or so. Until it’s done. Now with us, it will be interesting. Only a section will go. They will have to increase our size so that they can split it up so that enough can stay here to run things and enough can go there to run things. It will be kind of crazy.”

Liz nodded. “Maria and Tess and Isabelle all are going to be going out next June. I will not like this place anywhere near as much without them. And going back to Iraq without them is just not something I want.”

“I probably will be transferring out as well. Been here 8 years and that is about it. I have only 6 more years to go before my 20 is done. I am going to be looking to go somewhere to settle down and prepare for life after the Army.”

Liz was not surprised; but saddened. Her half decision was just about done.
“OK. Well that tells me I do not want to stay here. But the question is, do I want to stay in the military?”

Axton sat back. Liz was someone who made the day seem brighter. She was just that way. He did not want to see her lose that. Staying here doing the same thing he feared it would start to fade.

“OK. Here are some thoughts. One: go somewhere else; but if you stay at what you are doing you will be going back to Iraq doing the same thing. Two: Go for some other MOS. But the fact is that just about everyone will be going to Iraq at least a couple more times before it’s all over. Three: go for the reserves and go to college. Four: go to the NG and the same; but once again you will probably be going back to Iraq doing the same thing or something similar. But if you are in college you can delay it four years. Five: become a recruiter; the Army would LOVE that.”

Liz thought about that for a few minutes.
“One: you are right and no way. Two: Same unless I go for recruiter. Which also covers Five. Three and four: college just does not thrill me and I do not know what career I want. I still feel that college without a goal is a waste for me. Like I am just delaying things. I want a family. One other possibility I have been tossing around is going for a appointment to West Point. That congressman owes me and I could call in that favor.”

Axton nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. But somehow I just do not see you at the trade school. So much of what they teach there you already know.”

Liz nodded slowly. That was true. Discipline and the basics she already knew. Engineering did not thrill her; high level calculus and math had never been enjoyable for her though she could do it. And four years of being locked up there; no way.
“Yeah, the point is out.”

Axton was thinking. “OK. Here is another consideration. OCS. With your record and your scores and SATs and everything, you can get in no sweat. 100 days and you are an officer. It would be a lot different. And you would probably be able to pretty much choose your branch. They are opening more and more up to women now. You could go right in and say go for aviation and become a rotorhead.”

Slowly Liz nodded. “Yeah. That is true. I forgot that recruiters are stuck in one place for three years; the one I got was locked up in Northern Wyoming. Had enough of there.”

“Well, you would probably be able to just about pick your spot.”

“True. My recruiter was a good guy; but even so you are a salesman. And somehow I just do not want to go that route. Even if I got somewhere I loved. Same with going into PR. I would be selling myself in the process.”

“And if you go into recruiting they will use your record and reputation. And I do mean USE.”

“Ya. OK that is out. More and more your OCS sounds like an idea. Aviation as well. I like it.” Suddenly Liz just knew she had found the way. She grinned at Axton. “That is it, Sarge. That is the path.”

Axton grinned. Seeing her come to the decision and her eyes light up was real good. And he thought it was the way to go; plus the Army needed officers like Liz.

Her decision made she headed over to Personnel. After stopping by Division PR and telling them to go ahead and schedule a couple of interviews.

The Personnel officer who saw her was straightforward when he met her.
“Sergeant Parker, you can pretty much write your ticket. That fact that you got one of the Congressmen of the House Armed Services Committee in your pocket means that the US Army is not going to mess with you.”

Liz grinned. “I have decided to go for OCS. So what do I need to do?”

He gave her the booklets and options and promised to research the possibilities and get back to her.

Liz called up her mother and let her know what she had decided. Nancy had hoped she would leave the military but was not surprised; and she once again told her daughter how very proud of her she was.

The next day Liz got her Class A uniform which she had not yet worn in public out and put it on. Then headed over to the Division PR office. She was rather surprised that the deputy PR officer was going to go with her to Savannah where the Interviews would happen. Fox News was first; followed by ABC news.

The Fox news person was getting her ready; she would be talking to the National Anchors on the morning show.
“Sergeant Parker, how are you doing?”

“Quite well.”

And from there on it was a breeze. Liz did not realize it but she looked very impressive with all her decorations. Each of them asked what her plans were; all she said was that at this time she was looking at staying in the Military.

The PR officer said to her when it was over. “Frankly, if you want to come over to PR, you would do very well here. You communicate very well.”

She smiled. “Probably not. I hate having to dress up all the time.”

The next day Isabelle and the others were back and they all went out to the restaurant and exactly as Maria had said drank a bottle of the same Champagne.

Maria then fixated on Liz. “Chica, I saw the interview yesterday. You looked very impressive there. And what is this about staying in?”

Liz smiled and sat back. “I am going for OCS.”

The others blinked. Tess said “Really? Then what?”

“I am thinking of going into Aviation; maybe end up flying Apache’s.”

Isabelle was surprised. “Wow. Army as a career as an officer. Not college?”

“More and more I am thinking not. Just does not feel right. I will be taking college courses as an officer, but off and on.”

Maria had been thinking. “Do you have an idea when you will be starting?”

“Probably not until the spring at the earliest.”

“Well that is ok then, when you leave will be about the same time we all get out.”

Liz smiled. “OK guys, let’s hear your plans.”

Tess smiled. “College for me; just not sure where.”

Isabelle nodded. “Same here.”

Maria “Make that three.”
Here is Part 2. This is all done just have to chop it up to post it.


“OK. You guys will need to get your applications in fairly soon to get acceptance for the fall semester. And unless you go to a university in your parents home state, you will have to pay out of state tuition. So I have a suggestion if you do not have strong feelings. University of Georgia.”

The girls looked at each other then at Liz. Liz grinned. “Well I can smell wood burning so you are all thinking.”

By the time they went back to their quarters, the girls were coming around to the idea. Liz had then pointed out that even after OCS, if she went to Army Aviation school that was at Rucker, which was not all far away from the University of Georgia. They would be in the same part of the country; able to see each other on occasion. Liz had come to realize that those three were her best buds, friends for life. She would not let them go.

Things began to start up again once they were on duty. But now it was a case of just finishing up. Even Captain Rogers was looking to get out and go into business with his brother in law. By the middle of the year the whole Ordnance Company would be a memory. Things were going to be reorganized anyway. A sustainment Brigade would oversee all division support units.

Liz’s application for OCS was put in and accepted quickly. She also had personnel put out feelers as regards to the Aviation School in Ft Rucker and the initial response was favorable. She would be hitting OCS in May; finishing it in August, and starting Aviation School in September. That would run 18 months and she would be done in January of 2007. Liz felt she had a plan. More good news was that her promotion to E7 had come through.

Major Simmons sat back and sighed. The Ordnance company would be a ghost unit by summer. Every single vital soldier would be gone one way or another. Tasked by G4 to keep track of such things, what with the changes coming to the organization, he had known it would probably not be good but this was really bad. The commander going out; the top two sergeants and only capable 89B’s leaving; the best techs as regards TAMIS and the records going out. He walked over to the G4’s office.

Colonel Hough looked at him. “This is very bad. Word is that we will be deploying at least one brigade by the middle of next year. That gives us at best a year to completely rebuild that company.”

“Yes sir. And getting good 89B’s is still a nightmare; we are due to get some fresh ones this year but they will be very green. And as regards competent senior leadership, we might be able to put in place a sergeant or two; but they will not be 89B’s.”

Hough looked at the details. “Sergeants Axton and Parker; that was really where the leadership has been. Losing both of them is what is really going to hurt. Everything else is manageable.”

“Exactly sir. What we need to do is get some people in there now; competent people and have the outgoing Sergeants work on training them up.”

“All right. Get down to personnel and have them go over every E7 in this division; I want recommendations of who we can transfer in. If necessary I will go right to the Commander to have the best ones moved in. Let their commanders howl if they want; the Ordnance company is too important to short change.”

Major Simmons nodded. The recent explosion at an ASP in Iraq had been investigated and the Brigade commander had been reprimanded; the Ordnance company commander had been relieved for cause. Belatedly the higher ups were starting to finally get it.

The senior Congressman for Georgia, member of the House Armed Services Committee, looked at the report then at his staffer.
“This sounds like a typical bureaucratic screw up but it’s worse than that, is what you are saying?”

“Yes sir. The pentagon has ignored the Ammunition side of the house for a long time; underfunded and not considered important. Which is very stupid but there you are. The personnel situation is just as bad if not worse overall. 89B’s are very low priority; and there is no reason any ambitious soldiers want to go there. Promotions are very slow and recognition nonexistent.”

The Congressman sat back for a minute. “Call up Ft Stewart and schedule a visit tomorrow. I want to talk with the Division G4. And specifically I want to talk to some 89B’s there at FT Stewart. Sergeant Parker for one; and I believe another is Sergeant Axton, if I recall correctly.”

“Yes, Congressman. We will be waiting for you at 0900. Those personnel will be waiting.”

Colonel Hough sighed as he put down the phone. Then he buzzed the Commander; he had not even had a chance to talk to him yet about the problem with the Ordnance Company.

The Division Commander sighed; were things ever simple? He had told the G4 to get to his office ASAP and bring Major Simmons with him.

“OK, Colonel. Give me the bad news.”

“Basically sir, by this summer the Ordnance Company will be a ghost unit. The Commander is leaving the military to go into private business; the two senior sergeants are transferring out. The best supply techs are leaving the military to enter college. And there are not competent people there to replace them. The two LTs are basically spot fillers; and that is all. There are no other senior sergeants period. Some new supply techs will be coming in this spring but they will be very green. We will have no competent 89Bs once Sergeants Axton and Parker are gone; and getting them is a joke. We are due a couple in the spring but who knows if they will be good and they WILL be green.”

The general sighed and rubbed his eyes. “And what does the congressman want?”

“Well, sir, as you well know he is the one Sergeant Parker saved. He showed at that time a fair amount of interest in the ASP and the ordnance company. I am guessing that he wants to know more. I seriously doubt he knows about what is about to happen to what is currently a very good and capable company. But he will find out and he will want to know what we are going to do about it. With that incident at that ASP in Iraq, visibility of this area has skyrocketed. Overall the Ammunition situation in the entire Army as regards personnel and ability is not good; frankly not surprising since it has been ignored and considered unimportant for over a generation.”

“Stupid but not surprising when looking at how the Pentagon does things. Well I want to have a plan by the time the Congressman gets here tomorrow on how we are going to rebuild the Ordnance company. That will have top priority over any unit in this division as of right now.”

Colonel Hough took a deep breath. “Sir, I had personnel go through the records of every E7 in this division; and Major Simmons is going to look through the best and pick two to be transferred to the Ordnance Company immediately. That will give Sergeants Parker and Axton at least 6 months to train them. But this will need your signature.”

“I want those transfer orders on my desk by 1700 today.”

“Yes sir.”

Major Simmons rubbed his eyes; he had been going over a total of 50 E7’s personnel files. One of the criteria had to be that they had been with the division in Iraq. Or had been to Iraq. He wanted only those who had been there and done that. They would need to be with the Ordnance Company for at least 2 years. So he had whittled down the possibles to 6. He was going to talk to all 6 before picking two of them.

Sergeant Williams had been in the first Brigade as Infantry; he was a no nonsense type that got things done. Sergeant Alexander had been in 3rd Brigade, also as Infantry. He was very competent if a little more easy going than Sergeant Williams. Williams was slightly senior. Major Simmons had chosen those two; and had the transfer orders made out by 1630 to give to Colonel Hough. The two other sergeants in the Ordnance company were going to be switched out for them. Major Simmons had no doubt the screams from both brigade commanders would be heard all the way to Savannah.

Liz and Axton had been informed about the Congressman early the previous afternoon. PR had wanted them in Class A’s, but Colonel Hough had vetoed that. The Congressman was after answers, not a photo op.

Major Simmons had come to the Ordnance Company office at 0700 to brief them.

Captain Rogers, Liz and Axton were in his office listening.
“The two new Sergeants will be here next week. They need to be brought up to speed before you two leave. I already have a candidate in mind for the Commander slot. He will be coming in May, just before Captain Rogers leaves. He was a veteran of the fighting in Fallujah, so he knows the score. Now as regards the Congressman; he specifically mentioned talking to Sergeants Axton and Parker; and about the Ordnance Company. We are guessing that the recent mess in Iraq at that ASP, and his own personal interest in Ammunition matters, is what this is all about. There will be no media here. He clearly wants information and is coming to people he knows will give him the straight shit. The Division Commander and G4 have decided that nothing will be held back; we are going to tell him that the 3rd ID’s Ordnance Company is going to be gutted; but that we are taking action. The Division commander has also given you two the OK to fully inform the Congressman on the sorry state of the Ammunition Specialist situation for the entire US ARMY. I think that is what this is really about. He got a report and now he is coming to the horses mouth."

Sgt Axton raised an eyebrow. "Surprised the Division commander is willing for us to spill the beans about the situation in the Army as a whole."

"I get the impression that the Division Commander wants action taken and figures this is the way to go. Anything that improves the situation army wide is a good thing. An influential congressman can do that."

Right on time at 0900 the congressman with one assistant and no media showed up at the conference room at HQ. In attendance was Colonel Hough, Major Simmons, Captain Rogers, Sergeants Axton and Parker. Introductions were made and they all sat down.

The congressman started out.
"I am here because of a report that was compiled for me by one of my staff members from information furnished by the Pentagon; specifically the Undersecretary for Personnel. In it there is a damning report about the situation of the Ordnance specialties, particularly the 89B MOS. Now many have heard about the increasing use of IED's and the need for more EOD personnel. But nothing is heard about this shortage; and it’s even more damning that the 89B MOS is not on the Stop Loss list.
So I am here to find some things out."

At virtually the same minute the SECDEF was chewing on the Undersecretary of Defense for Personnel.
"The Congressman wanted that kind of detailed information and I was not informed? Whenever they get that specific something is coming and it’s usually not good. You should have told me of this request as soon as you got it. Now send me the same packet you sent him and do it RIGHT NOW. And I want a separate report on that area done by you and it better be thorough by 1700 today."

"What is the current state of the Ordnance Company of the 3rd ID and what will its state be in one years time."

Major Simmons knew this was his.
"Currently we are as we were in Iraq. Captain Rogers is leaving the military in June. Sergeant Axton is transferring to Ft Carson in July. Sergeant Parker is leaving for OCS in May. Our two senior supply Techs are leaving the military in June."

The Congressman whistled. "So the ordnance company will be gutted in 6 months."

"Yes sir. We have two competent senior NCO's who will be transferred in next week from Infantry Brigades. Both veterans of Iraq. The new commander for the Company is also a veteran of Iraq. 4 new Supply techs will be in by March. We should have time to bring all newbies up to speed by the time the experienced personnel leave."

"None of these people transferring in know a thing about Ammunition."

"That is correct, sir."

"Is this common?"

"Losing all your experienced personnel in a 3 month period is rare. But transferring in people that are unskilled in Ammunition is the rule."

What is the state of the 89B MOS Army wide?"

"Bad sir. Only one class is given each quarter at Benning, the only school for 89B. The class size has been doubled from 20 to 40. But the loss rate of 89B's transferring out is higher than what comes in. Doubling the class size will probably hold us at about where we are right now."

"That is what my report pretty much said. Why is this happening, Sergeant Parker."

Liz took a deep breath. "Ammunition Specialists get little respect. PR is more highly regarded. Promotions are rare; recognition is nonexistent. No one wants to go into it; most try and get out as soon as they can. This is a direct result of years of deliberate decisions at the Pentagon level that has trickled down to the unit level. When the troops see the contempt a MOS is held by the higher ups, they get the message.”


Colonel Hough winced. But he could not truthfully disagree. The Congressman noticed this.

“Was the sergeant incorrect, Colonel?”

“No sir. Regrettably she is correct.”

“And you are leaving it as well, Sergeant Parker.”

“Yes Sir. I have had a wonderful time overall in this company. I have worked with fine people mostly and done an important job well. But this is not what I want to do for the rest of my career. I know that if I stay as an 89B I will go no farther than Sergeant Axton has. He had been stuck at E7 for 6 years because he stayed in the 89B MOS. I have been extremely fortunate to just get my E7. But no matter what, If I stayed I would not get promoted for many years. While others in different MOS’s did get promoted. Now promotions are not everything, but it’s a symptom of what is wrong. We get very little respect from anyone anywhere. If I stay as an 89B I will inevitably end up in a company badly led with incompetent people stuck there because no one else will take them. And when dealing with High Explosives that is not a recipe for a long life.”


The congressman was silent for a moment. Then looked at Sergeant Axton.

“Do you disagree, Sergeant.”

“No sir. Sergeant Parker is the best young 89B I have come across since I became one myself 10 years ago. The fact that she is leaving is no surprise at all; if I was to give her advice on her career I would tell her to leave. Everything she described I have seen firsthand. I have several friends that were promoted much faster than I was primarily because they were in a more highly regarded MOS.”


“What would you recommend to redress this sad situation?”


“Until Ammunition Specialists are given their just do, and the Pentagon treats them as something other than worthless, nothing will change. So this attitude change needs to start at the top and be maintained. I would recommend that 89B Warrant Officers be established; and make them attractive. Another problem is that the ammunition area is ignored and denigrated. Facilities and equipment are usually the last to get funding and upgrades. It is just another symptom of the disregard Ammunition constantly has to deal with.”

Colonel Hough looked at Major Simmons. The two sergeants had really ripped the entire leadership of the US Army and the DOD.


The congressman had been silent, thinking for a minute.
“Sergeant Parker, tell me why competent Ammunition specialists are important.”


Liz braced herself.
“Ammunition is the most dangerous item that the military deals with on a day to day basis. Do you want lazy, incompetent, badly led and badly trained people dealing with that every day? That is what most of the Army does at this time. The recent incident in Iraq was completely due to what has been discussed. And that incident will not be the last. After Desert Storm there was a huge explosion at an ASP due to the Ammunition Specialists involved being incompetent and ignoring basic safety rules. Around the world there is usually one large incident like that each year or every other year. All for basically the same reasons. Sir,that is the way it is. We will be killing soldiers and civilians in the future in totally preventable incidents.”


He thought for a minute.
“The real Ammunition experts in the Army are the QASAS. What is their role as you see it?”


“They are the real experts as you have stated. We had 4 separate QASAS in Iraq. 2 were very good; but two were very green and should not have been sent. Luckily by the time the green ones showed up we were established and going well. QASAS are badly needed because of the lack of 89B’s with real training and real experience. One other bad thing that goes on is that quite often even those 89B’s that want training cannot get it. I made it a point to go to them as soon as I arrived at Ft Stewart. I talked to them every chance I could get and they taught me lot. They also told me that I was very rare. Only because Major Simmons as my company commander agreed was I able to spend that much time learning from them. They told me that they try at every camp post and station they are assigned to that they ask the ordnance personnel there to come for training. Most of the time they are not allowed to come; other training is considered more important and specific training in their MOS is not considered important. One more symptom of an endemic problem in the US Army. Bottom line the QASAS are all too often doing the job that the 89B’s should be doing. But they cannot be everywhere and often they are not all that experienced themselves. They should be the last line defending the safety of Ammunition but all too often they are the ONLY ones around that know what to do. That is a situation that guarantees disaster sooner or later.”


The congressman sat for a few minutes.
“Well I can see that the report was understated; as I expected. I have the basics now. If you would I would like you to show me the ASP here and explain the details of the job.”


Colonel Hough and Major Simmons left for HQ, Captain Rogers pointedly told sergeants Axton and Parker that since they know what they are talking about they will conduct the tour. The Congressman looked at him.

“Captain, I take it nothing said here surprises you or that you disagree with?”

“Sir, I was shot with luck taking over the company from Major Simmons. I had a very good situation compared to most incoming Ordnance Company commanders. What sergeants Parker and Axton said are dead on. One of the Reasons I am getting out of the Military is that I am typed as ordnance and will not get a good posting after this. And If I stay in ordnance I will be ending up with a company as Sergeant Parker described. I want to live a long life with all my parts intact. Staying in Ordnance at this time is not a good way to have that.”


Liz and Axton spent the next 2 hours taking the Congressman all over the ASP and to all the current ammunition operations. His assistant was writing a book from all the notes he was taking.

When they were done the congressman thanked them.
“This was the best and most complete and honest briefing I have ever gotten. You two are a real credit to the US Army. Sergeant Axton, I hope you do well in your next posting. Sergeant Parker, I would like a word with you alone.”

They moved a little distance.

“You are going to OCS. What after that?”

“Aviation. I am thinking of becoming a rotorhead.”

“Combat?”

“Yes sir. I want to be able to shoot back with a lot more than I am shot at with. I would like to end up driving an Apache.”

“Good luck. If someone is giving you a problem because you are a woman, I want to know about it. It’s time the military was dragged out of the Stone Age on this.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I owe you Liz. I pay my debts.”


The SECDEF read the full report the following morning. Then he called the Undersecretary.
“This is a failure of your department. Critical area not identified. I have no doubt that next week when I testify before the committee, the Congressman will be chewing me on this. I want a plan to present him on how this problem will be solved.”


Colonel Hough briefed the Division commander. After he was done the Commander sat back and looked at him.

“You think he will confront SECDEF next week on this.”

“I would put serious money on that, Sir.”

“The sergeants really unloaded.”

“Yes sir. And I cannot reasonably disagree with anything they said.”

“I can’t either.”



SECDEF took his seat before the House Armed Services Committee. The Chairman thanked him for his attendance. Then turned to his right.

“The Honorable Congressman from Georgia would like to ask some questions.”


“Mr Secretary, the recent incident in Iraq, the explosion at a ammunition storage site, was it or was it not due to an endemic problem with Ammunition Specialists in the US Army?”


The SECDEF had decided to play along; he had had way too many confrontational situations already; if he could avoid one he would in this case.

“Basically yes.”


“I asked the Undersecretary of Defense for Personnel for a report on Ammunition Specialists in the US Army, specifically the MOS 89B. The report made for unpleasant reading and I have had it put into the Congressional Record. The bottom line is that the Ammunition field in general, and the personnel field part of Ammunition in particular, is bad explicitly due to the failure of the US Army at the senior level over a period of decades to give proper recognition, attention and funding. What is in the past is in the past. Mr Secretary, what are you going to do to fix that situation?”

“Sir, this is a problem as you have said that has been in the making for many years. From all previous administrations and congresses going back at least 20 years. The only real solution is to make it clear again and again that Ammunition is a priority. That should be self evident to any military but it has not been so as regards the US Army. I have my staff working on specific proposals. One of the suggestions I am considering is adding the 89B MOS to the Stop Loss program. For the future since right now as you have stated and the report makes clear, there are not that many right now that are worth keeping. I am going to make it a Army policy hat the condition of the ordnance company will be an increased factor in the rating of commanders at brigade level and above, all the way to Major Command level as regards all areas of Ammunition. Those officers that inherited bad situations and did not improve them will be downgraded at the same level as having combat units fail inspections and failing as operational units. If you do not have 75% of your 89B’s positions filled with trained and qualified personnel you will fail. That should start down the road of making commanders take proper notice of Ammunition. I am directing the Undersecretary of Defense for Personnel to make filling 89B positions a critical need. There will be expanded training programs and more classes held per year. What I will further request is increased funding for Ammunition procurement and the steady improvement of ammunition facilities and equipment. Those are my basic proposals, sir.”


The congressman nodded. “That sounds like a good start, Mr Secretary. I just this last week visited Ft Stewart and talked with the personnel at that ASP. What they told me filled out the in between the lines part of that report. Clearly there needs to be a sustained change of attitude that starts at the top and is maintained all the way down to company level. That all starts with you, sir. You must set the tone.”


The SECDEF got that message loud and clear. The congressman was telling him that if he worked hard in this area the SECDEF would get help in other areas. As an old Washington hand, SECDEF knew a good deal when it was offered.

“I can promise you sir that I will set a new tone and those below me that are tone deaf will regret that.”



True to his promise, the very next week a SECDEF directive went out to all services with particular emphasis to the Army that Ammunition would no longer be the despised bastard. It was now a favored legitimate son.


Sergeant Williams knew Sergeant Alexander casually. He received his transfer orders the day after the Congressman had visited the base. Rumor as usual had moved with the speed of light and it was fairly accurate. He remembered the interview with Major Simmons. He sought out Alexander to talk to him.

“Sounds like command really got shook up by that visit.”

“Yep, I got word that the ordnance company is losing virtually everyone over a period of just a few months this summer. I am surprised command is taking it this seriously.”

“Yeah. But one cannot say that it’s wrong. Ordnance has been given way too low a priority in the Army for a long time.”

“We were lucky in our deployment, we had a good ordnance company. Not many other divisions can say the same.”

“I guess it will be mostly up to us to make sure the ordnance company stays good.”



They both arrived at the Ordnance company office the day after the SECDEF’s appearance before Congress. Word had already trickled down that there would be big changes; if the SECDEF held to his promise about grading officers heavily on ammunition matters that would indeed have a serious effect. Nothing got the attention of ambitious officers more than that.


Captain Rogers was waiting for them and took them into his office and had the door closed.

“You two were chosen because you were the best available NCO’s this division had for these positions. The importance of the Ordnance Company has been recently raised to a much higher level. The scrutiny will be increased greatly. Sergeant Williams, you will be working with Sergeant Axton, who has been the senior NCO in this company for five years. Much of the reason it is good is because of him. Sergeant Alexander, you will be working with Sergeant Parker, our best 89B. With all due respect to Sergeant Axton. She is leaving in May; Sergeant Axton is leaving at the end of June. That gives you, Sergeant Williams, 7 months and you Sergeant Alexander, just under 6 months to learn what you need to know. The QASAS here at Ft Stewart have already let us know that they will be available for training. That will be done. Dismissed.”


Sergeant Axton then took Williams to his office and Liz took sergeant Alexander to her office.

Alexander was well aware of who Sergeant Parker was; everyone in the division knew of her. Tiny, cute as a button, smart and tough. She would have had to have been to have gotten herself and her people out of that clusterfuck. And then having a Congressman, and more particularly a congressman on the Armed Services Committee, thinking he owed her his life was something to think about as well. Like most combat veterans, he had doubted that that piece of shrapnel would have seriously injured or killed him; but you never knew. And she had certainly taken the hit for him.

Liz liked what she saw of Sergeant Alexander. Good looking without being too good looking; did not have that arrogant air all too many like that had. Had a very good record or Simmons would not have picked him.

“Thomas, call me Liz. My job is to teach and your job is to learn. We have less than six months for you to learn what it has taken me 3 years. Obviously you cannot become as knowledgeable as I am now in 6 months, but you can learn enough to do your job well. First off, outside of what you have picked up in the infantry, what do you know of Ammunition and how it is handled and worked?”

“Liz, I know a fair amount about transporting it; not much about storage or working on it.”

“OK. Here is a basic outline that I have come up with that shows what I do here at the Ordnance Company. I have put the appropriate references in each row so you know where to go to find out why it is done that way.’

Liz then handled him a blackbinder that had about 200 pages in document protectors. He opened it up and looked at it. He whistled as he went through it quickly.

“This is more than a full time job.’

“Yes it is.”



A few days later the newbies were talking to each other at lunch.

“Axton really knows his stuff; never knew how much there was to learn.”

“Parker is a workaholic; she does the work of 3 easily. Which is necessary due to the lack of competent 89Bs. But she also has it all written out with references to the regulations. So I have a real good fall back reference.”

“Make a copy for me. Axton told me that Parker is the best 89B he has ever had. And she is organized up the wazoo.”


For years to come, Liz’s book would be the bible of the Ft Stewart Ordnance company, and would get spread around gradually over many others.


Liz looked around her office. This was the last day for her before she took 2 weeks leave and then reported to Ft Benning for OCS. Maria and the others had taken her out last night and they had had a blast. There was a dinner being held for her at a local restaurant. She had just a little while ago been given an award for sustained superior performance signed by the Division Commander; he had presented it personally. She was accumulating a very nice file of commendations and awards. Which would help in the future before promotion boards.

Sergeant Alexander had proven a quick study and was already copying her habit of talking to the QASAS as much as possible. She felt he would do a good job. Sergeant Williams looked like he would do well as the company senior NCO. The new supply techs had been worked on hard by Maria and Tess and they thought they would do ok. The going away party by Maria, Tess and Isabelle had been a little emotional. But they had all been admitted to Georgia for the fall term so Liz would find a way to visit on occasion and they could always talk to each other on the phone.


The new company Commander was already studying under Rogers, and Liz thought he would do well. Major Simmons had told her at the award ceremony that they thought that the Ordnance company would do OK, if not as good as it had been.

The SECDEF memorandum had really shaken things up; much more notice was taken of the Ammunition field, and in particular the 89B MOS. And the media had gotten into the act. There had been several requests to talk to Liz from the media; which had been refused with Liz’s full approval. She did NOT want to become the poster child for anything; if she was getting out of the Military it would be OK; but as she was staying in for the time being it would be bad.


Liz felt pretty good as she left the dinner; Colonel Hough and Major Simmons had been there as was just about everyone from the Ordnance company. IT was good to be appreciated.



The only not so good note had come from Maria the night before.

“Liz, you really need to start dating. It is no fun being a nun.”


And Liz had thought about that some since. Maria was right. Problem was that dating anyone in the same unit was looking for trouble; and dating anyone out of your unit was hard to do when you were as busy as Liz had been. Dating a civilian meant actually meeting one worth dating; and then the fact that in a few years you would be going anyway. Well, not much chance of her finding time in the next 2 years.

Liz spent a week visiting her mother; then left for Benning. She was able to get into her quarters early; and was able to wander around benning and talk to some people. She found that her old 89B instructor was still there and talked to him.

“How has the SECDEF’s directive changed things?”

“Certainly stirred them up. Funding for more classes and more instructors. And the fact that a Brigade commander got relieved due to that mess in Iraq has tightened things up a lot. Now the question is will this be maintained long enough to change the atmosphere. That is the real question. I guess one can hope. You have done very well. As I had hoped. Sad to see you leave the 89B but I can hope that you will come back to it someday. If the emphasis remains, in four or five years 89B and ammunition will be looked upon as a good assignment.”


As Liz found out, OCS was pretty tough. She had expected it, but it was still tough and not particularly pleasant. But she toughed it out; her experience and nature responding to the challenge. There were 160 in her class; 40 to a section. She was determined to lead her section by the end of the OCS. Fortunately for her that her inclinations to study and bent towards organization helped her immensely. She had always been good at tests and this was no different.


After 6 weeks the course instructors gathered for their midterm review. One of the functions they had to determine was class ranking.

“Section 1, I need your top 5. The rest of you the same. I want them by noon today. All reviews and anything derogatory I want by 1700 today.”


The chief instructor was busy compiling the overall ratings. He talked to each Section Instructor to discuss the leading candidates.


“So as regards Section 3. You have Jenkins and Parker as 1 and 2; and your note says that there is a fair amount of distance to three.”


“Yes sir. Its neck and neck with those two and well clear of the rest. Parker has aced the tests while the field exercises Jenkins is better and I give him the overall edge because of that but it is close.”


“This is just between us, but I was told to keep a special eye on Parker for obvious reasons. Apparently that congressman has maintained an interest and the Pentagon has noticed. Is Parker just good at tests and OK at the rest?”


“No sir. Jenkins has had the edge in the field tests so far due to experience at his old MOS. Frankly, from what I have seen, Parker will probably over take him in field tests in the second half. I noticed that she steadily improved in everything she has done.”


“That is good. Keep me informed.”



Liz fell into her bunk just about every night exhausted. Her drive to exceed and excel sometimes was a curse. Yet she could honestly say she had never been so challenged and a part of her really liked the fact that she was being stretched. They were doing so many different things like night navigation and the like of which she had never done before; only read about. She had prepared as much as she could but the reality was a lot tougher.


Nancy had made a special trip to see Liz graduate and receive her commission. Liz had told her just the night before that of the original 160, only 122 had made it. She did not know how high she was in the class but figured she was first in her section that would graduate 34.


Liz checked her uniform carefully. It was her old Class A without the stripes but with all her ribbons. Second Lt Bars would be pinned on her uniform that day.


The top 5 students would be awarded first; then the rest by Alphabetical order. Liz was pretty sure she was in that top 5.



“Our first OCS graduate is the top student in this class. Elizabeth Rogers, front and center.”


Liz managed to get through the ceremony without screwing up; the Commanding General of Ft Benning was doing the awards.


Nancy was so proud. She took lots of pictures. Liz was the only woman of the top 5; and only 23 women made it through. She noted that Liz also had more decorations or as they called them ribbons than anyone else in the entire class.


Liz was dazed as she accepted the congratulations and fingered the bars that the General had pinned on her. She huged her mother then was startled to see someone else come up and congratulate her.

“Congressman! I am surprised you are here.”


“I try to make these at least once a year. Was certainly not going to miss this one. Top of the class. I expected no less.”


“Mom, this is the congressman that I knocked over in Iraq.”


“Saved my hide in the process. Pleased to meet you, Mrs Parker. You are very proud of your daughter, I think it is safe to say.”


“VERY proud sir.”


“Hate to go to business, Lt, but what have you heard as regards the emphasis in the Ammunition Area?”


“So far so good, Sir. The early signs are looking better. If this keeps up in 5 years it might be considered a good thing to be a Ammo Spec.”


“That is good. Congratulations, Lt. Good day, Mrs Parker.”



The general had stood off a ways watching this. He turned to his aide. “I recognized Parker at the last minute. I see that the Congressman has not forgotten her. Has she received her request; as top of the class she should get it?”

“I will make sure of that sir.”


The congressman came up to the general.

“I saw that the class was about average for graduation size. The low number of women is a concern.”


“Yes sir. We encourage them but the numbers are commissmerate with the percentage of women overall in the military.”


“Well, having one graduate at the top of the class is good.”




Liz was lucky in that there was only 2 weeks between the end of OCS and the beginning of the Aviation class at Ft Rucker. Otherwise she would have been left cooling her heels doing scut work. She was able to get there early enough that she was not pulled in for that sort of thing; and could get a jump on the Aviation school curriculum.




She had as usual researched things; and the SERE part really jumped out at her. She had never camped much or had to make do in that way; so she went on a crash course of learning about how to do that; even going so far as to take what she found out and getting some simple tools and camping out. She was lucky it was still fairly warm as her efforts to build a shelter and make a fire with virtually nothing did not go too well. She spent a week working on it and by the end of it had a better idea about things. She learned how to do simple snares and to recognize edible plants from those that would poison her. Some of the things she had learned at OCS would help.



Liz had thought that OCS was hard; but Aviation school was tougher still in other ways. She had more time off, but needed it to recover. The book parts were fairly easy; it was the field stuff that was tougher. The initial part, called Basic Officers Leadership, was basic in some ways but pretty advanced in others. That was tough sometimes. She was lucky in that they got breaks for the Holidays. That helped. Then came the next part called Dunker training.

Getting wet was not too bad. Being strapped in a seat and then dropped in the water and turning upside down was not fun. Liz did OK, she did not panic and was able to get out without help which was the main thing. What came next was worse.


Liz groaned as she sat, soaking wet, outside the tank. Final Dunker training was basically a mock up of a helicopter, dropped in the water and getting out of it while upside down. Luckily for her she had always been a good swimmer. Unluckily she had been with a couple of candidates that had panicked and pretty much trampled her in their desperate efforts to get out.

An instructor came up to her.
“Parker. Are you injured?”

“Don’t think so sir; did get mauled some inside there.”

“Head over to the medics and get checked out STAT.”


Liz was bruised but otherwise OK and lined up with the rest of the group.

“All right that was just about a textbook example of what NOT to do. Everyone but Parker, Jones, Simms, Johnson go back in for another one. You four did well despite the efforts of your companions. You did not panic and got out of there in one piece.”


That was the worst time. The rest of it was wet and uncomfortable and probably would have scared the crap out of her if not for Iraq.


Then came SERE which was basically how to escape and evade and survive if shot down and in enemy territory. She was lucky; she would not be part of the group required to go through the resistance part meant to help you survive capture and interrogation.


Still it was pretty tough; she was glad she had done some preparatory work. The graduation part was being dropped off alone and expected to make it to a certain spot within 3 days with nothing but her uniform.


Liz was determined to do well as usual; but this was the toughest thing she had ever done. She was cold and wet and hungry and aching all over. March in Alabama was nowhere near as warm as she had hoped it would be. But she gritted it out and made it to the point in time. She knew she had not excelled, but in this case she did not give a damn. She had gotten it done and that is what counted. Luckily everyone was given a week of light duty after that; they all needed that time to heal up and recover.


After that the water survival part was almost a piece of cake. She knew she had done well in that part and her natural optimism had come back.


Next came the first parts of how to lead soldiers and to familiarize oneself with the Basic tenets of Military Law. Liz did well though she had never thought all that well as regards lawyers.



The next part, called Aviation Branch Basic Officers course, was when they finally started to do aviation stuff, including the aircraft maintenance process, general aviation doctrine, and US and foreign vehicle and aircraft identification; basic familiarization with US ARMY in particular aviation. That was really interesting and Liz got into that big time.


Then came what was called AEROMED; there they learn how flight affects physiology, toxicology, gravitational forces and other subjects pertaining to flight and the human body. Getting poked and prodded and worked over was fun and was borderline painful at times.


Then came the real training on flying. It started out as what was called Initial Entry Rotary Wing Training (IERW).


The first day, Liz was paired up with a Captain Thomas; and got into a TH67, which he explained was what most Police copters were, a Jet Bell Ranger. Liz had seen them before so at least she had some idea.

“Ever flown in a chopper before?”

“Once when I was medevaced in Iraq.”


He blinked at that. “Combat?”


“Mortar round landed in the ASP I was at and I caught a piece in my back. It was really not bad enough but they called in the chopper anyway.”


Then he remembered; he thought the name had sounded familiar. Well so far she was doing well. But even good soldiers sometimes made lousy pilots so they would see.


Liz felt really good; this is what she wanted to do. Fly. The Captain took them up and they flew for almost 30 minutes while he explained things. They needed that closed helmet because she had not really believed just how noisy helicopters were. They landed and with the other students a critique was given. This would happen after every flight.


The instructors eased everyone into it; Captain Thomas said that the idea of throwing people in the pool and seeing if they can sink or swim does not work with flying. The aircraft are much too expensive. Bodies they can always get, he said with a bloodthirsty grin that made Liz laugh.


Within a week Liz got her hands on the controls; she was thrilled but managed to maintain control pretty well. Hover training first; and that was a lot harder than one might think. Then moving slowly forwards; then turning slowly; then moving backwards slowly. Everything was done slowly.


One fact that was drilled into them every day was to do a very good and thorough pre flight check. Captain Thomas told her that in helicopter accidents, a faulty pre flight check was a factor in almost half of them.


They gradually moved to harder tasks; interspersed with classroom as what was done in the flying was first done in the classroom then the simulator then the actual chopper.


Liz remembered well the day she did everything except land; pre flight, take off, fly and then hover while the instructor landed. She could not wait to do it all.

That opportunity came after a rough period when Captain Thomas told her she needed to relax.


The first time she had landed, she had thought she had done well but the instructor told her that she had not done as well as she had thought.

“You got tunnel vision. Concentrating so much on carefully landing you did not register anything else. You need to figure this out. Here are some guides into relaxation and prioritization while flying.”


That was tough for Liz to grasp; concentration and focus had been a part of her life as long as she could remember. She tried meditation and while that helped after it did not help during. Finally she tried visualization and keeping to a process and that worked.

Two weeks later she soloed. She was about one third the way down the class ranks but she was content. The experience was glorious.


Next came instruments and that was a lot tougher. Relying on them instead of what you could see was hard to do. Liz worked through it steadily if not spectacularly. She was finding it hard to get used to not being one of the top students. She was in the top 3rd but that was still a comedown.


Basic Combat skills required them to transition to the UH1; which Liz liked better. It was lighter and easier to control if more sensitive to the controls.


Then they began to work on coordinating artillery strikes; calling it in themselves which meant figuring exactly where the strike was needed and getting that clearly to the ground controller.

Coordinating multiple choppers came next; Liz did better there though she was not sure why. She just did.


Now almost 6 months had gone by; three more months in the IERW. It was getting towards the Holidays again. Liz was a little lonely but had been able to visit the girls at Athens a couple of times. That had been great and helped her relax.


The next part was called Night Vision. They spent several days using them in a blacked out room; getting used to them. Then they started flying at night; just as observers getting used to the idea and the goggles and their limitations.

Liz was nervous the first time she was actually flying using goggles; it was nerve wracking but she gradually got with it. After 4 weeks she was doing what she had done during the day at night, if not so easily or as stress free. Captain Thomas told her that she was progressing well and that helped.


Then the Christmas break came and Liz volunteered to stay at the school with a few on the instructors to get in more practice. Only about a dozen of the class did; most of them that needed more work. Liz was really the only one doing well that stayed and she ended up helping some of the others.


The Chief of the instructors talked to Captain Thomas about Parker.

“How is she doing?”


“She is steadily getting better. She had a rough period early on but forced herself through it; she is quite solid. Not inspired or brilliant; but very strong in all areas. One thing is that she is constantly improving. I think she may be one of those that might not be really great starting out but keeps working at it and eventually does it the hard way. Her staying over is an example of that; and she is good at instructing. I think down the road she would be a good addition to the school.”


As the Night vision courses resumed after the Christmas Break, Liz found that the extra time and practice came in handy. She gradually became somewhat comfortable flying at night using the goggles.

The next part was truly hair raising; they began to get basic instruction on how to land a damaged chopper. Practicing auto rotation was something more than a thrill; it was terrifying. Once again it was classroom, then simulators, then the real thing. Liz found that while terrifying, she was pretty good at auto rotation. They were taught to not so much listen for trouble as that was pretty hard to so with the hearing protection and helmets on, but more of a feel, vibrations and the like. And told that while they should rely on the readouts of their instruments, that sometimes they would lie and you had to double check as best you can.

After scaring the students with the work on emergencies, the next was less terrifying but more mentally stressful as they started to work on becoming units. They were organized into platoons with rotating commanders. Heavy use was made of simulators tied together called the Symnet.

There was a gap between classes that happened to coincide with Labor Day and the class was given a couple of extra days. Liz took advantage and headed over to Athens to visit her friends. Maria, Tess and Isabelle were just starting their second year at Georgia and had gotten an apartment together. Liz had a blast letting her hair down and partying.

After getting plastered that Saturday night, Liz shuffled down to the kitchen and made coffee. Maria was soon with her, both slowly surfacing from their hangovers.

“So, Chica, how goes the rotorhead business?”

“Getting there, slowly. It’s tough for me not being at the head of the class; I am only in the top 3rd so far.”

Maria giggled, then regretted that. “Ouch. Don’t make me laugh. Liz, it’s OK not to be first, you know.”

“I guess. Tough lesson for me to learn. But I am getting there. Flying is great; it’s very definitely what I want to do. I have only just under 4 months to go.”

“Decided which one to go for?”

“I like the idea of the Kiowa; small and quick.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

Glaring at her friend, Liz went on. “But I think I am going to fall in love with the Master Nasty.”

“What is that?”

“What I call the Apache.”
“OOOhhh. You like BIG guns.”

“Ya.”

Maria was pensive. Liz looked at her friend. “What?”

“Dating anyone?”

“When would I have time?”

“No excuse.”

Liz sighed. “I guess I am afraid to start; anyone I meet now I am going to be leaving. No one in my class really revs my engine.”

“Well at least maybe you are thinking about it.”

“Yeah. I would like to.”

“Well I guess that is progress.”

“How about you?”

Maria ducked her head and Liz’s eyes got huge. She squealed and they both held their heads in pain.

“Ugh Liz.”

“Sorry but SPILL.”

“His name is Michael and he is an artist but looks nothing like one.”

“Details.”

“Rough looking. Old style Marlon Brando.”

“OOOHHHH.”

“Yeah.”

Tess and Isabelle slowly made their way in and went for the coffee.

“So how about the two walking zombies?”

Tess and Isabelle fried her with a look.

“Tess is seeing a guy who is in criminology-cop family. Kyle. Iz is seeing a computer geek named Alex.”

“Computer geek?”

“Alex is much more than a computer geek” Isabelle proclaimed loftily.

“Wow. Sounds like everyone is getting some except me.”

“Told you being a nun is no fun.”

Tess looked at her friend. “Liz, really, you have got to get out there before you officially become a spinster.”

“Yeah a spinster who loves big guns.”

Isabelle and Tess both blinked.

“Liz is going to be an Apache driver.”

“OOOHHHH. Big guns.”

“ya.”

Liz smiled as she remembered the weekend as she sat waiting for the class to begin. They were back into working as platoons in constantly rotating groups. She was definitely doing better; she was more and more comfortable running a group. She had quietly put in her bid for the Apache; and for the 101st Aviation brigade at Ft Campbell, Kentucky. They had been told they would get their assignment soon.

Captain Thomas was lead instructor this day and called the class to order in the lecture hall.
“All right first off everyone got their first choice as regards type. That usually happens but congratulations anyway. Here are you post assignments. I will call out your name and come and get it.”

Liz tore open her envelope and read the contents. She smiled. She got what she wanted.

4 weeks later she got her first ride in an Apache. IT was love at first site. She had never even seen one up close until coming to Rucker. Now she had and she wanted one.

An Apache was pure nasty; it was meant to blow things up and take punishment. It was the chopper version of the A-10. The Pilot sat in the second position behind the copilot who normally was the main gunner. But all weapons could be fired from both seats. It had a tricycle landing gear, which was different than most helicopters. All in all it was a very different type of chopper..

And it had serious bite. A 30 MM chain gun in the chin; two pods carrying 2.75” rockets and the stubby wings could also handle 4 Hellfire missiles. Just in case the tip pylons could each hold a Stinger.

The versions they would be flying were unarmed of course; but had been configured so that the pylons and everything else were there and loaded with weight so that the training models would act exactly as the real thing loaded for war would.

The class had been broken up so that each class now was concentrated with the various different types of chopper. Liz and 21 other students would now spend all their time learning about the Apache. She was glad she would still be working with Captain Thomas; she was very comfortable learning from him.

It was a very sophisticated aircraft for a Helicopter; rumor had it the only birds that were more were the special operations versions that had all sorts of rumored goodies. Its electronics rivaled the newest fighters; the bird itself was finely put together. The Apache had been in service coming onto 20 years so the bugs had been mostly worked out. Early on there had been some trouble with the radios; it was finally figured out that some of the electronic systems conflicted with the radios. They had been built by different companies and no one had thought to test them out together. So when they were put in the Apache and she started to operate, the troubles puzzled everyone for years. But that had been sorted out. They had had an impressive record in war.

Any helicopter is much more susceptible to battle damage than just about any airplane. The rotors were very vulnerable; and the engines were huge heat producers that meant any heat seeking missile had great targets. You could not armor a helicopter like you could an A-10. During the initial battles in the Iraq war, a battalion of Apache’s had flown into a flak trap that had shot one down and had damaged 30 others in the most notorious action yet. But people forget that with what was shot at them the enemy still only knocked one down and all but a few were easily reparable. The Apache’s had historically dealt out hundreds of hits for every one they took.

The first time Liz was at the controls of an Apache she was in the copilot seat; as was procedure. It was very different then the pilot seat. Depending on the manning situation where she went, Liz might be a copilot before a Pilot slot opened up; which might take several months. So getting to know what it was like in the front seat was a good idea anyway. Liz loved the power of the ship; even fully loaded she had plenty extra. It was very maneuverable if not as much so as the UH1. But then it was a lot bigger and heavier as well.

One not so fun thing about the Apache was the huge preflight check list. Which was not surprising considering the complexity of the helicopter. Liz was glad they would get 12 full weeks to get used to it. She figured she would need every one.

Being a pilot mean having check sheets and log books and all sorts of records; which was normal for Liz anyway. Your pockets were always full and you never went anywhere without a notebook. It was very complicated but very ordered and organized and as always Liz felt comfortable in that.

Four weeks after her first flight, Liz did her solo. And from that time on she flew in the pilot seat and the Instructor flew in the copilot seat. The next 8 weeks Liz truly loved it. She was home and she knew it; she was an Apache Driver and that was where she belonged.

The last two weeks the Apache students were allowed to start firing the weapons of the armed birds available. The first time Liz fired the 2.75’s she was gassed; she was very good at putting 30MM on target and she did miss a single shot with the hellfires.

The instructors were working on their final reports and recommendations; class placement was not truly a great deal. Just that everyone wanted to make sure that no mistakes were made.

The Chief Instructor went over each student one by one.
“Parker.”

“As I put in my preliminary, she constantly works at improving her skills. She takes every spare minute to do more and it shows. She has progressed to the point that she is close to being the best Apache candidate we have. She is extra good at placing munitions on target. She was the only one that never missed with a hellfire and no one did any better with the rockets or the gun. Her scores in the simulators are very close to what she does in the bird itself; that is rare. All indications are that she keeps a cool head in high stress situations. I cannot really find anything that I can ding her on. Outside of maybe needing a telephone book to sit on.”

The Chief instructor had to laugh at that. It was interesting seeing the tiny pilot in the apache cockpit. “One could consider her small size an advantage; less of a target to hit and that lower weight is not something to sneeze at. A couple of the other pilots outweigh her by 100 lbs. That counts.”

“Yes it does. I have no problem signing her off with no reservations or restrictions.”

They were lucky in that the graduation Ceremony would be on Dec 18. Just in time for everyone to head off for Christmas. As luck would have it the girls would be able to make it, Christmas break starting day before. Nancy had flown in. Liz would fly back with her and stay for two weeks before heading back to report to Ft Campbell, Kentucky.

Liz ended up being ranked 14th out of a class of 91, but more to the point she was 2nd among the Apache candidates. She had made up a lot of ground in the last three months. She was content with her lot.

Once again Nancy took lots of pictures; very proud once again that her daughter clearly had more decorations than any other student. Liz would get her promotion to 1st Lt upon arrival at Ft Campbell. Nancy had been looking around for the last several years for another job and had found one; she would be telling Liz that she was now a State Employee of Ohio. Specifically Colombus, working in the State Department of Transportation as a Personnel officer. It was good money and she would be able to bring her 23 years with her to Ohio. Which meant she only had to work 15 more to retire. And it was less than 400 miles to Ft Campbell.

Liz was happy the graduation ceremony was over and she could be with her mother and her friends. They had a good time over dinner before they all headed off to visit their families for Christmas Break. Liz and Nancy would stay at a motel before flying out the next day back to Wyoming.

Liz looked at her mother; something was up.
“OK, mom, Spill. Something is up.”

Nancy smiled. “I got another job. With the state of Ohio as a personnel officer with the Department of Transportation. Columbus Ohio. Which is only 400 miles from Ft Campbell.”

“Mom that is great! We will be able to see each other more.”

“Already have the house up for sale and hope to have it sold in a month. My job starts in February.”

“I will see if I can get some leave and help you.”

“That would be nice but I can do it.”

“I want to. Well I can at least clean my room out.”

“Are you going for Base Housing?”

“Yes. I should get it.”

“With all the money you have saved over the years, by the time you want to buy a house you might be able to pay cash.”

“Well not quite. And I want to save a fair amount for other things. One of which is I am going to take more vacations now. “

“That is good to hear; I always have thought you need to do more of that.”

“Well I intend to. And I am going to start examining the local male population and start hunting.”

“Finally.”

“Mom.”

“Liz, you are about to be 24 and you have not dated at all since you were in High School, and not much there.”

“Well I now know what I want to do and have gotten most of the work out of the way.”

“You really love flying?”

“It’s what I have been looking for.”

“That reminds me. Don’t you have to take college courses?”

“Winning the DSC took care of that. Now as regards promotions beyond flying, yeah I will need to do that. But I am more thinking that I will try and get my 20 in, then go for civil aviation. As long as I can fly I will be happy. From what Captain Thomas said, he was my instructor, I can probably make it to Major before the lack of higher education stops me. That gives me at least 8 years. And lots of flying experience. So even if I get the heave ho at that point, I should have no problem getting a good job.”

Nancy took in the relaxed and confident manner Liz was showing; she seemed very content. Which was all she wanted for her daughter.

Liz was able to gather everything she wanted from the house and send it to Ft Campbell. She actually had very little besides clothes. Nancy was fortunate and got a good offer within days and accepted it. They started to pack up and got most of it done before Liz left to head to Ft Campbell. She would fly to Rucker where she had left her car and then drive there. She realized that she had more books, references, notebooks and the like then she actually had civilian clothes. The back seat and trunk of her small car were full of that.

Ft Campbell, Kentucky straddled the border with Tennessee, at the far western part of the state, not far from Illinois. Hilly and wooded; an hours drive from Nashville. Liz loved the look of the area; she had become addicted to green and trees. There were lakes and good sized rivers around. It was a little cooler than Rucker had been; and about as wet.

Liz checked in on Jan 5, 2007. She reported to the 101st Aviation Brigade HQ. The Brigade had just returned and personnel were changing out. The Battalion CO was in and greeted her.

“Lt Parker. Glad to have you aboard. You picked a good time to show up; lots of work needs to be done.”

“Yes sir. It looks like you are having a fairly heavy personnel turnover here.”

“Always do right after a deployment. You will probably get a bird right off; but flying will not come soon. We have some here for training but our operational ships will not be ready for a month at least.”

“Understood sir.”

Liz was put to work getting her own paperwork done and starting up. It was very busy. She was put in A Company of the first battalion. 1st Platoon. Each platoon had 4 Apache’s; 2 platoons to a company; 3 companies to a battalion. Her platoon commander was a 1st Lt like her, James Winston. The other two were WO’s, Ken Simpson and Jake Logan. The copilots were all WO’s. She was lucky in that the two warrants had just made Pilot; so she was not so much the newbie as she had thought she could be. She had yet to meet her Copilot, who was also new as was two other copilots. So of the 8 pilots and copilots in A Company (known as Spectres), herself and 3 WO’s were new to the unit. But she was the only recent graduate of the School. All the copilots were relatively new; most having graduated in the last year. The Platoon commander was the only real veteran, she found out. He had been there for almost 3 years and would probably be transferred out in the next year. It did not take a rocket scientist for Liz to realize that she was thus being slotted to take command of the platoon in the not so far off future. The other platoon was much the same; Captain ED Griffith, was also the company commander. It was interesting as that platoon also had two officers like hers did. All the rest were WO’s.


The first few days was meet and greet and get to know each other. Liz would always smile when she remembered meeting her copilot, WO2 Ted Dugan. It was the third day, early in the morning. Her quarters were comfortable; she was not sure if she would stay in BOQ or find something outside. She had just got into the HQ when Griffith called to her.

“Parker, here is your copilot. Ted Dugan, Liz Parker. You two spend some time getting to know each other. There will not be any flying for at least a few weeks while they are working on your bird. We have some new Pilots that need time in the trainers; Parker since you just got out of school you are last in line.”

Liz looked up to Ted. And up. He was about 6’2” at least. He grinned at her.
“Gonna need a phone book?”

“How is the weather up there?”

ED Winston watched this and smiled; they would be fine. He had not served with a female officer yet in the same platoon. But her record certainly was not skimpy even if she was a new pilot. But flying an Apache in combat was very different. She had done well at the school; 2nd in her class in Apache’s. She was tiny though. But that was not a bad thing in the pilot seat of an Apache.

Liz and Ted got on like a house on fire. He treated her as his older sister and she treated him as a younger brother. He had transferred in from the 1st ID Aviation Brigade when they had too many. He had come out of Rucker in the class just before Liz’s. Like her, he had not flown all that much. He had come to the 101st in hope of getting more flying time. And it looked like he had come to the right place.

Liz met her crew chief the next day, and the rest of the crew the day after. Her Chief was a somewhat grizzled Sarge named Gunt. Everyone called him Grunt. She had smiled at him.
“Sarge,is this a good bird?”

“It’s pretty new; did well over there. Has fewer problems because my birds ALWAYS have fewer problems as long as you pilots don’t screw up.”

“Sounds like a deal, Sarge.”

Liz found that she felt right at home with the people there in the Aviation Brigade. Here excellence was expected and demanded. Big change from working the ASP. Everyone knew her story and she had gotten some questions about that convoy and what had REALLY happened. At lunch the first week Ted asked.

“So, Liz, what was the REAL story about that convoy?”

Liz sort of smiled. “What did you hear?”

“Well, not long after it happened the word seemed to be that the LT was a total asshole and just about delivered that convoy on a platter to the bad guys. You got creative and managed to pull everyone out.”

“That is about it. He was a total Asshole. Damn near got us all killed. No one talks about the Sergeant he took with him. From what I was able to find out he was a pretty good guy. I wrote a letter to his parents later on, telling them that he had nothing to do with the screwup and was just in the wrong place with the wrong idiot at the wrong time.”

Ted blinked. “That was stand up to do.”

“Everyone around there told me the LT was a joke and the sergeant was always trying to salvage the situation. That time there was no way he could. Just goes to show you what happens when you have a Moron in command. I WANTED the family to know that if anyone tried to place any blame on him they were full of crap. They wrote me back a while ago telling me thank you, and they indeed had had some who were commenting that he had something to do with that clusterfuck.”

Unbeknown to Liz, right in hearing range was one of her crewmen. He quietly filled in the Sarge about that later.

Grunt was an old time soldier; never really liked having women in the military let along combat. But he had a few more years before retirement and knew he had to put up with them. Parker seemed nice enough; and competent enough. But what the crewman had told him made a difference. She was starting to move into the area of acceptance, past just someone to put up with.

The first few weeks dragged a little, until the choppers were done being refurbed. Then Liz got to fly and she loved it. Flying an Apache was complicated; but there were procedures to handle it and that always came easy for Liz. The actual stick time was what she lived for. She flew every moment she could; fired as much ammo as she could. And she was very good at that.

“Well, Parker sure does know how to shoot.”

“Yeah. Top shot by a couple of points.”

“How is she otherwise?”

“Well it’s no surprise that she is very organized. But she also seems to be able to improvise and react well to sudden situations. I really cannot fault her on much of anything; she is green of course but she is scrounging every flight minute she can get. And Ted let me know that she really makes it a point to let him do as much as possible as well. She loves to shoot but lets him take most of the shots. Fact is she is a fair amount better. They get in serious combat she should be the one taking the shot; he is good enough with the stick to take care of that end. Not saying he is really bad but she is a lot better.”

“How are her evals on him?”

“Say he is solid; needs to improve his shooting. But that is the only real gig she has on him. I have seen nothing to show that she is giving him an easy time or hard time. Just watching she seems like a natural instructor. She has Grunt on her side as well.”

“Well no wonder.”

“Word I got is that he was going that way even before she stood up for him.”

The incident had happened a week earlier. Grunt had gone to supply and gotten some replacement ignition cartridges and when opening the box found them short. He had gone back and the supply sergeant claimed it was Grunt’s mess up. As his Pilot, Liz had gotten the call when the Lt at the supply room called up to complain about her sergeant. Liz had gone right down there and laid into them. Demanded to see the magazine data cards. And the issue record. And the MDC had shown the count was off but the supply sergeant on taking them out of the ASP had screwed up. Liz’s background as an 89B had come in handy. From that point on Grunt was definitely in her corner.

“The word is that the head of the ASP ordered a special inventory and found a whole bunch of mistakes.”

“Yeah. Matter of fact there was some talk they wanted to grab Liz to be an observer on that since she had been an 89B. I managed to stamp on that with help from Brigade. The Ordnance company is short of good 89B’s and he was afraid they would go to the division commander and grab Liz and transfer her.”

“I doubt that would have happened.”

“I don’t know; the army has really tightened up there over the last couple of years. You know the word is, I got this from the Ordnance Company commander, is that Parker is one of the reasons behind the push for more 89B’s and making them more important.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. That congressman she saved was the one that put the SECDEF on the spot about the Ammunition specialists at a congressional hearing. He had visited the Stewart ASP the week before and talked to Parker then.”

“If they had transferred her, I wonder if she would have dropped a dime to the Congressman?”

“I do not see her doing that. But I would not be surprised if one of her friends did.”

“True. She seems to make friends easily.”

“Well she is a nice girl and just seems like everyone’s idea of a great kid sister.”

Liz still heard from Sgt Axton who had transferred to Ft Carson. The new emphasis on Ammunition had so far been maintained and he remarked that he was seeing signs it was sinking in. The ASP there had gotten new equipment and other funding increases.

Meanwhile the Division Commander of the 101st was talking to his G4.
“DO you think this info is accurate?”

“Sir, something like this happened at Bragg two years ago. Spec Ops is Spec Ops; sometimes the attitude of we can do whatever we want gets out of hand.”

“Technically this is not my responsibility.”

“True sir. It is on Ft Campbell and therefore is more the Installation Commanders area since Spec Ops is a tenant organization.”

“He is not liable to do anything?”

“Sir, he is about to retire and does not want the hassle.”

“Your information is pretty specific.”

“Yes sir. From people outside of Spec Ops who have been in their ASP.”

“Have you talked to our QASAS?”

“Yes sir. They have a hunch that the info is correct; but there are only two of them and they are very busy. There really should be a third QASAS just to keep an eye on them.”

“That has been pushed but shot down at higher HQ. The Berets apparently got offended at the suggestion and the brass showed yellow.”

“What about me having a quiet conversation with General Brown?”

“That might be the best way to go. Pressure from their HQ would get things done a lot faster.”

“How did that special inventory go?”

“Uncovered a pile of mistakes that should have been caught. Problem is that while the Army has started to wake up to the Ammunition Specialties importance, there is still a lot of dead wood and the new classes of 89B’s are just now hitting the Ordnance companies and they are GREEN. Our officers are not ordnance or ammo; and the senior sergeants are not either. The QASAS is working with them but one just got deployed and the other will have all he can do with the day to day work. The LAR is on sick leave and will probably retire. There just is not anyone with experience enough to really help down there.”

“We need help. Where do we get it?”

“Well sir, we do have an officer here on post that is a former 89B. Now in aviation as an Apache Driver.”

“Parker.”

“Yes sir.”

“Will her tame congressman scream if we pull her out of her Apache?”

“If we make it short term it should be OK. Just a month should do it; the new QASAS will be here by then and I made sure the Career Office sent us an experienced and good one. Parker can get it started and straightened out.”

“OK. Call her and the aviation brigade commander in.”


Liz wondered what was up; as far as she knew she had not screwed up anything. Why did the Brigade Commander want to see her?

Griffith was in the dark as well; he had gotten a call from the Brigade Commander that the Division commander wanted him and Lt Parker in his office in an hour. He had looked at Liz.
“You do anything?”

“Nothing I can think of.”

“Watch your six.”


Liz walked into the Brigade Commanders office; he motioned her to follow into his vehicle.
“Lt, do you have any idea what is going on?”

“None sir. I know I have not done anything that would have the Division commander after me and he would not do it personally anyway.”

“True. Well I guess we will find out quick enough.”

Liz was racking her brain when something niggled at her. The Colonel saw this.
“What?”

“A little more than a week ago I had to back up my crew chief over a discrepancy on impulse cartridges as regards to a faulty count. I demanded we go into the Mag and check the magazine data cards. It was screwed up. I know they did a special inventory and found a lot of problems. From what I could see in that one magazine there could be more.”

“That is right; you were an 89B. They might want to do a full wall to wall inventory and have you be part of it. I know there was talk of trying to pull you in when they did the special but I raised hell about it. That sounds like they found more problems than just inventory.”

They got to division HQ where they were showed right into the Commanders office and in there were the commander and the Division G4.

“Colonel, LT, I will get right down to it. Our ASP is screwed up bad. And because of a variety of reasons there is no one to be had to fix it. Therefore I am detaching Lt Parker from Aviation and giving her TDY to the Ordnance Company as acting Commander. A new one is on his way but things need to be done NOW. This should be only for a month or so.”

The colonel sighed and looked at Liz. She looked at him then at the General.
“Yes Sir.”

The general nodded. “The sustainment brigade Commander will take you down there. You are given full authority to do whatever it takes. Chop any rotten wood. I have gotten on the horn to the QASAS Career office and a new veteran QASAS will be here in one month. He will advise the new CO that is coming in. But I want you to get the heavy lifting done ASAP.”

Liz and the Sustainment Brigade commander only had a little while to talk. He was blunt.
“LT, you do what you have to. You will have full support all the way up the ladder and if anyone gives you any backtalk I want to know about it right then. That company has to be shocked into competence.”

“Yes Sir. Sir I have my materials from when I was at Stewart in my Quarters. I will need that ASAP.”

“Let’s stop by and get that now. You will have a driver and a vehicle at your disposal.”

The Brigade Commander walked into the office and the people there shot to their feet. He waved them down and headed to the Commanders office. Liz waited in the main room, well aware of all the eyes that were on her. She maintained a blank expression; all the while going through her mind what to do and what order it would come in. And how to do it. She realized she would have to come in hard and mean.

The Brigade Commander came out and looked around.
“I want every soldier in the Ordnance Company here immediately.”

Those in the office area started to scramble. Liz slipped out and got all her materials and was barely able to carry it all in.

In half an hour the entire ordnance company was assembled in the only room big enough; the break room at the Ordnance HQ. Even then it was a tight fit.

“Effective Immediately Captain Jackson has been relieved for cause. Lt Parker is now acting Commander. I will be blunt: this unit is a mess and she will be starting the cleanup. She has backup all the way to the Division Commander to do whatever she thinks she needs to. That is all.” He then left the building and Liz walked up and stood in front of them.

“I want all sergeants and officers in my office now.”

She was glad to see that the previous occupant was already gone. She walked in and sat behind the desk while the two other officers and 4 sergeants came in. They remained standing until she inclined her head and they sat.

“I know how a good Ordnance Company is run because I was part of one at Ft Stewart a little over two years ago. You are all aware of the new climate as regards Ammunition specialists and Ammunition in general. That is why this action was taken in this manner.” She calmly looked at them.
“Officers first by seniority, then sergeants alike. I want to know your responsibility and experience level in ammunition. Be brief. I will then ask each of you some questions.”

Liz waited till they left the room before forcing herself to relax. The two officers were typical ordnance officers; transferred there because they had screwed up elsewhere. The sergeants were not bad; they looked salvageable. Problem was they were not 89Bs. All the 89Bs were still E3 and E4. She took out the personnel files on them and saw that they looked ok. The LTs files showed what she expected. She called the Brigade commander.

“I just got back to my office, Lt. Just how bad is it?”

“The two officers have to go NOW. Typical screw-ups hidden in ordnance. The Sergeants are salvageable; the 89Bs I think are good enough just too green and too junior to do much. I need replacements for those LTs. Does not matter where they come from as long as they are good.”

“You will have two new ones by Tomorrow.”

Liz got off the phone and went outside – she noticed the officers were not in sight but just about everyone else was still there. They watched her like birds watching a hungry snake.
“89Bs. In My office now.” She looked at two supply techs. “Those documents on that table. Start making copies. I want a dozen ASAP.”

She looked at the 89Bs then started peppering them with questions- she took almost an hour. Then she let them go. One of the supply techs poked her head in the door.
“Sir, we have those copies.”

“Good work.”

She looked at the clock. It was almost noon. She went out the door. They were still all there.
“OK people I have to sort things out. Get outta here and eat. Be back at 1300 ready to start working. We might be here late tonight.”

Liz went back into the office and started to make notes. Her phone rang.

“Ordnance, Parker Speaking.”

“Liz. What is the scoop- all the Brigade commander told us was that you were TDY and nothing else.” If was Griffith.

“The ordnance company is hosed and I will be spending the next month starting the cleanup. Tell Ted to have fun flying.”

“OK. If you need cover fire let us know.”

“Might take you up on that. I am not going to be starting any cars or walking alone anytime soon.”

At the other end Griffith blinked. This was a Liz that sounded deadly serious. Just how bad was it?

Liz made some notes; then sat back and deliberately relaxed and closed her eyes. She decided that she had to go on as she had started.

At 1300 everyone was back and Liz began.

“These documents will be your bible from this point on. Any deviation from them will be scrutinized very closely. If you are wrong my foot will be up your ass. There is no leeway here. Let me make that clear. You will all spend the next hour going over this. Meanwhile I want to see all the SOPs that have anything to do with ammunition.”

Liz sighed as she looked at the last of the SOPs. None were out of date but they were all virtually worthless. Luckily she had kept copies of the ones she had had at Ft Stewart. She went out into the main room.
“OK. Here are sops from Ft Stewart that I used. You will take the current SOPs and replace them with these, making the necessary changes as regards Building numbers, phone numbers and the like. This will be done By Friday. Since this is Tuesday afternoon you will be working hard and long. I will assign the SOPs. Now- what issues are due out in the next few days?”

The supply tech that had told her the docs had been done came forward with some 1348-1’s in her hand. Liz looked at her.
“What is your name?”

“Supply Tech Ava Jamison.”

“OK, Ava. From now on you are the senior supply tech and you will inform me first thing each morning what is due to go out. I will be the only one signing 1348-1’s for the immediate future.”

“Yes sir.”

Liz took the 1348’s back to her office after she had assigned the SOPs to various people to do. The senior sergeant poked his head in a while later.
“Sir, the two LTs have been reassigned.”

“Make sure their offices are cleaned out tonight. There will be new officers here tomorrow.”

The Sergeant blinked and nodded. “Yes sir.”

He went out into the area where everyone was frantically going over the SOP’s. He sat next to one of the other sergeants.
“She rolled both of them already.”

Everyone within hearing distance started working faster.

At 1900 that evening Liz came out of her office and looked at everyone.
“We have done all we can today. Get some sleep tonight; we will have another long day tomorrow. I want everyone here at 0600.”

Liz personally locked the HQ building. She went out to find her driver waiting.
“Name?”

“Johnson, sir.”

“Take me to my quarters; Pick me up at O500 tomorrow morning. You will stay at the Ordnance HQ – I will be moving around more tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.”

Liz kept snacks in her room at the BOQ. Luckily by chance she had a couple of MRE’s there. She showered and ate them then fell into bed at 2100. She was up at 0430 and ready to go by 0500. The Mess hall did not open up until 0530 but one of the fast food places opened up then and they went there and got something for breakfast. She then unlocked the Building and went in and turned on the lights. She looked at him.
“Stick close. I will be moving a lot today.”

Everyone was in by 0600. Including two new Lts. She motioned them in to her office. And closed the door.
“What have you been told; and then give me a brief of your experience in the military.”

0630 she took them out of her office and introduced them to the rest of the Company. Then she told them to see to it that the two LTs read every single SOP that day.

After that she paused.
“We have some issues to make today. I will be doing them personally until I approve someone else to. Everyone but one 89B and a supply tech will stay in here working on SOPs.” She then called in the 89B she selected into her office.
“Here is the 1348. Tell me what you will do with it.”
His answers were acceptable and they went out into the area to pick up the supply tech and go out to the ASP.

The SOPs were indeed done by Friday Morning. She called up the Brigade commander.
“I have all new SOP’s ready to be signed off.”

“Have them brought to me; I will have my XO working them. How is it going?”

“Sir, for a while yesterday I got a slight glimpse at what Travis thought when Santa Anna showed up. But it’s getting better. The two new LTs are good; I think they will work out. I spent the last two days either doing necessary issues or working the SOPs. I am going to go through the magazines of the ASP one by one this weekend. I will be working everyone 12 hrs at least a day until further notice.”

“As long as progress is made there will be no questions, Lt.”

“Thank you sir.”

Sunday afternoon they closed the last magazine. There had been a fair amount of problems. The QASAS had come by on Saturday and told her that so far as he was concerned she was doing fine. He had already gone over the SOPs and had signed off; the Brigade XO had told her that by Monday they would all be approved.

They worked the rest of the week 0600 to 1800 each day. Then Friday she gathered everyone at 1700.
“People we have made a fair amount of progress. Get outta here but be back by 0600 Monday.”
If she had shouted raid in a cathouse the room could not have cleared faster.

She walked out and nodded to her driver. He took her to her quarters. She got into civilian duds and left the base to eat a quiet dinner on the town. Then went back to her quarters and slept like the dead until the next morning. She spent that day and Sunday deliberately not thinking about things; she called up Maria and the girls and talked for hours, not mentioning what was going on. Sunday she called her mother for a long talk. She did tell her mother that she was busy cleaning up someone else’s mess.

Meanwhile back at the Aviation brigade the rumors were trickling in from the rest of the division.
“I heard she had two Lts relieved and tossed off the installation right after the Brigade commander did the same to the Company commander.”

“I heard she ripped everyone a brand new one.”

“The blood was knee deep.”

“They had to bring in a box of air fresheners as half the company shit their pants.”

Griffith and Winston listened to this and shook their heads. They went into Griffiths office and shut the door. Winston looked at him.
“How bad is it?”

“She came in like Genghis Khan, is the word I got. Took no prisoners. Rolled the two Lts in an hour. She had replacements the first thing next morning. Worked their asses off 11 straight days. Then gave them the weekend off. Have not heard so far this week but it is only Monday morning.”

“Anyone questioning if she can do the hard things won’t anymore.”

“That might have been the only question I had about her; was she tough enough and mean enough to act like that in a situation that required it? That has been rather decisively answered in the affirmative.”

The next week Liz began to ease off as serious progress was made. The attitude of the Ordnance company began to move back from the terrified mode to the alert and watchful mode. They spent the next week cleaning up the magazines; the QASAS made time to come down and go over things. He was very happy with what she had done.

The Division commander looked at his G4.
“General Brown is going to do a surprise inspection of the Spec Ops Field ASP tomorrow. He will fly in with no notice and be at their gate. He is bringing with him an IG inspector, a CID man and a senior QASAS.”

“Good.”

“Sir?”

Liz looked up from the never ending paperwork at her new XO, Lt James.
“Yes?”

“Just got word that General Brown has arrived at the Field ASP for the Spec Ops with an inspection team. A no notice inspection.”

Liz blinked. “Maybe they had it worse than we did?”

“If we see any bodies hanging on the lamp posts at the main gate I guess we will know.”

Liz smiled, slightly. “That is my rep?”

“Yes Maam.”

“I can accept that. Keep your ears open.”

“Yes maam.”


“General Davidson, while this is technically not your concern, I wanted to let you know.”

“I take it that it was bad, General Brown?”

“Worse than your info had it. I have relieved everyone above the rank of sergeant there. I have informed Colonel Wilson. He has just accelerated his retirement to clear the way for a new installation commander. I am talking to FORSCOM now for someone to get here quickly. In the meantime, I have recommended to them that your Sustainment Brigade Commander, who was an installation commander at Ft Bragg a few years ago, be made temporary installation commander. Right now the Spec Ops Field ASP will be closed. Pending a full investigation. So any ammunition that will be issued for Spec Ops will come from the regular ASP. The QASAS here is going over the special ammunition records to see what is useable. But that will take a while. I have been informed that you shook up your ordnance company?”

“Yes sir. Two weeks ago. They have made significant progress under their acting CO.”

General Brown nodded. “I think a meeting with that Co and your Sustainment Brigade Commander is in order.”

“Yes sir.”

Liz had her driver take her to Division HQ. She had gotten a call to get there ASAP. She left Lt James in charge and moved.

She was told to go into the conference room. She found a 3 star and the Division Commander and what looked like a civilian and a CID and an IG officer. As well as the Sustainment Brigade Commander. She stopped and threw a rigid salute to the 3 star.
He returned it sharply. “At ease Lt.” Then motioned her to a seat between the Division commander and the sustainment commander. When she sat down the General began.

“I am General Brown. The results of a no notice inspection on the Special Operations command Field ASP by myself and this team (introducing them) resulted in the relief for cause of most of the leadership there. Pending a full inspection, investigation and inventory, the ASP will be closed until further notice. So any ammunition issue to Special Operations personnel will now have to come from the Division ASP. Lt Parker, I have already signed emergency authorization for you to issue for Special Operations. But only you. This authority cannot be designated. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir.”

“I have been informed that you have been cleaning up the Ordnance Company. Well you will now be cleaning up the Spec Ops ordnance detachment as well. You will start training up the remaining personnel alongside your own. They will be temporarily assigned to your ordnance company. If you believe they are not competent, then relieve them. You have full authority. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir.”

“They will report to your HQ at 0600 tomorrow. Make use of them as you see fit.”

“Yes sir.”

The remaining members of the Spec Ops ordnance detachment were gathered that night at one of their quarters. They were still shaken up.
“I heard this Parker is about the size of a Chihuahua but has six inch claws and eight inch fangs and laughs as she cuts you and bleeds you.”

“She gutted the Ordnance company in one hour. Worked their asses off for 11 straight days before she gave them a break. Scared the shit out of them.”

“I heard those Iraqi’s she killed were begging for mercy at the end.”

“I talked to a guy that was there. He said she ordered them to let some wounded ones lay there and scream to intimidate the others. Then offed them herself when she wanted some peace and quiet.”

Liz sat in her quarters. She wondered what could possibly come next. Still she girded herself up for the next morning.

Liz as usual got there early and opened up. To her surprise not 15 minutes later the Spec Ops people showed up. Well this was a good sign, she hoped.

“I am glad you are here early before the rest arrive. I want to make this very clear. General Brown personally gave me the authority to relieve any of you that I felt were not up to the task. I will do so if you give me reason. I will cut your professional throat without hesitation. BUT if you do a good job and show that the reason the Spec Ops ASP was a fucking piece of shit was not your doing, then you will get fair treatment from me. I already have read your personnel files. You will be working with me today and the next week at least so I can evaluate all of you.”

Liz was relieved when she was able to determine that the remaining members of the Spec Ops ASP were not incompetent or stupid. They had just been badly led. By Friday she called the acting Installation CO.

“Lt Parker, I would appreciate some good news.”

“I have some, sir. The remaining Spec Ops ASP personnel were not the problem. Give them the proper training and leadership they will do fine.”

“That is good. The investigation just completed and there will be dereliction of duty charges and negligence charges against those already relieved. All those concerned have already resigned from the Army; or will be terminated with a general discharge. The QASAS has been reinforced by two TDY QASAS and they will be inspecting all the ammunition in the Spec Ops ASP. That should take about one week. They will need some of your people to move ammo. Until they are done none of it will be issued and you will issue what is needed to Spec Ops from the Divisional ASP. New leadership will be arriving in two weeks from Ft Bragg. I will expect you to brief them in, and also to make sure they know what they are doing. General Brown has full confidence in your judgment. If they are not up to the job, inform me immediately.”

“Yes sir.” Will this nightmare ever end, Liz thought.

That Saturday night Liz was woken up at 1AM by her phone.
“Parker.”

“LT Parker I understand that you are now issuing for Special Operations until further notice?”

“Who is this? ”

“Cannot give you my name Maam. Delta.”

That woke Liz all the way up. “I will be at the ASP in 20 minutes. I will need confirmation from higher HQ.”

“Understood. You will have it.”

Liz chewed her lip for a minute while she got dressed. She had gotten herself rated on a Forklift; she could do it all if she had to. If this was indeed Delta Force then as few as possible needed to be there. She called the Guard Shack and alerted them. The stopped by the office for a full planograph and picked up all the keys to the ASP; technically it was a security violation but Black Ops had a quiet back door on things like that and no one was going to squawk. She took her official vehicle which she had kept and had sent Johnson back to his quarters. She drove up to the ASP and found two black vans waiting. There was no marking outside of government plates. Par for the course for Black Ops. She walked up to the lead van. Before she got to it the passenger door opened and a man in civilian clothes came out and handed her a sheet of paper. It was a ammo request for 9MM, incendiary and frag grenades and smoke grenades. Also 50 call single rds used by snipers. She quickly checked that against the bunkers and figured out where to go. She then looked at the man.
“I will need some kind of ID.”

He handed her a card. It had his picture and a bar code and chip and the name John Smith. She rolled her eyes.
“Very original. OK. Lets go.” She walked up to the guard shack. The soldier on duty was warily watching the vans then looked at her.
“Maam, those guys give me the willies.”

“No argument. But let’s give them what they want and get them out of here.”

“I heard that maam.”

Liz took her Hummer into the ASP with the vans following. She got to the bunker with the smoke and incendiary items in it and started there. She quickly filled out a 1348-1 and issued it to John Smith of DF. He signed it as such. She signed it as the issuer. They repeated that at two more magazines for the Small arms and the Frag grenades. They just wanted individual boxes, so she did not have to get a forklift.

It took just over an hour. When it was done Smith said.
“Thank You maam and you never saw us.”

“Understood. I will keep the 1348-1’s as secret documents- they will have to be used to account for inventory purposes.”

“Understood.” And they were gone. Liz shook her head and went back to her quarters to try and get some more sleep.

The next day she got a call from the IOC. The Installation XO.
“LT Parker, I understand you issued some ammunition last night to Black Ops.”

“Sir I can neither confirm nor deny. This is classified.”

There was silence for a minute. “Oh. Those guys. Never mind, Lt. Better off not talking about them at all.”

Luckily that was the only issue she had to make like that. All other Spec Ops issues were for normal training.



Two weeks later Liz had a meeting with the new Spec Ops ASP leadership. 2 Lts and 4 Sergeants. The sergeants were all veterans; and two were 89Bs.The Lts were veterans but new to Ammo.
“I will be evaluating the 89Bs for knowledge and everyone else for attitude and ability to figure it out and make the proper judgment calls. Let’s go to the ASP.”

Liz had just about finished all the necessary work on the Division Ordnance Company; its new commander was already on post; he had had some experience with another ordnance company and looked good. So now she just had to evaluate the Spec Ops crew.

One week later she called up the Installation Acting Commander.
“Ready for more good news?”

“Always, Lt Parker.”

“The Spec Ops guys will be OK. The 89Bs are sufficiently knowledgeable and have a good attitude, and the others have the right attitude and are smart enough to learn.”

“Very good, Lt Parker.”

Two months after starting it, Liz left the Ordnance Company much better then she found it. She headed back to Aviation. When she walked in the door of the Brigade HQ she stopped dead. On a table in the middle of the entrance way lay a mannequin made up with a BDU and positioned as if for burial. It was in pieces as if ripped apart and taped together. On it was a sign.

I pissed off ‘Doberman Parker’

She shook her head. Well now she knew what her call sign was going to be. Before she left they had been trying to figure hers out.

The Brigade Commander was waiting for her.
“From all sources you did a real good job cleaning up someone else’s mess. Glad to have you back.”

“Thank you sir. I just want to get back to flying.”

And she started again the very next day.

She was a little rusty and Griffith and Winston let her ease back in; Dugan had gotten a lot of flight time in those two months and it showed. It was now summer and getting hot. She had been gone from the end of March to the end of May. To make things more interesting, the word had come down that the Aviation Brigade would be deploying to Afghanistan in December. Liz was just glad she would have at least 5 months to catch up with her training. She had gotten two commendations for her TDY, but she hoped that was the end of it for a long time.

She noticed that the people at Aviation treated her differently now; some with wariness but more importantly with real respect. ‘I guess acting like a Bitch on PMS and steroids impressed them’ was her gloomy thought.

Liz had gone over what she had done and while it very much bothered her how she had done it, what she had done was spot on as far as she was concerned. Being the Bad Ass was very much against her nature; but that is all she could draw from when she had to go hard core. Looking back on it, it was as if her body had been hijacked and she had been an observer. Liz realized that that part was indeed inside her; and would always be there. She just hoped to never have to need it again.

Getting back into flying was absolutely the best medicine and therapy for Liz. Whirling her Apache through the air, firing at targets, that was real living.

The AH-64D Apache Longbow was a very high tech weapon system. The 30MM chain gun in the nose; the two pods of 2.75” rockets; the 8 Hellfire Anti-Tank missiles; and if needed 4 Stingers or two Sidewidners on the tips of the stubby wings gave the Apache a Lot of Bite. The pods for the hellfires and 2.75” can be changed out to have more of either- 4 pods of 2.75” or 16 hellfires (4 to a pod). It was designed primarily as an Anti Tank platform to be used in Europe if the Warsaw pact had ever attacked. The joke of it was that it was only fully deployed right at the very end of the Cold War, pretty much after there was any real threat of it happening. At

It’s real baptism of fire in a serious way had come during Desert Storm; and it showed itself to be extremely effective. Now like any other Helicopter it was much more vulnerable to ground fire than any fixed wing aircraft; and that was something that had been forgotten during some of the opening battles of the Iraq war. A flak trap had been set up that caused damage to 31 of 34 Apache’s used in one attack. Only 1 had been shot down and a few heavily damaged, which was something that had been lost in the fallout of that particular attack. The Apache was armored and had redundant systems to compensate for battle damage, so it could take more hits than most choppers and still fly. But you had to use common sense; if you got cocky and over confident, the Gods of War would make you pay.

As the months counted down before the deployment to Afghanistan, Liz continued to improve in all areas of flying and fighting the Apache. She also got more experience in flying as part of the platoon, company and Battalion. Though Full Battalion flights were rare. In Afghanistan the duties of Apache’s were escort and fire support. They would escort other choppers in assaults or supply missions; and suppress ground fire and give support to forces on the ground. In Afghanistan the most usual fire support from the air was from Apache’s; the terrain and other factors limited the use of fixed wings. That and the increasing importance of preventing collateral damage and injuring and killing bystanders and noncombatants. The fighting was low intensity; the Taliban was weak and much of the actual fighting was being done by foreign imports brought in by Al Queeda. Those and the warlords that were endemic to Afghanistan. The tribal loyalty by far trumped anything else. One other fact that made the choppers more favored for support was that since they came in much lower and slower they were able to take more time identifying the targets; and the weapons used were much smaller than the minimum 500 lb bombs used by the fixed wings.

So the Apache’s of the 1st Battalion, called “Expect no Mercy”, worked as much as they could to prepare for Afghanistan. They would be going to Ft Carson in October for 30 days of training in the mountains there; which would be the best place since it was the most similar to the mountainous parts of Afghanistan.

Most of their training began to focus on how to pinpoint targets and take them out; without hitting those that they would be protecting. As always the lower and slower you were the easier that was; while making you a much easier target for the enemy. The big threat was someone getting close enough to hit you with a RPG. There were few anti air missiles available to the enemy. If they could get close enough, a 12.7MM MG could down an Apache if it hit the right areas. A 23MM could do it anywhere, but they were hard to transport so only camps and such would have them.

The flight to Ft Carson was practice for the Battalion in ferry flight. All four hard points on the wings were filled with fuel tanks and the Aircraft was completely unarmed. Around 1200 or so miles was the maximum range. That varied according to height flown, speed, climate. They had calculated this fairly carefully, and the speed would be 120 Knots at 7000 feet. It would be a long flight of almost 9 hours.

The only good thing about the flight is that they were allowed to take their personal items with them as long as they could fit in the cockpits and not get in the way. Ted snarked that Liz had an unfair advantage due to her size; Lix snarked back that she, being a modern female, had more needs than a Neanderthal.

The first part of the trip was interesting, flying over Missouri and the Ozarks; then they got to Kansas and the terrain became very boring. Liz and Ted traded off every hour. Liz had let Ted make the takeoff; she would land.

They talked to each other to keep themselves awake; and to the other choppers; they were flying in a fairly loose formation about 1 KM apart. This was fairly boring; but that was not all that bad. It was good training in that it forced you to work at being alert. The weather was clear; that had been the rule before even starting out. They had a weather window of about 10 days just in case. They had gone out on day 4.

“OK, people, lets tighten it up. We will be in visual of Ft Carson in 15 Mikes. Let’s not let them think a bunch of Reserves are flying these things.”

The was the Battalion XO, Major Collins. He was senior flight officer of the 1st Battalion. The Battalion commander was just too busy most of the time to fly; reality of the modern military.

So they tightened up into boxes of 4, side by side, in 3 groups as the entire battalion tried to look STRAC. They did look good as they landed at the Air Field there.

They would be in Temp Quarters while at Carson; Liz was lucky in that she got a room all too herself. After getting something to eat she took a shower and crashed.

The very next day the crews, who had flown up the day before, got to work on the ships, readying them for the vigorous training to come. For Liz, she was not all that far from her former home. Nancy had settled in well in Columbus and was seeing someone; she tweaked Liz in that she might end up with someone faster that Liz did. Liz found that she did miss the mountains; and was not unhappy to spend some time in them.

The training started with familiarization in high altitude flying; which is critical for helicopters. The altitude maximum for the Apache was 21,000 feet; but that was under special circumstances. Realistically under normal conditions it was around 15,000. Which was something to think about as many mountains in Afghanistan were higher than that. Helicopters, due to the need of their rotors to generate lift, are very vulnerable to sudden changes of winds and conditions at higher altitudes where the air is much thinner. Much of the fighting surrounds mountains and their passes.

Liz could tell the difference immediately as they started to fly higher; most of the time they had flown around 7-8000 feet while at Campbell. Now they were flying at around 10,000+. The chopper was much more skittish, winds more greatly affected it, response to control moves were often sluggish. More power was needed to maintain level flight; and thus each mission would be shorter due to greater consumption of fuel. That was why they were also starting to practice flying with an external fuel tank in place of one or two of the rocket pods.

One thing that had been concentrated on was that for the first time the Longbow model was going to Afghanistan. Previously only A models were sent; as it was thought the Longbow was not needed. The British had believed that that idea was NOT correct. But the US commanders often preferred that the extra fuel allowed by not having the radar on the bird was better overall. The UK versions had the better engine and that was the biggest reason they chose to keep the radar on. The 1st Battalion was going with their own birds and the Longbow; while there they would make the decision on whether to take it off.

So they were going to train in Colorado both using and not using the Longbow. They would then get an idea of the differences in capabilities. What they probably would end up doing is having one company take off the radar while the other two keep it. Then after a while evaluate. Liz had looked at the numbers as regards estimates the difference in having vs not having the Radar. It came to about 10-15% more combat time. To Liz it seemed to be more important to have the capability. She had ended up talking to Griffith and Winston about that; they had both had a lot more time in the Apache and in combat.

“Afghanistan is a totally different world then Iraq. The needs are much different. In Iraq I wanted the Longbow. In Afghanistan maybe not. I have talked to some guys that flew Apache A models there. And who upgraded to Longbow. They are kind of split on it as well.” Griffith was clearly on the fence.

“More combat time, more fuel is going to be critical in that terrain. A lighter bird makes a difference. I do not know but I am kind of leaning towards not having it.” Winston was tilting to not having it.

“Reading what the Brits say, it looks to me the superior reach and radar vision the Longbow gives is very important. Especially firing the Hellfire. I kind of lean towards having it. We gain only 10-15% more time in the air without it. Is that enough to compensate for being partially blind?” Liz made her stand clear.

“Well, the Brigade is taking our birds and they have Longbow. So we can take them off if we want to. Makes sense to me; that way we can be flexible.” Said Griffith.

“Maybe have one or two companies take it off; the others keep it on. That way we have flexibility each way.” Liz pointed out.

That debate was to continue all the way too Deployment and beyond.

Liz gradually got the hang of flying in the mountains; and by the end of October they had all acclimated well. The flight back to Ft Campbell was just as uneventful as the flight out which everyone was grateful for. Upon landing the Apache’s were immediately serviced then the weeks long preparations for deployment began. Their rotors would be taken off and the entire bodies carefully packed so as to be shipped in the C-17’s. Form then until they deployed on 15 December, they would do very little flying.

The Brigade was given a week’s leave at Thanksgiving to visit family. Liz went to Georgia first since the girls had decided to stay there for thanksgiving; then she would spend the rest of the time with her mother in Columbus. She was looking forward to meeting the man her mother had been seeing for the last six months.

Liz got to Georgia on the Monday; and had a ball with the girls in their apartment. Being back with them just felt right. She also got to meet their boyfriends; which was a kick.

That first night, girls only, they sat around just relaxing.
Isabelle fixed Liz with a glare.
“OK, time for you to dish on what happened at Campbell as regards you becoming your call sign Doberman.”

The other girls goggled at that, and then began laughing.
“Doberman?” Squeaked Maria.

“Come on” came from Tess.

Liz looked at Isabelle. “How did you find that out?”

Isabelle rolled her eyes then pulled out a stack of papers.
“These are printouts from a couple of sites I found. They are forums where military people tend to talk to each other. I happened on them a while ago and go back now and then to get a feel at what is going on. One is from Spec Ops and the other is from a site called ‘Rotorheads anonymous’.”

Liz quickly read them and groaned.
“OK. These are really exaggerated. I did not have those LTs hauled out in handcuffs. I did not work them 24/7 for a month straight. Never more than 14 hours a day and only 11 straight once.”

The girls looked at her. “What did you do?” came from Maria.

“Went in with a serious attitude and made them all work my way. Leaned on them hard for the first couple of weeks then backed off as they got better. Nowhere near what it is portrayed.”

The girls nodded. Then Isabelle pulled one more sheet out. “What about this?” Liz read it then got very quiet. Maria plucked it out of her hands and she and Tess read it. They both then looked at her with big eyes.
_______________________________________________________________
“I heard those Iraqi’s she killed were begging for mercy at the end.”
_______________________________________________________________
“I talked to a guy that was there. He said she ordered them to let some wounded ones lay there and scream to intimidate the others. Then offed them herself when she wanted some peace and quiet.”

Liz took a deep breath. “I did let them scream; that scared the other ones and bought us more time. I did not kill them for peace and quiet, well not that kind. I killed them so that we could listen for any more coming. Some of them were praying to Allah.”

The girls were very quiet then Tess, Maria Isabelle hugged her tightly. Liz then started to cry.

“I think sometimes that I should somehow feel guilty for doing that; but I really believe I did what I had to do.”

They spent the rest of the night cuddling and it was not mentioned again.

It was very relaxing as well with her mother in the house she was renting; Ed was the man she was seeing and Liz liked him. Her mom seemed happy.

When she got back to Campbell they were working on getting ready to deploy. On Dec 17, 2007 they landed at Bagram Airfield.

Liz looked around. It was cold, windy and dusty. Not a very good introduction. The Aviation brigade got fairly decent quarters; wooden buildings not tents. They had heating that was fairly good and air conditioning units that they were told could keep the temps below 90 in the summer. They were also told that was a lot better than it had been up to a year ago. Liz was placed in one of the bigger buildings with all the other female officers of the 101st Aviation brigade. There were 31 of them. From WO’s to a Major. Liz noted that there were only 6 of them senior to her; the Major, 3 captains and 2 LTs with more time in grade. None of them were pilots. There were no other female pilots or copilots in the 1st Battalion; there were 11 in the other battalions. After they got themselves sorted out the major gathered them together.

“OK. First things first. No one goes anywhere alone – you go with another woman or a man you trust in your own unit. I would much rather you women stick together. This is something the brass tries to hide but there have been more than a handful of sexual assaults here at Bagram. Anyone who has been in Iraq is familiar with that situation.”

Liz sat there quietly. One of the good things about her time in Iraq was that they had been pretty safe as regards things like that. She knew that this place would be different; she had no intention of being a statistic. She carried a small knife, pepper spray and would not go anywhere without her sidearm.

“The worst things first. Now remember the culture of this country and region. Take no chances. You will not leave the airbase unless specifically authorized. Stay in the secured areas; and watch out every minute. You will be given a briefing tomorrow morning that will be nowhere near as blunt. Just nod your heads and play along with the PR bullshit.”

They then headed in a body to try out the mess hall. It turned out to be not bad. Liz made it a point to look around for women that she felt comfortable with. It turned out that a couple others had the same idea.

“OK. Who do we look to pair up with?

“Well someone like us. We are not exactly party animals are we?”

“The building is set up 4 to a room; there are 3 of us. Who should we look at?”

“Pilots for one. No grunts or desk jockies.”

“OK. While eating let us look around.”

Liz felt a little lonely. The only female pilot in the first Battalion, she had not had much to do with the rest of them.

“What about her?”

“Doberman Parker?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know. I heard she can be a real bitch.”

“Well look what she got tossed into. I would have been a bitch as well.”

“Well you are a bitch anyway.”

“So what do you think.”

“From what I heard she is ok. No problems with anyone. Her crew chief is an old time grunt and likes her. She takes care of her crew.”

“That is good. She has also been to Iraq so she knows the score that way.”

“Yeah. No one doubts she will rip you up if she has to. I heard what she did in that convoy fight.”

“You know, from a very practical point of view it would be a good idea to get an Apache pilot on our side as a friend.”

“That is true. OK let’s do it.”

Liz was looking for an empty table when three officers at another table waved to her. Curious she headed towards them. They were all warrants. A redhead, a blond and a brunette.

“Lt Parker, grab a seat.”

“Thanks guys. You drive blackhawks?”

“Yeah 5th battalion. Eagle Assault.”

“Sometimes the nicknames…”

“Yeah. We know. So wanna join us?”

“Sure. I was feeling lonely. I was real lucky my time in Iraq; I had three best buds with me.”

“That helps. We feel the same way; this is still Neanderthal Central.”

“Tell me about it. I am pretty lucky; no real problems in my battalion and in my platoon and company it’s great. Got a top crew chief as well.”

Jesse was the Redhead; Ellen was the Blonde; Vicki was the Brunette. Ellen was no classic blonde.
“Liz, you were in Iraq. What do you think of what the Major said.”

Liz got very serious; the others saw this and leaned forward.
“Towards the end of my tour in Iraq, you could start to see things happening. Since then it’s gotten worse. There are a lot of reasons but frankly why does not matter to us. We have to protect ourselves. I carry a knife in my boot and have my 9mm with me at all times; with a round in the chamber. I also have a small can of pepper spray where I can get it fast. Like the Major said, go no place alone no matter what.”

Vicki shook her head. “Round in the chamber; that is dangerous!”

Liz shook her head decisively. “The safety is on; you cannot fire it without that off. And the hammer is down. You would have to cock it and take the safety off. You can do that with one hand. Think about it: you might only have one hand free for a moment. That is why I also have the knife and the pepper spray. You can get them at the PX even here.”

The women mulled this. Ellen sighed. “I hate it but I think you are right. Did not think about the fact to chamber a round you have to use your other hand.”

Liz nodded. “I know of some women who carry a small revolver in their belt; less obvious and you do not have to worry about a safety. And you can keep the hammer over an empty cylinder. Think about it. We have to watch over ourselves; we should not count on anyone else doing it.”

Vicki looked at her. “I think having you around will make us all feel a lot safer.”

Jesse grinned. “And considering things, having an Apache driver in our corner could be important.”

Liz grinned. “Never know.” She had a feeling they would be good friends.


Isabelle squealed. “Max!”

Max Evans grinned as he hugged his younger sister. They had not seen each other in over a year.

“Izzy!”

She swatted him. “Don’t call me that.”

“I am your older brother so guess what: live with it!”

“Now children.” Came from the smiling Diane Evans, with her husband right beside her snickering. Glad to see that some things do not change.

Max had decided bothering his younger sister was fun when he had visited when Isabelle was in junior high and already starting her reign as Queen of all she Surveyed. Needless to say she had been an irresistible target. Max was almost 15 years older than Isabelle. He had been an accident when Diane and Phillip were freshmen at college. Diane had been determined that no more accidents would happen and had gotten her tubes tied. Unfortunately when the couple had graduated and wanted more children, it was found that the operation to untie them was not as simple as it should have been. Damage was done that seemed to preclude more children. So Isabelle had come along as a complete surprise.

“So, Max, just visiting?”

“Got time off for Christmas; head back after New Years.”

“Where have you been?”

“Afghanistan.”

“WHAT!!” came from all three of the other Evans.

“Been there for a couple of months. Got bored in Kuwait and took a job with another contractor in Afghanistan. Maintenance on the flight line at Bagram Airfield.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because you would have worried. It’s pretty safe there; especially where I work. Security is very heavy on the flight line.”

The three other Evans sighed but realized arguing about it would not accomplish anything. Max Evans had joined the Marines right out of High School; much to his parents displeasure. They wanted him to go to college. He didn’t. He had stayed in and finished his twenty years only a few years earlier. He had been in Marine Aviation as a ground crew tech and other areas. He had then gotten a job with a contractor that worked for the DOD overseas. Footloose and fancy free, his parents and sister had just about given up hope he would settle down.

“So Isabelle, I hear you are thinking of getting hitched? Who is the unlucky guy?”

Isabelle rolled her eyes. “Alex is very aware of how lucky he is.”

“Got the poor guy whipped good I see.”

That pretty much set the tone. The family was together and that is what mattered.

“Max, you can look up Liz if when you get back to Bagram. She just got there with the 101st Aviation Brigade. She flies an Apache.”

Max remembered Izzy writing about her friend. A pint sized Xena from the way she had been described in the media. He had heard about her from friends still in the military. There had been some serious stories about that fight.

“From issuing bullets to shooting them. The Apache is one mean machine. Sounds like it is right up her alley.”

“Liz is a good friend and if I hear from her that you have been anything other than nice I will make sure you regret it. Is THAT clear, GONZO?”

“Peace, Izzy. I doubt I will run into her but I will play nice if I do. Promise. Promise on the bodies of all of your dead Barbies.”

“VERY FUNNY.”


Liz soon found that flying in Afghanistan was much tougher than even in Colorado; the fine dust and such was not a friend to electronics. Grunt had a full time job keeping her Apache up and running. So far A Company had kept their Longbow; the other two had had it taken off in the first month. But the value of the Longbow had been shown on a couple of occasions so it seemed that A company would stay the way it was for at least the time being.

She found herself really liking her room mates; while probably they would not get as close as Maria, Tess and Isabelle they were making the time here better. Isabelle had written that her older brother was with the contractor that maintained the flight line at the Airfield. Liz had not seen him; but then she had been pretty busy getting acclimated to the climate and everything else.


Max was the supervisor of the crew that was responsible for the actual maintenance of the runways and lights; taxiways and helipads. He usually had spent most of his time at the end where the fixed wing aircraft were. Not much where the choppers worked. But with the new runway finished and lights done and such; there was not that much to do there unless something happened. There was virtually no chance of damage from enemy attack; and if there was it was almost always the aircraft and not the field. The helicopter area was being expanded as more and more choppers were used in the fighting and the movement of supplies and personnel. They had built some new hangers so that the choppers could be worked on under cover and better protected from the weather and the climate. Helicopters were more vulnerable to dust and such; and Afghanistan like most of the middle east specialized in that. So now he was also in charge of maintenance of those buildings as well. And that meant he spent more time down there.

Sergeant Gunt glared at his Apache. She was a fine machine; but this lousy place played havoc on keeping it running well. That damn dust especially got into everything and electronics and dust did not work well together; and dust and turbine engines were mortal enemies. Maintenance was up over 50% from normal; and would probably go higher. At least they had plenty of spare parts.

Max was checking out the new hangers for the choppers. They were metal and had filtration systems, but since the doors had to be open so much it was questionable just how much those systems were worth. He went in the far one and saw a crew working on an Apache. He admired that bird; had seen it in action while in Desert Storm. But it sure took a lot of work. He approached what had to be the Crew Chief; he was a senior sergeant and he looked pissed. Par for the course.

“Yo, Chief. Having fun keeping that delicate bird of flight happy?”

Gunt glared at the contractor.

“And what would you know about it?”

“Was a crew chief for Crashhawks during Desert storm while in the Corps. That was not much fun but everything I have ever heard says Apache’s are a lot more work.”

Gunt looked at him closely – was he for real or just spouting a line?

Max grinned. “Let me guess: the avionics hate the dust; the turbines are worse; and that damn chin gun is a nightmare.”

Slowly Gunt nodded. Maybe this guy was genuine.

“I never understood why they did not put that gun in a turret; it would not have weighed that much more and it would have protected it from the dust and dirt a hell of a lot better.”

“Our Huey’s were about the same; a little more sheltered but not all that much. Pretty much found the lightest machine oil we could get and just washed it down constantly. Yeah that attracted more shit but the extra oil kept it running a little better.”

Gunt looked thoughtful. He had heard some that had tried that. “Maybe.”


Max walked closer and looked at the Apache. “Maybe throwing a tarp over it whenever you are not working on it or flying it would help. Anything that keeps as little dust colleting as you can.”

“Problem with that is unless you drape it over everything including the rotors it’s not much good. And that could damage the rotors. Not to mention a huge hassle getting it on and off.”

Max looked at the roof. These hangers had been built a little stronger than he had thought. There were overhead cranes. Something was at the back of his mind. Something he had seen or heard about, What was it? Then he remembered.

“How about this: an aluminum frame that is a couple of feet bigger than the perimeter of the bird; clear plastic hanging down; attached to the crane, you lift it up to take the bird out and drop it down when it gets back. Clear lets the light in but keeps the dust out. You can put it a kind of doorway that you can walk in and out; you can do all the work on the machine except for engine replacement and the like. 90% of your regular maintenance can be done and the only time the bird is exposed to the elements is basically when its flying.”

Gunt’s eyes widened as he visualized it. He looked up at the roof of the hanger. There were a dozen or more cranes; which is about the number of choppers they could put in the hanger. IF that worked it would really help; keeping the dust out was job one. He looked at Max and held out his hand.
“Damn good idea. I will see if I can get this to someone who will try. Sergeant Gunt; but everyone calls me Grunt and I have quit fighting it.”

“Max Evans. I am in charge of airfield facility maintenance for the contractor here. I know where we can get the plastic; there are piles of it just sitting in one of the warehouses for some project that got canceled. The aluminum pipe or polls – that would be easy to get; lots of it laying around. Would not take much time if we got a bunch of guys working on it.”

“Sounds good. Now I gotta figure out how to get to someone with the clout to make the brass listen.”

“Battalion Maintenance?”

“He is a gomer that is just putting in his time.”

“Bummer. OK, how about starting with your Company commander or battalion commander?”

“Well, better talk to my pilot first.”

Max was looking at the Apache; below the pilot’s seat was a picture of a Doberman with over sized fangs.
“That is your pilot?”

“Yeah.”

Wonder what the guy is like? If that is accurate probably a real meat eater. Most pilots had more balls than brains, in his experience. All snarl and no thought.

“Come on. Let’s hit the head shed; most of the pilots are probably there right now.”

Max followed him into the next building which was somewhat of an office building; neither fish nor fowl. Grunt headed down the hall and stuck his head in one office.

“LT Parker? Got someone here who has a good idea on how we can keep the dust off of our birds.” He then went in motioning Max to follow.

There were several desks in there; right in front was one where a pretty big dude was sitting. Bet that was this ‘Doberman’, well he looks the part.

“Whats that Sarge?”

A very definitely NON Doberman voice that. He looked to the right and at a desk in the corner sat a very small and very pretty young woman. Whom he recognized from pictures Izzy had.
“YOU are Doberman?” Max could have sunk through the floor at that. The whole room burst into laughter and that made it worse. But she just rolled her eyes and smiled.
“When the Battalion comedians come up with a call sign you are stuck with it. Hi. Liz Parker.”

Max managed to collect his wits from the several countries they had been scattered to and shook her hand; it was a firm shake for such a small woman.
“Max Evans. Isabelle is my sister.”

Her eyes got HUGE. “You are Izzy’s brother Max? All she ever said that he was a pain in her butt, wandering killer of her barbies when she was a kid. Did not realize how much older you were.”

“15 years between us. Had fun one summer while I was around shooting her barbies with an airgun then hanging the survivors. Iz was NOT amused.”

“So what are you doing here? Iz said you had gotten out of the corps. Marine Aviation as I recall?”

“Yeah, crew chief on crashhawks in Desert Storm. So I have an idea what the middle east does to choppers.”

Grunt piped up. “His idea would take some work but I think it would really cut down on our maintenance time. It should protect the birds a lot better.”

“Well let’s hear it.”

Max quickly explained his idea to a room of very interested pilots. They had only been flying for a month so far and the dust and crap had shown itself to be a huge problem from day one. Grunt pointed out the advantages of it. Liz listened carefully. When they were done she sat for a moment.
“We could also get heaters or blowers in the summer that would help cool off or heat up the air inside the bubble; that would help your crews wouldn’t it?”

“A whole lot sir. With the doors open as much as they are; and the heating system having to work hard just to compensate when it really gets cold, it would make working on the small stuff a lot easier when your hands are not frozen. And from what guys who have been here before tell me, in the heat anything can make a big difference.”

Liz nodded slowly. Then stood up. “OK, let’s scare up Griffith and then we go to the Battalion commander.”

She led them out of that office and down the hall.

Captain Griffith was just as enthusiastic and they then went in search of the Battalion commander. He signed off quickly and the increasingly larger group headed for HQ and where the Brigade Maintenance office was.

The Brigade Maintenance officer thought about it after the proposal was made. Clean rooms. That is what they were looking at. If the material was available, it made so much sense. Every other unit that had operated here told the same story; the dust and crap was the biggest enemy; not the mountains and weather or the Taliban. He looked at them.
“I like it. I think the idea can be tweaked a little but it makes a lot of sense. Anything that can appreciably cut down on dust getting into the systems has to be looked at. Let’s get this written up and brainstorm it. I want all battalion maintenance personnel on this; and we need to go to the Brigade Commander.” He looked at the Battalion Commander.
“We need a formal proposal. Get on it; the Brigade Maintenance XO will work with you.”

“Yes sir.”

An hour later Max, Grunt, Parker, the Battalion Commander and several other maintenance officers were in a conference room working out the proposal. One of the maintenance officers was talking.
“We have the cranes; but moving those bubbles around will be a hassle; we need to measure the height that the cranes can lift something; I am not sure we can get full clearance at the top lift point.”

“Then we can roll up the front; that should mean we would not have to lift it as high.”

Liz had been doodling, thinking about the whole thing.
“Why do we need to keep lifting and moving the bubble?”

The rest of the room looked at her. She got up and went to the black board where the proposal had been drawn up.
She quickly drew a diagram of the hanger. Then put squares along each wall. She pointed at them.
“Make the frames go from floor to a level that clears the rotors. Not hang from the cranes. Drape the plastic over it. At the front-here- (she pointed) have it fixed so that it can be lifted or rolled up and down. We have those electric carts now to move the Apache’s or any of the choppers. We wheel them in and out of the bubbles. That way we can put them side by side along both sides of the hanger. We can service and protect more choppers that way. We just need a center isle big enough to move them in and out. We can still move the entire frame plus the plastic with the cranes if need be.”

The Brigade Maintenance XO was nodding.
“That is simpler. And you are correct, LT Parker. We can put more ships in and work on more of them that way.”

One other maintenance officer agreed. “That would also allow us to better install blowers and heaters for the bubbles if we do not have to keep moving them around.”

The XO looked around. “Any other suggestions?” There were none. “Then let’s get this written up in a form that we can present to the Brigade Commander.”

IT took several hours more, and Max took Grunt and a couple others out to show what was available, before they got it all put together. They were to present it to the Brigade Commander the next day.

The Apache Company had not had much to do at the moment; things were usually fairly quiet in the depths of December and January and February since not even the Taliban liked to do much in the winter. Liz had not yet had to fire a shot in anger; the only firing was practice and training. She was getting the hang of the different conditions in Afghanistan.

The Crew, as she called her room mates, made life bearable. They were a more lively bunch then her other friends; which in the conditions they were in made a difference. They stayed in a group as much as possible; and true to what the Major and Liz had said none of them ever went out alone at any time unescorted. There had already been a couple of incidents, not bad ones thankfully, that had reinforced the caution.

Max had gone out and quietly gathered all the material for the bubbles he could get his hands on. His years as a supply guy had taught him how to get things done without paperwork and without people higher up noticing. The plastic had been moved to the flight area; and the aluminum polls that would be used for frames had been collected and was a gathering pile as well. Looking over it he figured they had enough for about 20 or so bubbles already. Maybe more. He thought that there was enough plastic for 40 or 50.

He had emailed Izzy that he had met her friend. He asked her if she had told Izzy her call sign.

Isabelle read the latest email from her brother. She looked at Maria and Tess who were waiting on the latest word from Liz; who was trying to keep in touch but was busy as all get out.
“Did any of you know what Liz’s call sign is?”

They both shook their heads.
“Doberman.”

The room rocked with laughter.

Liz had helped right up the proposal; and had started to get to know Max Evans. He was definitely tall, dark and handsome. The fact that he was 15 years older than she was did not put her off; she found very few men her age mature enough to bother with. Being around pilots did not help; many of them had not grown up and there were signs many never would.

Max still had a fair amount of little boy about him; but anyone who had done 20 years in the Marines was a lot more mature then anyone she saw much of on a daily basis. At least anyone that could be considered eligible. Which for Liz in the current situation was a very small number. Fellow pilots were not in the mix due to maturity; dating anyone not an officer had all sorts of other problems. Of non-flying officers the pickings were kind of slim. She really had not considered civilians. Not that there were many around. But it was probably a moot point anyway; as busy as she was likely to be finding time to really date anyone would be a serious challenge; and it was time that was almost certainly better spent in just relaxing and resting.

Max meanwhile was seriously thinking about Liz Parker. Cute as a button with a great smile; what was there not to like? He also liked women who had some iron in the spine and it was clear Liz had that in spades. He had contacted one of his buds in Spec Ops on a rumor he had heard; and his bud had gotten back to him with some interesting stuff. Apparently Liz had kicked ass and taken names while rebuilding an ordnance company at Ft Campbell; and that had included a section of Spec Ops types. Which was how she got the Doberman call sign. He pondered asking Izzy for information; then decided not to. It might be more fun finding out himself.

Liz laughed as she read her email from Iz. Apparently Max had emailed her about meeting Liz. She decided that turnabout was fair play.
‘Iz. Tell me more about your brother. I get the feeling that there is a lot more than appears on the surface.’

Isabelle read Liz’s email and looked at the other two.
“Liz is asking for details on Max. I think she might just be interested.”

Maria nodded vigorously. “Whatever it takes. We got to get Liz at least looking at guys. She might as well be a nun right now.”

Tess agreed. “She needs to at least get into the game; she is almost 25 and I am willing to bet has never done more than kiss a guy. And here we are probably all going to get married as soon as we graduate.”

Isabelle looked surprised. “You really think Liz is a virgin?”

Maria sighed. “She is. She kind of let it slip one day; I don’t think she realized I heard. I am kind of sure she is a little embarrassed about it.”

Tess shook her head. “That does not surprise me. BUT look at it from her side: Podunk town and school in Wyoming, no one there and from what she said she worked just about all the time she was not in school. No serious boyfriend there. Then she gets into boot camp and AIT – not exactly a whole lot of opportunity there unless you are in for a quickie one night stand and that is so not her. Then she gets to Stewart right on 9/11. Then Iraq; and we can all agree since we were there that the chances of anything good happening in the romance area was slim at best; and Liz once again was busier than hell. Gets back from Iraq and has to work on training her replacement. Then OCS and Flight School. Why start something there when no one knows where you will be? Then Ft Campbell and all the fun she had there before deploying, not to mention being a newbie Apache pilot. It all makes sense when you bother to think about it.”

The other two slowly nodded. Maria sighed and looked at Isabelle. “Find out if he is really interested. If he is then let’s see what we can do to help get things started. But let him know that if he breaks her heart he is a man who will beg for death before we are done with him.”

Interestingly enough someone else had noticed potential sparks. Captain Griffith. Who then talked to Ed Winston.
“I think Max has eyes for Liz.”

“Well anyone that has eyes should have eyes for Liz.”

“Of course but unless my vision is fading I think there just might be some interest on her part.”

“Now that is a change. She has not given ANYONE the time of day since she arrived at Campbell.”

“Can you blame her? It’s a tough spot she is in; the only female Apache Pilot on base. She knows damn well that people are watching her waiting for her to screw up. She was pretty high profile before she ever arrived. You can see that; she is very careful about how she goes about in public. And let’s face it; would you want your kid sister dating any of the pilots here?”

Ed Winston, who DID have a younger sister, scowled. Most of the pilots were good pilots but the ones not already attached were acting like pilots have mostly acted since the days of Biplanes. Which meant no good older brother wanted any of THEM anywhere near his younger sister. Which was the way which he had started to think of Liz. He looked at Griffith.
“Not a chance in hell.”

“And who does that leave? Enlisted are out for various reasons she is all too well aware of. Non flying officers; well what is there? I mean I am not a girl but there is slim pickens there for sure. Everyone that is not already attached is probably unattached for a good reason. And she is 25 and unless I have read all the signs real wrong, has never had a serious relationship. Max Evans is older and certainly more mature than most of what she runs into every day; and being a civilian has none of the other handicaps a fellow member of the military has. You put it all together and maybe it’s not a surprise that she might be thinking that way.”

Ed Griffith still had a scowl. “He better not hurt her or he is dead meat.”

“He hurts her and there will be a line of guys and some women who will beat the living shit out of him.”

Ellen looked at Vicki and Jesse. “Is it my imagination or is Liz looking like a girl thinking of a guy now and then?”

Jesse thought about it. “Maybe. I mean we do not know her that well yet.”

Vicki slowly nodded. “It’s possible. The question would be who?”

Ellen pondered that. “From what Liz has said she is NOT interested in dating a pilot.”

The other two snorted. “No. Really.”

Ellen continued. “Non flying types?”

They considered that. “Maybe. But who?”

Jess was thinking hard. “That guy that came up with the idea of plastic bubbles for the choppers? Max Evans? He has been around a fair bit working on that.”

The other two pondered. “That to me might be a real thought” said Vicki. Ellen nodded. “Methinks we might have to observe this situation.”

The bubble idea had been approved by the brigade commander and all available personnel had been roped in to help out. It took only a week to get most of it done. Each of the hangers had a dozen on each side; 24 to a hanger for both the Apache and the Blackhawks. The Chinooks were much bigger and they could only get 12 to a hanger. But the advantages were immediately seen and felt. The heaters that had been scrounged by Max and company were hooked to the rear of each bubble and blew air in; there had been a kind of door put together at the side for personnel to slip in and out. In cold weather it made a big difference for the mechanics and techs; it was almost warm inside. That kind of work got down a lot faster. Within two weeks of operations beginning after the birds being in the bubbles, available rates started going up and failure rates started going down. Time spent on maintenance decreased noticeably, and there were signs that usage of spare parts and the need for other repairs were going down. The early word was of the good.

It was the end of February before Liz got involved in her first combat situation; well one in which she had to fire anyway.

They were escorting 3 Chinooks who were bringing in supplies for a FOB. Company A was flying cover; 1st platoon down low for close cover while 2nd platoon flew high cover. Liz and her Wingman, Jake, was on the right while Winston and his were on the left. Things looked fine until the Chinooks took off after delivery. This was usually the time someone tried to make trouble; it took time to get close enough to shoot at them and they could not just wait all day long on the hope a chopper would show up.

Jake reported movement not far from the FOB and moved in; Liz covering. Ted, as the primary gunner, was sighting down there with the 2.75’s ready. Liz had the 30MM ready and was watching closely.

Jake hosed the area with 2.75 HE and chewed it up. Liz was watching to his right and Ted to his left. Liz saw someone or something moving farther and brought the 30MM to lay on it. “something on the right, using the 30” She could see some firing and let go with the 30MM right at them. The 30MM HE exploded throwing rocks and dust into the air. She fired 10 rds and stopped and watched. Nothing moved.
“Doberman, area clear.”

“10-4, Snake. Let’s pull out – the others are clear.”

“10-4.”

And that was how she fired her first shots in anger from her Apache.

Liz did not dwell on the likelihood that she had killed someone; it was war and they were shooting at her wingman and that was the way it was.

As the weather warmed up they got busier. The bubble had really helped their operational rates climb. Liz and the others in Company A were going to keep their Longbow Radar; Liz liked it because it could keep track of lots of things at the same time.

3 weeks after the bubbles went up, Max stopped by her office.
“What you doing for dinner tonight?”

She had looked at him then smiled. “Eating with you I guess.”

Max had decided to try and get to know her better and figured to start out small. They had a good time talking – the food was OK but that really did not matter. And so a couple of times a week he found time to take her to dinner or sometimes lunch. Liz did not have a Lot of down time; never ending paperwork and she was flying almost every day. But what she did have she started to spend with him.

The Crew observed this and approved. So did most of the others that noticed. Ted Dugan made a point of talking to Max the day after they were spotted eating dinner together.
“Hurt her and they will NEVER find your body.” He made it short and to the point. As a matter of fact several people made it a point to give him warnings.


A week after firing her first shots Liz got in early one morning to find several of the pilots and copilots listening to Griffith.
“So they strapped themselves to the wings and she flew them in and they got to the soldier and stabilized him and stuck with him until the ground pounders got there.”

Liz looked at Winston. “What happened?’

“Brit Apache driver strapped four ground pounders to her wings and flew them into rescue a trapped wounded soldier.”

Liz goggled. “Wow. That must have been some ride.”

“Yeah. How much you want to bet a directive will come down- NO ONE WILL BE STRAPPED TO THE WINGS OF AN APACHE UNDER ANY CONDITIONS.”

Liz giggled. “No bet.”

That was a good thing as two days later that directive did come down from command.

One week later a major exercise involving Spec Ops brewed up.

Winston was giving the briefing.
“6 Hawks from 5 battalion will fly them in; they will hit the target and we will hover and wait to take them out. The Air Force will hit the area around the target first. Then 1st Platoon will go in as low cover while 2nd platoon will go as high cover. They THINK there may be some Taliban higher-ups there. So they want to identify who they hit. Which is why the target is not going to get plastered. Also there may be civilians there. So DO NOT just shoot if you see movement. Identify first. 4 Hawks will bring in the Strike Force; two others as Backups. Let’s get down to details.”

Liz was nervous; this was her first real serious combat mission. So far in three months she had not done a lot of shooting. But as the weather got warmer the Taliban and company started to get a lot more active. So naturally their side got more active as well.

The Crew was flying three of the 4 Hawks going in; that made it a little more personal to Liz. It was almost half an hour flying time to the target; they would have only about an hour to go before they had to return. Griffith was not happy that command had nixed replacing two pods with external tanks; but he had been able to get them to go along with one. One of the Hellfire pods were sacrificed. That would give them an extra 45 minutes there. So they could wait 1hr 45 minutes after arriving before they had to leave.

A company was flanking the Blackhawks as they headed out; this was also the first pre-dawn mission Liz had been on. Night missions were rare; mostly high priority Spec Ops operations. Fact was that it was hard to give much support at night; infrared had limited use and the night goggles were not exactly as good as daytime. Add to the fact that the warming weather made finding anyone with infrared tougher; warm rocks tended to hide people pretty well.

They took off exactly 40 minutes before dawn; it was near a pass, they would be operating at around 10,000 feet. The idea was to get there just before dawn; the Spec Ops got in and found what they needed; then there would be enough light for better support and cover fire as they were pulled out; which was usually when there were problems.

“Spectre Lead, this is Eagle Assault Lead. 5 minutes.”

“10-4.”

“Scooter (Winston) take position”

“10-4”

“Doberman right.”

“10-4”

Liz and her wingman, Jake, went right while Winston and Ken went left. Both they could all see the smoke from the Air Force doing their thing. The 4 Blackhawks went in fast and unloaded the Special Forces. They poured into the small village, moving fast. They did not appear to be taking fire. After a few minutes.

“OK People let’s take them up. So far nothing for us.”


1st Platoon then increased altitude from about 500 feet above the ground to where the rest of A company was; about 2000 feet up. Which had them at about 11,000 feet. Liz concentrated on her controls and flying as economically as she could; milking their time on target.

Liz kept watching the clock; the timer showing how much fuel time was left. They were down to less than an hour and a half. The Spec Forces had been on the ground for almost 45 minutes. You always had to figure you would use more than you thought; the safe margin for error was never less than 10% and 20% was much better. So really they needed to leave in 30 minutes.

With 10 minutes to go the word came.
“Scooter, get down there; Eagle Assault is moving in for pickup. We will come down to angels 10.” (1000 feet above ground)

“10-4.”

“OK, guys, move in as before.”

The Apache’s would go in first to draw any fire away from the more vulnerable Blackhawks.

They went down from 2000 feet to 500 in less than a minute. Swooping then hovering; once more Liz and Jake to the Right and Winston and Ken to the left. Liz spoke to Dugan.
“I will look right and you left; I will take the gun.”

“10-4”

Liz kept the Apache hovering; trying not to think about the state of their fuel supply. It was going to get a little close as it was.

She watched as all four choppers went down and landed; then two by two the Spec Ops began to appear. One Chopper took off, then two. So far no sign of fire. Third one took off. And they waited.
“Spectre’s give me bingo status” (how much flying time left)

They sounded off by platoon. Liz was a little surprised to see that she had the most left by almost 10 minutes.

One by one the Apache’s began to leave as they reached 40 minutes flying time left. Liz stayed where she was when Jake had to go; Soon only she and Winston were left. Finally they saw someone moving towards the Blackhawk; but they were going slow, clearly wounded, one carrying another while two others covered them. She saw them firing down at the village.

“Doberman, I am close to Bingo.”

“Go Scooter.”

Liz saw some figures behind the ones heading for the Blackhawk. So did Ted. “Rockets?”
Liz looked hard. “10-4 but just a couple.”

2 2.75” flechette rounds shredded the shrouded figures. Then they were at the Blackhawk and getting in.

“Doberman, this is Eagle Lead, taking fire.”

Wherever it was Liz could not see it nor could Ted so she got lower and moved in. Then they could see some firing at the Blackhawk as it began to take off. Without hesitation Liz used her 30 and hosed the immediate area; smoke and rocks flew.

“Doberman we are clear and OK; thanks for the cover.”

“10-4 Eagle Lead.”

Liz looked at her gauge; this was going to get real close. She took her time going up and heading out; every gallon might be needed.

She saw the Two extra Hawks waiting to fly with the last one. They had a better range. She moved with them, still escorting them though that really was a formality once they were this high. She was doing the math in her head; the readout had her making it back with 5 minutes to spare. It would be close.

“Doberman, what is your bingo status.”

“Eagle Lead, it’s going to be close but I think we are OK.”

Liz had stayed on her auxiliary fuel tank as long as she had dared; you could not run it dry or the engines could stall before you switched over. She had gotten pretty good at that; one of the reasons she had more range than the others. That and she had what she privately felt was the best crew and crew chief in the Brigade. She concentrated on flying as economically as possible on the way back. The fuel warning light came on with its buzzer at 15 minutes and she shut it off. 10 minutes to landing; she was beginning to relax a little.

“Doberman you are cleared for landing first.”

“10-4”

Liz headed right to the spot and just as she set it down the right engine began to sputter. And as she began to shut it down the left engine sputtered and then they both were quiet, the rotor still spinning by momentum. Liz sighed. That was a little closer than it should have been. That gage and everything else had been a little optimistic. She figured she still had at least 2 minutes left. Then Ted said the first thing since they had left the area. “Liz, it’s a good thing you are so small. I think that extra 100 lbs was the difference.” Liz had to grin. “Maybe. So no more short jokes?” “Promise-no more.”

Then she was out of the ship and her crew chief was there.
“I heard them cut out. Gonna have to check the pumps and everything now.”

“Sorry Grunt.”

“That’s ok. Comes with the territory. But maybe next time you add a little string to your rope?”

“Will try.”

Liz took a deep breath and then followed Ted towards operations for the mission debrief.

Winston looked at Liz as she came in.
“Liz, that was cutting it too close.”

“Sir, I thought I had at least two more minutes.”

That got a laugh from the whole room.

Finishing the debrief, Winston was more serious.
“That came too close. Without Liz being able to hang there as long as she did, we might have lost that last Hawk and everyone in it. I am going to make it a point to demand we have two externals for anything that takes that long from now on. Or if not we are going to have to cut things sooner than that. Several of us landed on fumes and Liz did not even have that.”

The Battalion commander later on echoed that up the latter.

The next day Liz was in her office when a Spec Forces captain stuck his head in her door.
“Lt Parker?”

Liz looked up. “Yes.”

He advanced with his hand out and Liz stood up and took it.

“LT, it was me and a couple of my men with a wounded man that was in that last chopper. No way we get out if you had not stayed to cover us. You really ran the string out and we appreciate it.”

“Captain, that is what we are here for. I promise you we will not leave you guys hanging out to dry.”

“Lt, from most I would just take those as words, but you already backed it up. You got friends in Spec Ops, I am here to tell you.”

The Crew appreciated Liz staying as well, even if none of them were flying the last chopper. Jesse spoke for them all.
“5 Battalion knows you now Liz. We know you will be there for us; Eagle Assault will remember.”

Winston and Griffith were talking that night after the mission.
“Liz really cut it close; though she did claim she thought she had two more minutes.”

“She is the kind that will take it that extra step.”


Commander, Special Forces, Afghanistan was talking to his XO.
“That mission was a little close. Command screwed up not letting them have that extra tank.”

“Yes sir. The Company and Battalion commander already made that point. I think they will give their people a little more margin next time.”

“They better. I heard the last one down had her engines die just as she touched down.”

“That is what I hear as well. She was heard to tell her CO that she thought she had 2 more minutes left.”

“Parker, right?”

“Only woman Apache driver in country now that that crazy Brit is gone.”

“Is it something about being women apache drivers that make them take it closer to the edge?”

“Not sure sir but that might be something to think on.”

“I hope our people made sure she knows we appreciate it.”

“Captain Thomas already let her know.”

“Good. It never hurts to make that known; might get us a little edge now and then when it matters.”


That story made it all the way up the ladder to General Brown, who just nodded when told.
“She showed some serious cojones at Campbell; and before; no one should be surprised.”

As spring began, the weather got hotter and so did the fighting. Starting in April, the Apache’s of A company began to get more work as did the others. The British were switching out their Apache’s and were not operational, so the 1st Battalion got more calls. While there were other attack helicopters, everyone wanted the Apache’s there since they had the real muscle. First Battalion spent more time supporting the other countries as well; before the Brits took care of them.

Liz and Max were seeing each other regularly; or as much as they could when things started to get busier for Liz. Liz found herself really liking Max and starting to get comfortable with him. Max was coming to the realization that he just might be really serious about Liz. When she admitted to him that he was really her first serious boyfriend, he was startled. Iz had told him that she suspected it; but he really had not believed it. Not only extremely cute but really nice, he found it very hard to believe that she had not done any dating before. She blushed a little when he stated that, then got quiet. Finally she took his hand as they sat as they usually did together at the mess hall.
“I had to work if I wanted anything in Wyoming. Mom made a good salary but it was expensive living there. So I was a waitress and worked most weekends. That did not really leave much time to see anyone. Then I went in the Army and it seems like I just never either had the time; or the situation was just not good for even looking so I did not even try. I mean you look around here and this is not exactly a great place to try and date; but I am. So does that tell you anything?”

He held her hand a little tighter. “Yes it does. Liz, I have been a rolling stone since I left high school. Do not have much to show for it except a fat bank account. Which in the grand scheme of things means very little. But I think I might have a reason now to finally settle down.”

Liz blushed softly. “Well, I guess we have to see how things go, don’t we?”

“I hope so.”


Liz was flying virtually every day the weather allowed it; and that was most days right now. With the other demands, multi mission days were becoming more and more common. Which was tough on the pilots and copilots, but even tougher on the crews. Liz talked to Grunt one afternoon after getting back from their second mission that day. That morning they had escorted a Canadian supply run; that afternoon a US one. They had not had to do any shooting, but it was still time in the cockpit and time on the bird.
“How is the crew doing, Grunt?”

“Hanging in there, LT. But this multi mission stuff makes it hard to get things done and get any sleep; let alone anything else.”

“Don’t think Ted and I do not appreciate it, Grunt. We both know damn well how good our bird is because you guys take care of it.”

“It’s nice to hear, LT, though the crew and I know that already.”


The next week brought an incident that was to be the talk of Apache Drivers everywhere for years to come.

Another Spec Ops mission. Another high pass, another village being searched for Taliban leadership. Different area.

Once again 4 hawks in with the Spec Ops, 2 in reserve. A Company flying support. This time though they would have two external fuel tanks. One pod of rockets and one pod of hellfires. It was not quite as far away so this time no one was really worried about fuel. This was 6 Battalion so none of the Crew were here.

Yet Liz had a funny feeling as they set out; just as they were getting close that feeling got a little stronger and she talked to Ted.
“Ted, I have a funny feeling about this mission.”

“What, Liz.”

“Not sure. But it’s getting stronger; let’s be extra watchful this time.”

Ted thought about this. Liz was not one to do say anything like this. She never had before.
“NO problem with that.”

This time 1st Platoon was high cover and 2nd was low. Which should have meant that Liz was in the safer position. But her feeling of dread began to grow.

The hawks went in; as before the Air Force had shaken everyone up with a bombing run; the idea was that most would stay under cover which would give the spec ops the edge coming in.

2nd Platoon was down low; 1st was high; everyone was keeping a close watch. Then it began to go sideways.

“Spectre, I have multiple targets NW of dustoff.”

“Take them.”

“Multiple targets SW of Dustoff.”

“We will take them; Scooter come on down and take close cover”

“10-4” “Doberman to the right; I will take left”

“10-4” Liz headed down with Jake right behind her; her feeling was screaming at her now. She came in a little hot; around 40 knots, faster than she would have usually.

Behind her Jake was watching for anything; she was going in a little fast. Then he saw it.

From a spider hole out popped a insurgent with a RPG. He was aiming for the lead Apache.
“DOBERMAN RPG beneath you to the right!”


Liz heard that and firewalled everything as she banked hard to the left, pushing everything as far as she could.

Jake was aiming the 30 but he knew he could not hit him before he fired. Just as he did the Taliban fighter let go. The RPG wooshed out and an instant later he was in pieces as several 30MM rds tore him apart.

Liz kept it hard left everything; in her mind she could almost see him; he would be firing right for the belly of the bird; she had to move it away. The RPG would be affected by the downdraft but how much. All this was running through her mind as she worked her ship. She kept turning; and rolling. And rolling.

A helicopter, if it has rigid enough rotors, can do a barrel roll. Apache’s have done that; in early testing it was done and there have been rumors of others. But they had all been flying high and over 100 knots when they did it. Not at 500 feet from the ground doing 40-50.

Ted had just enough time to think that Liz’s premonition was coming through when the chopper violently rolled left; and kept going; he could not believe it as he was on his side, then upside down; almost casually he saw the RPG round go past so close he did not know how it missed the rotors; then he was no longer on his side then upright. Liz had done a complete barrel roll.

Buzzers and warning lights lit up the cockpit like New Years Eve in Times Square. The Apache was letting Liz know it was NOT happy. She got it back upright and was still pulling away, then she eased off and slowed down, not wanting to make any sudden moves, not knowing if there was serious damage or not.

Jake had his mouth open staring up; she had done a barrel roll!

The rest of the company had finished their shooting and all were looking for Doberman. The two Blackhawks that were up several thousand feet had the best seats in the house.

“Doberman! What is your condition?”

“Scooter, not sure; got enough warning lights and buzzers to make Vegas look like nothing. Will check and let you know.”

Griffith managed to get back to work.

“OK people check the perimeter; there might be more; I want everyone over Angels 10 right now.”

Tense minutes ran by as everyone tried to look everywhere to make sure no one else was in the mood to try.

Liz had the Apache moving at about 30 knots at minimal power; checking everything. The lights went off and the buzzers got quiet. She took one more look and told Ted. “I think I just might have used up all my luck on this one. She seems OK.”
“Well I need clean underwear.”

Liz smiled at that; the adrenaline was pumping through her system and she knew she had to control herself or let Ted take the stick. Taking deep breaths she calmed herself.

“Scooter, this is Doberman. I don’t know how, but I have a green board.”


“10-4 Doberman. Maintain position with reserve hawks.”

“10-4.”

Only minutes later the Spec Ops called in for dustoff; down went 2nd platoon but this time there was no incoming. Looked like they had taken care of business. All four came down and the Spec Ops wasted no time coming out; in 10 minutes everyone was up and leaving.

“Doberman, remain on station with Hawks all the way in.”

“10-4.”

Liz knew that they wanted her near the reserve hawks just in case her Apache decided enough was enough. She was certainly not going to argue.

As it turned out, aboard one of the reserve hawks was a camera man; military not civilian media. They shot footage fairly often. Never knew when it might come in handy. By pure chance he had caught the whole thing pretty well.

Liz was needless to say very alert to any strange noises, vibrations or anything else out of the ordinary. But her Apache behaved itself all the way back to base.

Liz set her down and shut down. Then sat for a minute. Taking a deep breath she slowly got out to find the whole Company waiting. As one they all went down on their knees and Salaammed.

“WE’RE NOT WORTHY!”

Liz’s laughter peeled out and they got up and one by one gave her a hug. They all knew just how close they had come to losing one of their own.

Her crew chief came up. “LT, are they for real? Did you really do a slow speed barrel roll at 500 feet?”

Liz took a deep breath. “Yep.”

He just shook his head. “Well they are going to go over this bird with a fine toothed comb.”

The Debrief was very interesting. The Brigade Commander was present as was the Maintenance Chief and the Tech chief for Apache’s. They wanted her to go over everything five or six times. The normal debrief took an hour. This one took three.

“You just maintained even control?”

“Yes sir. I had reached a point where I felt it was more dangerous to try and right it and just kept the pattern going for a full roll. I was probably past 90 degrees at that point.”

Finally the Tech Chief went up to Liz and shook her hand.
“Lt, the experts will say what you did was impossible at that altitude and speed. It’s a given no one has tried anything like that. Your personal guardian angel has got to be exhausted.”

“Sir, I think she will probably put in for a transfer.”

The Brigade Commander came up and shook her hand as well.
“Well if she calls for advice I will tell her to cut and run.”

That night at dinner Griffith told her that they had it on film and even then they did not believe it. He told her that her bird was grounded pending a very thorough check.

The Crew was waiting for her and all puppy piled her. She did not object at all. About half an hour later the Major came in.

“Parker, there is a guy here to see you and while normally I would run him off, I think he deserves to see you after the stunt you pulled today.”

Liz went to the main door and Max grabbed her hard. She let him and rested her chin on his chest.
“Liz, I cannot believe what they said you did. That was beyond crazy. But I guess since it worked I cannot complain.”

“Max, it was crazy, but at the time it seemed the thing to do.”

He let her go and kissed her forehead. “Get some sleep, Liz.”

Then he walked out. Liz stood there for a moment with a very dopy grin on her face until the Crew grabbed her and pulled her back to their room.

The Brigade Commander and many others were in the room as the film was shown. While the camera had been about a mile away, it had a zoom feature so that it looked like they were only a few hundred feet away. They saw just at the corner the Taliban stand up and the camera start to move his way; then he fired and just after that he was shredded by the 30MM. The Helicopter could be seen starting to bank; it started to climb while banking; then it kept banking until it was clear it was becoming a roll; then it kept on rolling, steadily, until it straightened up and continued to climb up and away. The cameraman could not follow it any more as it crossed past his view. But the roll was very well caught on film. It did not look frantic though it was fast.

The Brigade Commander looked at the 1st Battalion Commander.
“The Factory reps want a complete workover of that bird. The early view is that it’s probably fine but everyone wants to look anyway.”

“Not surprising sir. Any idea how long that will take?”

“Several days probably.”

Liz took the word that her bird and her were grounded for a few days philosophically.
“I guess I can catch up on my sleep some.”

After that she wandered down to the hanger; the rest of the company was out on a mission. So was the rest of the Battalion. The only bird in the hanger was hers. It was not in its bubble but in the middle of the floor with quite a number of people gathered around it.

She went up to Grunt who was on the outskirts of the crowd.
“Quite a draw. Maybe we should sell tickets.”

“Could retire right now – and this is the beginning. Just about every chopper tech in country is going to want to come here to look at this bird.”

“Well word from up above is that Boeing is sending a team here to look it over so it will be grounded for several days. Look at it this way; your guys can catch up on their sleep.”

“That is what they are doing right now. I told them to just hang out until called. Matter of fact I think I might do the same soon.”

“Why not chief; I think I will catch up on some sleep myself.”

“Next time you want to get some time off just put in a leave slip.”

She looked over to see the Battalion Commander standing there.
“But would it have gotten approved?”

“Tell them this might happen again and I think it will.”

Liz grinned.

She wandered off again as it was clear the crowd was not going anywhere. Having a thought she went to see if Max was free. She went to the office of the contractor and low and behold he was there.

“Liz! What are you doing here?”

“My bird, and thus me, are grounded until Boeing sends a tech crew to look it over. Probably several days. You got any spare time?”

“As a matter of fact I do.”

There were not exactly any tourist areas at Bagram; so they ended up going to where the PX was and finding a seat at the little mall that had been going up gradually over time.

Liz realized that this was a chance to really talk and she looked at Max.
“Is there somewhere quiet we can go and just talk?”

He thought for a minute then nodded. They walked back to his office and he grabbed a vehicle and they headed to the main post. There was a large conference room in the main HQ and it was pretty empty; it also had some very comfortable chairs.

“This is where VIPS come to get briefed and the like. It’s not used very often.”

So they just sat there and talked for hours. Then they got something to eat and came back and talked for more. Finally they got dinner and she went back to her quarters and crashed.

He told her about his time in the corps, and after. He had been to a fair number of places both in the US and outside. She told him about her life in Worland, and then at Basic, Stewart, Iraq and Benning and Rucker.

They spent most of the next three days together just talking and walking. By the time the Battalion commander told her to be at a meeting they had really gotten to know each other very well. Max had to do a few things now and then; so Liz caught up on her laundry and sent out emails to everyone. And got some real sleep.

Liz sat in the meeting with the Boeing tech team.

“From everything we can tell, there is no damage. All systems check out and nothing looks bent or stressed.”

He then looked at her and asked her to go through the whole thing, which Liz did.

Finally they signed off the bird as being fully operational.

The Battalion commander told her that she was back on duty and on flight status the next day.

The next morning she ran into Ted.
“What have you been doing?”

“Sleeping.”

Word of Liz’s maneuver had begun to trickle out as people told people and phone calls and emails went out. It was a hell of a story so it began to attract attention. Two days after it a media rep contacted the Brigade PR officer.
“We have heard that someone barrel rolled an Apache at low speed and altitude and got away with it.”

The PR officer had been told to not deny it but to not call attention to it.
An Apache did an extreme maneuver to avoid a RPG fired at it.”

And that was all he would say.

More media heard of it; many hearing it second and third hand as Aviation forums gave it great play. No one would identify who did it; but even that began to leak out. 5 days after it, a day after Liz went back on flight status another Media person confronted the Brigade PR officer.
“We have heard it was done by the only female Apache pilot in country.”

Trapped the PR officer did the only thing he could do beyond no comment. “That is correct.”

The story probably would have garnered a little more attention if the film had not gotten out. How that happened was something that triggered a full investigation but no one was ever brought up on charges, though the film was much better secured after this.

Someone made a digital copy and found a way to get it out of country. It was thought that someone made a DVD and it got to Fox the day after one of their reporters confirmed Lt Elizabeth Parker as the pilot who found a new way to avoid an RPG.

“This is Fox News Tonight. We have some incredible footage to show you from the war on Terror in Afghanistan. One of the chief weapons used against Al Queeda and the Taliban is the AH-64D Apache Attack Helicopter. It is the most heavily armed attack helicopter in the world and it is on the front lines of the fight every day. Needless to say the Taliban hate and fear it; and try everything to shoot one down no matter what the cost. Well we have footage taken by a military cameraman who just happened to be in the right time and the right place for something extraordinary. Now we want to warn you that part of this footage is grisly. We debated editing it and decided not to. So if there are young children watching this now We advise their parents to change the channel.

The 1st Battalion of the 101st aviation Brigade, part of the 101st Airborne Division, known as the Screaming Eagles, the division that held Bastogne in WW2 at the Battle of the Bulge; the division that one unit had the incredible mini series Band of Brothers made about, is a battalion that has 24 AH-64D Longbow Apache’s, the most advanced model. Company A of that battalion was involved in an operation after suspected Taliban commanders in a small village in Afghanistan. The normal procedure is that the Special Forces come in Blackhawk helicopters and make their attack while the Apache’s hover nearby to give them cover fire. They usually are about 500 of so feet up moving slowly as long as the Blackhawks are on the ground.

Now a word here. There are some maneuvers that are rather easily done by fixed wing aircraft that are very difficult if not impossible to do by helicopters because of how they work.
You are about to see one.
The cameraman from what we have been told just happened to be on this side of the helicopter that was part of the reserves that waited to be called if needed. So it was by pure luck that this was caught on film. You see this helicopter going low to make sure there is no one getting close to the blackhawks on the ground. At just about this time some enemy soldiers were spotted and you can see those Apache’s firing on them. More showed up so that the high cover platoon was called down to help out. You see this one coming down quickly to assist; and right THERE (freezing the film) you see a Taliban fighter coming out of a hole to fire an RPG, a rocket propelled grenade normally used for fighting tanks and armored vehicles, and if he can hit an Apache it will almost certainly destroy it and kill the crew. One of the other Apache’s spot the fighter and warn the Apache being targeted (Film unfreezes) you see him firing and the other Apache hitting him with 30MM which disintegrates him and there you see the Apache banking away and beginning to roll; and it continues to roll and does a complete Barrel roll at a slow speed and low altitude and that is where you last see the Apache as the RPG just misses it and it finishes the barrel roll. And it kept right on going and made it back to base and after a careful inspection it is flying again. What is even more remarkable about this incident is that the pilot is the Only Woman pilot flying an Apache in Aghanistan, Lt Elizabeth Parker of Worland Wyoming. Lt Parker is not unknown to those who have followed the war on terror. She was the first and so far only woman to have been awarded the Distinguished Service Cross for heroism in combat in a battle in Iraq in 2003. She was also credited with the probable saving of the life of Congressman…
And so on it went. Giving an update basically on Liz’s life in the military.

In an apartment in Athens Georgia, where three juniors attending the University of Georgia are sitting watch Fox news as they do most nights, looks are exchanged between three very shocked young women.

Nancy Parker also happened to be watching Fox News and sat stunned and shocked. Ed was right next to her as he was most nights and he held her as she shook and cried. Finally settling down. “God, how close can she get and still get away?”

The Congressman was not watching that night but one of his staff was and let him know. He looked at the footage and shook his head.

Liz found out the next day because as with most US Military bases they show Fox News if they can. Several of the pilots told her then she got a call from Battallion.
“Lt Parker the newsies want to talk to you.”

“Well I do not want to talk to them.”

“Understandable. At this time that is still your prerogative. The general may think differently. They really poured it on about you last night.”

Liz hung up and shook her head and looked at Winston.
“Get me up in the air, boss, that is safer than being here hunted by newsies.”

Now a bunch of reporters had the Brigade PR officer under heavy fire wanting to talk to Lt Parker.
“She does not wish to talk to reporters.”

Frustrated they then went to something a couple of them had found out and spread around.
“Sometime before this we heard that there was a mission that lasted longer than it was supposed to and she was the last helicopter to land and she ran out of fuel. Is this true?”

“Yes. The mission ran over long and she was the last one to land. Just as she set down her engines quit from running out of fuel.”

“Why was she the last to land?”

“She was the last to leave the combat scene.”

“Why was she the last to leave?”

The PR officer prayed for strength.

“If you take ten different helicopters all of the same model and give them all the same fuel, you would have all of them run out of fuel at different times. Some are slightly more efficient then others; some pilots fly more economically then others. On that mission She was the last to leave the scene because she was able to stretch her fuel supply slightly better then any of the other pilots. She stayed to give cover fire to the last helicopter evacuating wounded Special Forces personnel.”
He stopped and realized he had just given the monster more meat.

“That is all for today” and got out of there.

The Brigade commander gave him a look. “Yes sir I know I should have told them less.”

“Well I think we no longer have any choice. Despite her very justifiable feelings on the matter, she will have to meet with them.”

“Yes sir. BCU’s or class A’s?”

“Normally I would say BDU’s but in this case since the monster wants to be fed badly have her come in Class A. I am saying this because I know that is what Washington will tell us to do.”

Hours later he would have that confirmed.

“I have to do WHAT?”

“Liz, I hate it too but this comes from the Pentagon.”

“But in Class A? In the warzone its allways BDU! I did not bring one.”

He blinked at that. “Well that is good. Maybe we can delay it; or let you do it in BDU. Will have to tell brigade.”

“She did not bring one?”

“Well sir it’s a war zone.”

“Well that is good. We can tell the Pentagon it will have to be good ol BDU.”

“Yes sir.” He hung up and looked at his PR officer.
“You are to call Germany and have one flown in special tonight for a Press conference tomorrow evening that will be shown live in the US; it will be midnight here and shown at 3PM Friday in the east.”

Liz stared at him then shook her head and then gave her measurements. She walked out of the Brigade commanders HQ and got in a vehicle waiting to take her back to the flight line.

Winston looked at her; then again. “What is it this time?

Liz looked at him in disgust. “I just gave my measurements to a Major General in Germany. He will make sure a class A uniform gets here tomorrow in time for a midnight press conference where I will get an Air Medal and then talk to the reporters. Its timed for 3PM Friday afternoon in the US.”

He blinked and shook his head. “Man, this is out of control.”

Liz went back to her quarters and lay on her bed staring up at the roof. The Crew came in and saw her laying like that. They looked at each other then sat down next to her.
Jess said softly. “Liz?” No reaction. “Liz?” a little louder. Finally she turned her head and looked at them.
“What is it?”

“Liz something is wrong. Tell us?”

So she did.

They agreed she had a right to be dazed and confused.

The PR officer went over how to go about it.
“Just think your answers through. Speak steadily and carefully. Right now they love you but they can turn on you in a heartbeat and tear you too pieces. Remember what they did to Jessica Lynch and she had done nothing wrong.”

She had a couple of hours before the uniform was due to arrive and she went and hid in Max’s office.
Max was worried about Liz; all this attention had made her go into a shell.
“Liz, none of this is your fault. You just happen to go through some very extraordinary events.”

“So do lots of soldiers and they never get one percent of what I am getting.”

Winston and Griffith were talking to Ted Dugan.
“Liz is getting very depressed over all of this. She hates it and thinks people will begin to believe she is hunting for glory. Becoming a showoff.”

“No one here believes that. Every bit of recognition she is getting she has earned.”

“I am just worried about her.”

The two officers looked at each other. Winston looked thoughtful.
“Word is that we will probably be grounded tomorrow, right?”

“Weather pretty much confirmed that an hour ago. That is why we were not flying today. Winds are too high and that storm will be in tonight. That plane bringing her uniform will get in just before it hits. Probably will not be flying Saturday either.”

“OK. This is the first real break we have been able to count on since we got here 5 months ago. It’s time for a party; everyone can blow off some steam. Let’s talk to Battalion and make sure that everyone is at the party that we will throw right after the press conference. We can let it go till dawn and then let everyone sleep it off tomorrow. We can them make sure that Liz knows that everyone that matters knows the score. We can get some of the Spec Ops guys here as well. Maybe that guy that was wounded. He can thank her personally. That should get her back to normal; if anything could.”

So out went the word. Having a blowout is a good idea in most times; being able to have one when in the middle of a combat zone is even more desirable and important. Ted went looking for Max and found him and let him know.

Winston called up the Spec Ops guys and told them a party was coming and to bring their guys; and especially the ones that Liz had saved that day. He told them that she was depressed and afraid people would thing she was a glory hound and all stuck up. They told him they would be there.

The Brigade Commander thought it was a great idea for all of the people who had been working their tales off for months.

The uniform had been delivered and Liz had it on while the Crew worked on her and primped her. When they were done they all looked at her and agreed she looked fine.
Jesse spoke for all of them.
“Liz you are a hero. Just as much as anyone is. You have been there and done that. You have as much a right as anyone to get honored. And lets be honest girl; you have a fair amount of fruit salad there.”

Liz looked at the clock and saw that it was 2300. They all trooped out the door and Liz found a Staff car waiting for her.

Liz had emailed her mother and let her know about the press conference; so Nancy was at home watching.

Maria, Isabelle and Tess cut class. They were watching.

At least one congressman in DC was watching.

So were a lot of other people.

Liz stood ready in a room next to the main press room. The PR officer was right beside her as was Winston and Griffith and Dugan. Liz looked around her and smiled slightly, Winston noticed.
“Liz if you got a joke handy now is the time to use it.”

She smiled and relaxed a little.
“Well look at me; the only one in Class A except the General and a couple others. And look how short I am. And how tall just about everyone else is.”

The General walked up to the Mics in Class A.
“We have a small ceremony first then there will be a Press Briefing with Lt Parker.”

Liz marched in with the others and stood at attention. The general moved forward. The PR officer read Liz’s commendation

On March 23, 2008, while flying cover for a Special Operations mission, Lt Elizabeth Parker by flying extremely efficiently was able to stay on station after all other AH-64 Apaches had to leave to return to base and give critical covering fire as wounded Spec Ops soldiers were evacuated. She returned to base only to have her aircraft run out of fuel exactly as she landed

LT Elizabeth Parker. Liz stepped forward and saluted the General. He returned the salute then picked up the Medal and pinned it on her. Then they exchanged Salutes and she returned to the line.

The General then moved to the Microphones.
“I am certain that Lt Parker would rather be flying in combat than at this press conference but here she is.”

Liz moved to the mic and the PR Officer moved to her side. He picked out a reporter.
“Lt Parker, when you made that very difficult maneuver, why did you do it?”

“I got warning from my wingman that a RPG was about to be fired at me from below and to the right. I banked left, throttle wide open, and rammed the collective to the left. I kept rolling, looking to my right and I saw the RPG just miss the rotors as it went by. By that time I was past 90 degrees and made the judgment call that correcting was more dangerous than continuing the roll. I completed one revolution and straightened out continuing to climb while I tried to sort out all the warning lights and buzzers going off. What I did was not in the book and the aircraft let me know about that in no uncertain terms. By the grace of God my aircraft was not damaged and it got us back to base in one piece.”

“Lt Parker, the operation during which you just received the air medal; what did you do that allowed you to use less fuel?”

“I have what I think is the best crew Chief, Sergeant Gunt, and the best ground crew in the Brigade. He keeps my ship at peak efficiency, which is pretty hard in the dust and sand here in Afghanistan. That is a large part of the reason. Many pilots relax flying in, so as to save their energy for the fight and flight back. When at the edge of range as we were on that mission, I try and concentrate and fly as carefully as possible so as to use as little fuel as possible. And of course it helps to be as small and light as I am. That less 100 or so pounds does count as well.”

“LT Parker, what is it like being the only female in an Apache Battalion?”

“Well, there never is a line outside the Ladies Room.”

That got a big laugh.

And around the nation.

She took a few more questions about what it was like in Afghanistan and so on and then the PR Officer ended it and Liz marched out with the rest of them.

Nancy smiled through her tears. “That’s my girl.”

Three tearful girls in Georgia hugged each other.

A congressman in DC nodded and smiled.

Max was waiting for her back at her barracks and proceeded to kiss her senseless while her roomies cheered. Liz slowly let go and then blushed rosily. She smiled at him.
“I do not want to wear this thing any longer. I will change back to normal and then let’s hit the party.”

The party finally ended at 0600 and everyone staggered back to their rooms. Liz was slightly gassed as was everyone else. So they all staggered to their rooms and passed out. Sometime in the afternoon every aspirin available was consumed and people slowly dragged themselves out to groan and recover.

Liz got something to eat then went back to the barracks and took a long shower. Then headed back to her room. The Crew was all laying down as well. They just lay there and finally they all drifted off. She woke up at 0500 the next morning and listened; the wind was still whistling which meant no flight ops. She went back to sleep before waking up for good at 0700.

Saturday was a miserable day as Friday had been and outside of eating everyone stayed in their barracks. That gave Liz and the others time to talk.

Jesse started it off; she talked about her home in Illinois not far from Chicago. And how she was looking to get out and get into commercial aviation. Ellen talked about growing up in Seattle, and how she was also looking at aviation as a career after the military. Vicki was thinking of going to college when she got out; she was happy to get out of Detroit and did not want to go back. When they asked Liz for her plans, she smiled.
“Stay in as long as they let me fly; then go into some kind of flying job afterwards. Not sure where I want to go for that; probably out west somewhere; but NOT Wyoming. I liked Colorado and the mountains; so probably somewhere around there if possible.”

Ellen looked thoughtful. “Liz, not to remind you of what you don’t like, but here is the deal. You can just about write your own ticket in the US Army. You are probably going to end up as one of the most decorated Officers to come out of this war. You will be able to stay in as long as you want. Now as regards flying you will make Captain next year without a doubt and get a company. In another year Major and get a battalion or at least be an XO. They will push you to take college courses and the like; because you look great and as that press conference showed you can do them as well as you fly. You will make Lt Colonel at least and probably full Bird. And that is if you do nothing more spectacular from now on. Which judging from your past will not happen. That is what I see. Do any of you disagree?”

They all shook their heads. Liz stared at her blankly.
“Wow.”

The Brigade Commander was talking to his PR officer.
“The PR weanies in DC loved her. Universally.”

“She did a whole lot better than I thought she would. She is a natural; they do not scare her.”

“Considering her career, that is not a surprise. She has a real future if she wants it.”

“Frankly sir, it’s up to the Army to make sure she wants to stay in. We need more like her and never have enough.”

“That is a fact.”


“Sir you wanted to see me?”

“I want you to talk to some people. I want to know what Elizabeth Parker would need to do to make it as a career in the US Army. I know moving beyond Major is tough for any officer without a degree. Frankly She shows that is moronic. This idea that people MUST have a degree to get anywhere high up on the ladder is truly stupid. She damn well ought to make full colonel at least before she retires. She is just coming up on 25 and will be a captain early next year before she is 26. With her record and accomplishments and smarts and poise, there is no excuse for pushing her out just because she did not waste four years somewhere.”

They were flying again by Sunday as the storm blew out and cleared out the weather; it was clear and very nice.

Over the next week there was not much going on; the Taliban seemed to have gone into hiding for a while and very little action was seen.

“Sir I have that report you asked for about what Lt Parker should do.”

“Well?”

“The military personnel men I spoke to were embarrassed; they admitted as long as they were not named that she would almost certainly be stopped at Major. The Degree part is so ingrained that nothing she could do would get her past Major if she does not take off several years and get a degree. Promotion boards would not pass her; the regulations have procedures for exceptions but they are ignored. She would not be the first case of someone with extraordinary ability thrown out for not being able to show a diploma.”

The congressman slowly nodded; his face carefully blank. His aide knew that he put on that face when he was VERY angry.

“I want those examples in detail. Then the new secretary of Defense and I will be having a talk.”

Liz stretched and headed for the shower. For some reason she felt especially good that morning. She did not know why. They were due for another escort mission that day; the Brits had gotten their Apache’s operational again so the load had lightened on 1st Battalion. So they were holding steady at no more than one mission a day. In the month since the award ceremony things had gone pretty well. One of the Blackhawks from 6 Battalion had been shot down; but no one was killed. One was seriously wounded but would recover. It was now the middle of May and it was getting hot. They were almost at the half way of their 15 month deployment; if there were no holdups they would be back in the US by March of 2009. Scooter had just gotten his promotion and was now Captain. Griffith would soon get his oak leafs and step up to take the Battalion XO position. He would try to stay in the cockpit but that was a losing battle against the job and paperwork. Winston had told Liz she would be taking over 1st Platoon while he took over 2nd Platoon and the company. He told her that he figured she would get her railroad tracks before they left Afghanistan. Liz liked that in one stance because promotion was always nice; but on the other hand it took her one step closer to not flying all the time.

Then she thought of Max and a goofy smile came over her face as she padded back to her room. Jesse looked up as she came into the room and laughed.
“Liz has Max face.”

The others laughed and Liz blushed.

Liz had quietly admitted that she had fallen hard for Max. And he seemed to feel the same way. He was looking to make sure that he was done in Afghanistan the same time she was. He made it plain that he would be going back to the US and looking for a job around Ft Campbell. Liz smiled again when she thought of the quiet but firm way he had made that clear; and how he had kissed her after it. She had written a letter to Isabelle.
Isabelle read the letter to the others. When she was done they all were quiet for a while. Maria finally stirred.
“At last Liz is living.”

Isabelle nodded. “I told my parents that Max is looking at coming back to the US once and for all and that it’s because of Liz. They have wanted him to settle down for so long.”


The lull in combat did not last all that long. Starting in June the Taliban began to push and cause trouble. They had been quietly building up strength in other parts of the country and the coalition began to realize that. It had been decided to bring in more US troops and air power. More Special Operations forces as well. More search and destroy missions began to happen.

The Apache’s began to start seeing multiple missions a day again after a few months lapse. Which put more of a strain on Pilots, copilots, the choppers and the ground crews. The only good news was that they were all experienced so that made a difference.

Liz really did not like the summers here. VERY hot and dusty and dry and generally miserable. They got some swamp coolers for the hangers; when it was really dry they did help. The only problem was they also introduced humidity to the aircraft. But overall most agreed it was worth it. When it got over 110 degrees inside the hangers, the coolers would get it down to 85 in the bubbles, which made it bearable.

Spec Ops started a campaign in an area about half an hours flight from Bagram and they began to need a lot of backup from the Apache’s. The Taliban had started trying to use civilians as human shields; and that made things a lot harder. It began to reach a point where the Apache’s had to use the 30MM more and more as it was the only weapon precise enough to take out the Taliban without killing the civilians they were hiding behind. Problem with that is that to be sure the Apache’s had to get closer. Rules were to stay at no lower than 500 feet; and usually at least 7-800 so that RPG’s would not have the range to hit them. That was the only weapon that really was a threat to an apache. The Blackhawks were of course much more vulnerable and the Taliban began to try and take them down instead of the much tougher and more dangerous Apache’s.

Liz of course did not know of a private meeting with the new SECDEF that the Congressman had arranged.

He had given the SECDEF the report that had made him so very angry.

The SECDEF quickly read it and sighed.
“This is not exactly a surprise.”

“Each of those officers chased out by this stupidity is worth 100 of those ticket punchers out of any college.”

“I will not argue, Congressman. But that is the system.”

“Then change it. I do not see where it generates better officers than the old system did. On the surface they might look more polished; but underneath where it counts they are mostly empty suits. This system has been built to prevent any mavericks, any real gifted different types from ever getting anywhere. Cookie cutter sounds nice and neat but this current generation of Generals and Admirals come from that system and frankly mr Secretary they do not look like much and have not impressed anyone. And the more junior generals are even worse. I would say maybe one out of ten show real ability. The rest of them are nothing special at all. This country deserves better; the soldiers and sailors and airmen and Marines deserve better.”

“What would you have me do?”

“Well here is what I propose.”

General Davison was going to retire soon; he had been passed over for his third star and was getting out. Or he was.

‘The Secretary of Defense proposed and congress has approved, a new type of promotion board. It will go over those rejected for promotions and see if there are those that have ability that the system refuses to reward. This will be at the Lt Colonel level and above. Its recommendations will go straight to the Secretary of Defense, bypassing all services. These officers will most likely be mavericks or those that have not played the political game that is required so much to get promoted in the modern military. It has been remarked many times over the last decade or so that a soldier like Patton, a sailor like Bill Halsey or Hyman Rickover, a Marine Like Chesty Puller, a pilot like Billy Mitchell would never reach high rank in the modern military. This new promotion board would try and see to it that those exceptions are not lost. And also would try and force the rest of the military establishment to recognize the need for the occasional maverick and trouble maker’

General William Davison, current commander of the 101st Airborne; had been due to retire after getting passed over. But the new promotion board; called by some the maverick board, recommended his promotion and it was approved by the President and Congress. It will remain to be seen if this starts to change the status quo.

It was now July and the summer was at its peak. Temperatures were regularly over 110 degrees. Liz and the others were very grateful that the barracks had A/C. But that also meant that operations on the ground required more water and supplies; thus resupply flights to the FOB’s increased. The Taliban was trying to make life as difficult as possible at the FOBs; while the alliance was trying to search out and destroy the Taliban strongholds. It was a back and forth struggle.

It was usual procedure to have one platoon cover a resupply flight. 4 Apaches escorting 4 Chinooks. This day it was 1st platoon and 4 Chinooks from 7th Battalion bringing in a weeks supply for the FOB. 2 Apache’s on either side as they came in. Since they landed in the middle of the FOB, it was not necessary for the Apache’s to come in close for cover. They would stay at about 1000 feet keeping an eye on things. The biggest threat would be an infiltrating Taliban suicide fighter, hiding with an RPG to fire at one of the Helicopters as it landed.

Liz and Jake were on one side with Ed and Ken on the other. Things looked calm until the Chinooks were just about to land. Right then 4 figures appeared and had RPGs. But they were spotted as soon as they moved and were targeted by the 30MM from each of the Apache’s. Only one got off a shot before being shredded and he missed, luckily.

“Let’s get down to Angels 5 people; that is probably all there is but let’s make sure.”

But nothing more happened. Some troopers from the FOB went over to see if they could salvage any of the RPG’s but that was it. In half an hour the Chinooks were unloaded and taking off. The flight back was uneventful. Liz had not done anything but fly; Ted had fired the 30MM. Procedures had been set up for who shot at what between the aircraft; which was good. If there had been any hesitation one or more of the Taliban suicide squad would have been able to fire accurately at the Chinooks.

Liz was very surprised when the Brigade Commander had her talk to some of the women of the brigade who were currently enlisted but wanted to become pilots. The Battalion commander reminded her that that was the route she had taken.

“OK. You are here because you have an interest in becoming a pilot. To start with, is that a chopper pilot or fixed wing or you do not care just be a pilot. Raise your hands for Chopper only. Now Fixed wing only. Now either. OK. To start with you also need to consider if you want to do 20 years. If that is the case I have advice for you: DO NOT BECOME AN OFFICER.”

Liz rather enjoyed the looks that got.
“Surprised you? Well that is a realization that I only came to in the last year. If I had to do it over again I would have gone to WOCS instead of OCS. Once you are an officer you are at the mercy of the education prejudice. Which means whether you want to or not; you have to go to college. Studying subjects that have very little if anything to do with being an officer. If you do not you will be gone at the level of Major. No Higher. And that means at 12-15 years you are out. No Pension. Now if you become WO’s, you can get in your 20 and better yet you can stay doing what you want to do most. I would love it if I could spend my next 13 years in the military flying Apache’s, or flying in general. BUT I will not. I am probably going to get my Captain’s Bars in the next few months; then I have about 3 years before I can probably become a Major. Another three years and unless I am in college going for a decree I will be out. No matter what I have accomplished in the Military. So there I will be, 31, former Major with a fair amount of experience having to do something else. The best I could do as regards flying is stay with the National Guard. But I will need a job outside that. Lots of crap to deal with. So that is why I am telling you all that no matter what you want, if you want to do 20 active do not become an officer unless you want to go to college. If you do then no problem. But the pressure will stay on even if you get your degree; then they will expect you to get a masters in SOMETHING. DOES NOT MATTER WHAT IT IS. Now for me I will probably in the end break down and do the dance they want me to do despite having no wish at all to go to college; despite the FACT that it will have little if any bearing on what I do in the military. I could get a degree in Art History and then a Master there and they would be happy because I punched the ticket that they demand be punched. So think about it, Ladies. Think and plan.”

The Major from her barracks had sat in quietly; later on she was talking to the brigade commander and told her what Liz had said.

He sighed. “Not like she was not being brutally honest with them.”

The Major was quiet. “My major is in Literary History.”

He looked at her. “oh.”

“I am sure she did not know that but her point remains valid. I will probably get promoted to Lt Colonel and if I get my masters there I probably have a good shot at full bird. Mainly because I have that degree. I have nowhere near the record Lt Parker has and will not get near it either. Yet she will hit the ceiling at Major. And I will not.”

“So if you were being brutally honest you would have said the same thing.”

“Yes sir. But I would not have been that honest with them because I would have worried about it getting out and being used against me later on.”

The Brigade commander thought about that for a while then requested Lt Parker see him.

Liz sat before him, willing to bet it was about what she had said at that meeting.

He looked at the young woman in front of him; very composed, yet so young.

“Your statements to those young women; they were not exactly complimentary to the US Army.”

“Was not meant to be sir. I was told to advise them. I gave them the most valid advice I had. If you do not want that sir then do not send me again. My message will not change. Can you honestly disagree with what I said?”

“No, I cannot. It is not something I think about; many of us do not think about it. It is just the way the system is.” He sighed.
“Well, not to change the subject but your promotion to Captain will be through in the next month. Major Winston will be going to 1st Battalion XO, and Captain Griffith will take over as 1st Company CO. You will take over as commander of 1st Platoon. Which I am sure is no surprise to you.”

“No sir.”

Liz went back to the barracks thinking about things. Her promotion to Captain was nice, but in the grand scheme of things just meant she was closer to having to decide whether to bow down to the system or not. There were no subjects in college that she really wanted to study. She had thought about it; but the interest was just not there. She felt that unless she really was interested it was a waste of time and she really hated wasting time. Especially four years of it.

The next week was the busiest yet for the Apache drivers. For 6 straight days they did two missions a day. The Taliban was more and more trying to go after the supply and personnel choppers – as they did most of the work.

On the fourth day, the first mission in the morning the 101st Aviation brigade had their first KIA. Liz was guiltily lucky that it was B Company that was escorting a strike mission and they were the ones that lost a Blackhawk to a 12.7MM MG in a hidden position that fired right into the cockpit as it landed; it rolled over and burned. The Pilot was killed and the copilot badly burned. The four passengers were injured but not badly. The Apache’s hosed the entire area and the backup Blackhawk pulled the injured out. They were unable to get the pilot out of the Hawk and in a very tough decision the Mission commander ordered the burning Blackhawk destroyed with multiple Hellfire hits. They would not try and recover the body due to where the target was. And they wanted to make sure that the Taliban was unable to get any trophies.

Liz and the rest of the Brigade were very depressed that night. She and A company had had what were comparatively easy milk runs that day; had not had to fire much at all. They quietly sat around that night. Liz was with the Crew; the WO officer killed had been in the 5th Battalion. Liz knew him; but had not known him well.

After a while Liz called Max and he came over and got her and they walked around; it was hot but by 2100 it was not too bad. And they talked.
“I feel guilty because I am glad I was not on that mission.”

Max hugged her. “That is just being human, Liz. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

Liz found that being with Max just seemed so right. They fit.

The Brigade had little chance to mourn their loss as missions kept up for three more days before weather was bad enough –windy enough- to ground them. They all needed the rest by then.

But the next day the winds died down and they were out again. Command had put into motion a sustained campaign of going after the Taliban wherever they were; deeper and deeper into their controlled or semi controlled areas.

Company A had gotten the reputation of never having lost anyone while they were the escort. Liz and the others fought very hard to keep that up. Her Promotion had officially come through and Liz was now a Captain. And 1st Platoon commander. Which was unusual as most platoons had a Lt as commander and some even had a WO. Blackhawks tended to have more officers then the other lighter helicopters. She was also company XO now and that meant more paperwork. With the multiple missions per day and now more paperwork it was all Liz could do to keep up. Being very organized helped but it was still a more than full load.

The end of August found the first hints of cooler weather which they all welcomed; but it was also when both command and the Taliban stepped up efforts to do in the other. They still had 6 months left on this tour; which seemed forever.

More and more they were doing pre-dawn raids; without any air strikes first. Trying to swoop in and catch the Taliban by surprise. The alliance had the advantage there since there were lots of places that could be attacked and none of them knew when the Birds of Prey would come calling.

The Special Forces commander looked over the mission plan.
“This could be a fairly hot one. If one of the top dogs is there, they will have a fair number of bodyguards. Might even have some serious firepower for them. Beyond the RPGs or 12.7’s. Might have one of those 23MM there.”

“Possibly sir. He is the third in command overall and no doubt the area commander.”

“Well guys the good news is that this is the only mission for today. The bad news is that it could be a hairy one. Command thinks that the Taliban area commander is at this site; and he is third in command of the entire Taliban. So getting him would be a real fist in the nose of the Taliban. But that also means that he is probably going to have some fairly serious protection. As is the pattern anymore, the Taliban are making sure that there are plenty of civilians around. Many not by choice. They are going to villages and taking the entire village hostage then moving them to where their operations are. Hoping that we will kill a bunch of them while they hide behind them; making us look like the bad guys in the international press. So here is how we are going to skin this cat:
Company A will be the close escort; the whole company down on the deck. Company B will be the high escort and reserve. The Hawks will come in with the Apache’s right beside them; move in as fast as possible and hit them hard. Rules of engagement are as follows; 30MM only unless you site a bunker or dug in position that the 30 cannot get to. Then it is Hellfire. You are not to use your 2.75’s; which is pretty much standard anymore but I got the Battalion commander to buy off with not even bringing them and having two external fuel tanks instead. So we will have more time. It’s going to take about 60 minutes to get there; it’s very close to the Pakistan border. Which is another reason for no 2.75’s; one could go wild and go across the border and cause all sorts of hurt feelings over there. Furthermore we are going low this time; 300 feet. And maybe lower depending on the situation. So you will have to keep a special eye out for RPGs. Spec Ops are taking 8 Hawks in; they are going to flood that village. 4 hawks will be in reserve. Get ready people.”

Liz did her preflight check; it was routine and she had never found a problem but that was something you never skimped on. It takes about half an hour if you do it right and Liz always did. Ted was right beside her; 4 eyes looking beats two anytime. Liz reflected that she put in her latest Eval of Ted that he was fully qualified and ready to move up to Pilot. He would probably step in if they lost anyone. She checked the auxiliary fuel tanks as the last think on her check list. It was procedure that you took off on internal and then switched to external afterwards, but Liz chose to take off on External. She liked to save the internal fuel to the last. In some ground trials she had found that just before the auxiliary fuel tank was dry you would have a fluctuation in fuel pressure; and so she made it a point to take every gallon out she could. It was a little more risky but she felt that extra time could be vital; after all it had already happened once to her. That would give her maybe twenty or more gallons out of each tank more than most pilots took. That meant from both tanks a total of an extra twenty minutes flight time. You never knew how much you would need. The mission profile showed that you had to figure at least 70 minutes(counting safety margin) there and back; and at least 1 hour at the site. Even the Blackhawks would have an auxiliary tank this time. They used more fuel due to the high altitude anyway. And any full power moves sucked it right down.

They took off at 0500, pitch dark. They were due to hit the site at 0600, just before dawn. One good thing about where the target was that since it was up a little bit they could fly low and come up; which would mask their sound some. Anything to keep the enemy from finding out that they were about to be visited as long as possible.

“Target in 5 mikes.”

“10-4”

Everyone tightened up; Liz was happy to see the fuel fluctuation just at that minute; she could switch over to the other tank now. That unbalanced the apache but not enough to really matter. This meant that she could use up the other auxiliary and over one third of her internal and still make it back to the base. They moved in; it was just starting to get light enough to see. Perfect timing.

1st Platoon was out to the right; Liz in lead; 2nd platoon was to the left, Scooter in lead. Spread out and watching as the hawks bored in. Then they were down and the Spec ops were pouring out and heading into the village. She could see the first Taliban coming out of houses and shooting and getting taken out by the ground pounders. So far so good- total surprise. They hovered right at 300 feet, watching everything for anything. The minutes went by and the Spec Ops got further into the village. Company B then moved over the village at 1000 feet and watched for anyone trying to run or have a vehicle. Not likely there but you never knew. Most likely possibility was someone with a horse trying to get away. The Blackhawks had taken off and were hovering at 1500; waiting to be called for extraction. There were over 80 Spec Ops going into that village; quite a force. They almost certainly outnumbered anyone there.

Inside the village they were indeed getting it done. But it was not as fast as hoped. Clearly these were some of the best fighters the Taliban had left; they used cover well and kept up a high rate of fire. But 40MM HE usually got the job done. House by house the Spec Ops troopers gradually decimated the insurgents. So far only a few civilians had been encountered and as far as they could tell they hadn’t shot any.

Unknown to the Spec Ops commander a small group had been in a underground hole; like a large spider hole. 8 Taliban were waiting until the Helicopters came back. There were a group of spec ops holding the landing site but they could not see what could not be seen.

The Taliban commander realized that he would not escape and decided to try and take some of the infidels with him. With explosive charges strapped to them he and his remaining body guards charged. The remainder of his men firing all their weapons as cover.

This sort of tactic was not new; and the Spec Ops ground commander had been expecting it. But being ready for it did not always mean that you could beat it. This time they did not have the needed extra luck.

All four were able to detonate; two did not do anything but shred themselves and some of the remaining fighters. But two of them got close enough and a building collapsed from the blast; and several Spec Ops soldiers were hit.

Everyone could see the explosions. So they waited.

“Eagle Assault; need dustoff for WIA.”

“10-4”

2 blackhawks came in; Company A came even lower. Almost by instinct.

Several soldiers were being carried by others; there looked to be 6 wounded. They were quickly loaded in one of the Blackhawks and it took off; headed for base. The other went with it as escort.

Meanwhile soldiers were desperately digging in the collapsed house; three were trapped in the rubble.

“Bearcats spread out- eyes open- check area”

Just in case someone else was looking to join in the fight Company B was going to make sure they found them firsts.

Minutes went by.

Finally they got the trapped men out; luckily not badly injured.


“Spectre Lead- reaching Bingo Status. Will RTB. You have status.”

“10-4 Bearcat Lead”

Liz checked her fuel status; Bearcat had been using more fuel moving around; they could stay for another 20 minutes.

“Doberman, get down on the deck. They should be pulling out soon.”

“10-4 Scooter.”

Liz lead her four Apache’s down to 100 feet; minimum distance before they kicked up too much dust to see.

“Eagle Assault- full dustoff.”

The remaining 6 Blackhawks headed down. Liz called in.
“OK people, look sharp.”

The Spec ops started pouring out of the village. Heading towards the Blackhawks that were landing.

It was then that the hidden Taliban came out of their holes and started firing at the Blackhawks. They thankfully did not have anything other than their AK 47’s but at close range they could do damage.

The Spec Ops reacted immediately and quickly cut them down but not before two blackhawks started to smoke.

“Eagle Assault; what is your status this is Spectre Lead.”

“Spectre lead two hawks down.”

Liz groaned. There was no way they could get all the spec ops out on 4 choppers. She was rather guiltily glad that none of her roomies were down there. She checked her fuel status. Then called her wingmen for fuel status. She had the most left; she had 35 minutes before going back. The others had 20.

Scooter was furiously thinking. They had about a dozen spec ops left that could not be taken by the Blackhawks. It would take at least an hour to get any from Bagram. Unless there was someone in the air they were screwed. He made the call to base.

“Spectre Lead to Control- we need extra transport ASAP.”

“10-4 Spectre will advise.”

Liz thought hard. If she landed and stayed at idle, she could stay for an hour before she had to leave.

The remaining Spec Ops deployed around the landing site; the Blackhawks were all gone except for the two smoking. Their crews had gone with the rest. Liz had no doubt that each of the Blackhawks leaving was over loaded. The good thing was that they had used up more than half their fuel so they were that much lighter.

“Spectre Lead we have a big boy 50 minutes out.”

A chinook was coming but it would be 50 minutes.

“Scooter, this is Doberman. If I land and stay at idle I can be here that long.”

Scooter thought hard. Was it better to leave Liz here or take off; maybe any local Taliban would figure it was all over. But leaving the Spec Ops there with no cover went against the grain. Liz had things figured; he had no doubt she could stay that long.

“OK Doberman go down now and then we will leave.”

“10-4.”

Liz carefully and economically as possible let down at the site.


The Spec ops soldiers stared as the Apache sat down and went to idle. The leader came up to Liz’s apache. She opened the hatch.
“Guys want some company?”

“Never sad to see a pretty face.” He gave her the OK sign and moved back and she closed the hatch. And they waited. Ted sighed.
“Liz, sometimes I wish you were not so good at milking the juice.”

“Just one of my many talents.”

Liz had hoped that there might be some Air Force strike planes nearby but there was nothing available either. So they waited.

The Spec Ops guys waited; glad to have the company but very alert to the fact that they were really hanging out there.

“Doberman, this is Eagle Lift. You guys need a ride?”

Liz grinned in relief. “Some green beanies have their thumbs out.”

“I guess we can lower our standards just this once. 5 Mikes.”

“10-4.” She added power and the Apache went into the air. She hovered at 300 feet, she scanned to the right and Ted to the left.”

Just as the Chinook set down Liz saw movement to her side. Several fighters had AK-47’s.
“Targets RIGHT using the 30!”

Liz hosed them just as another showed up with a RPG and he got shredded as well.

“Doberman Eagle Lift airborne!”

Liz waited an extra minute- then told TED.
“Hellfires on the blackhawks Ted.”

“10-4”

He used two on each one and they blew up spectacularly.



Liz then headed out. She checked the gauges. It would be close but she doubted as close as last time. She stayed in position just behind the Big Chinook.

She made it in with just about 10 minutes fuel left.

The rest of the Company waited tensely until Liz had landed then greeted her.

“Late again Parker. Do you have an excuse slip from your parents?”

“I am not late- you left early!”

The pilot of the Chinook was at the debrief.
“That RPG was aimed right at the cockpit when Doberman toasted him.”

He looked at Liz. “We had counting spec ops 30 people on board.” He rose and shook her hand. “You need a favor, Cap, anytime anywhere name it.”

“Watch out I might call that marker in!”

The Crew was waiting for her in the Barracks.
Jesse was the first to hug her. “You did not know but I was flying for Jones. I was on the first Chopper that got hosed.”

Liz gasped then slumped. “One of the reasons I kept my cool was I thought none of you guys’s birds had been hit.”


The Spec Ops ground commander finished his report.
“Bottom line was sir we were dead lucky. No one dead and no one critically wounded. If Parker had not stayed behind it would have been really bad.”

Special Operations Commander Afghanistan nodded.
“We are adding up a big tab there. This is the second time she has put herself on the line and covered us.”

“Sir it’s time we showed our appreciation.”

“yes it is.”

“I think a commendation is due for this last mission for Captain Parker.”

“Yes sir. Another Air Medal?”

“Start the paperwork.”

Two days later another assault on a suspected stronghold; but this one was not as big.

“OK Company A will be escorting a strike by Spec Ops on another base and 6th Battalion will have 4 Hawks. This is a small one in comparison but farther= we will be 90 minutes flying to target.”

This mission was to have problems due to the last one; the wounded from that mission were spread over separate teams and that meant some mixing and matching were needed for the team hitting this target. That was bad because they had not worked together; and they had one total newby. That can cause problems and this time it did.

Liz was a little worried; this mission had been textbook. Not one single problem. Nothing at all. Absolutely on time getting there; and it looked like there was very little resistance.

The newby had been told to stay with his sergeant; and he had. Until he noticed something in one room of a house they were clearing. His sergeant was talking on the radio to the commander and did not notice him going into the room. He left the building and headed towards the dustoff point. He looked back quickly but did not realize the trooper right behind him was not the newby.

Inside the room the newby saw something about a wall that did not look right and he kicked at it; and a man with a knife came at him. He swung and hit him upside the head but he slipped on some cloth on the floor and hit his head as he fell. Stunned. Both of them lay there; one fully unconscious and one almost there.

They headed back to the base; the Sergeant looked around and realized the newby was not with him. He checked again and then called to the other chopper. They were more than halfway to base; and the backup choppers had moved ahead and were even close to base. It became clear they had left a man behind.

Liz was leading her platoon; flying economic as usual; the rest of the company had started to do that more following her example. She was 30 minutes out when the word came.

“Spectre Lead, we left one behind.”

Scooter groaned. “EVERYONE report fuel status.”

As usual Liz had the most; but she would not make it back to the base if she went.
“Scooter I can get there if he is around; but I cannot make it back. Can they bring some out and I get there?”

Some quick talking found that they could get it done. They could get B company, who had been back at base, to come out to cover.

The Newby finally got out of the house, a little dazed but alert enough to manage to dodge the few people still around. He got past the edge of the village and keeping cover as much as possible headed towards base. His small radio only had a 5 mile range.

Liz had headed back and flew as cheap as possible; Ted grumbling about this getting real old.

“Ted, tune your com band to the hand held frequency. I hope he is transmitting.”

“Yeah. Not like we can go down and go house to house.”

Back at Bagram a scramble was going on. In record time a fuel bladder was filled and loaded on a Blackhawk with a hand pump. B company was scrambling a platoon. Spec Ops command was already warming up his tonsils to chew out whoever had messed up by not counting noses going out.

Liz took a deep breath; she prayed he was alive and able to communicate.

The Newby had managed to get away from the village; he was going down a mountain path that gave him cover; it did not appear to be used much. He knew they would come back for him but he needed to be free for that to do him any good. He kept plugging along. His head was killing him but he did not dare take anything for it.

With only about 50 minutes left of fuel Liz was getting near the site.
“Ted try his frequency.”

“Doberman to lost pup. Do you read?”

Newby had stopped to rest; then he heard it.

“Doberman to lost pup. Do you read.”

He fumbled then looked around and spoke as soft as he could.
“Lost pup to Doberman. NW of target.”

Liz smiled. “Can you hear us?”

He listened; he could.

“10-4 about 185 degrees from my location.”

Liz looked at the map then at the ground. Not a great area to land but she would get close.

Newby looked and saw what looked like a fairly flat spot.
“Doberman, am throwing smoke.”

Ted was looking hard. “There. Lost pup I see red smoke.”

“I am right there – flat spot next to it.”

“2 mikes.”

Liz set it down; it seemed solid and level enough. She immediately opened the hatch and saw the figure stumbling toward the chopper.

Newby was just able to get to the chopper and the hatch opened and a VERY small figure got out.

“Get in, grab this handle, get up, come on.”
Liz almost had to load him like a sack of potatoes; the blood on his head indicated head injury and the way he was barely moving was not good. She got him into the seat and climbed in.
“GO ted!”

He took off before she got the hatch secured. She was sitting on his la. She managed to turn and start checking him out, it was not easy. Between the two of them it was a tight fit.

Ted was looking at the gauges; 40 minutes left give or take. They would at best make it half way.

“Doberman to control. Have him. Has head injury; barely conscious. 40 minutes Bingo.”

“Control to Doberman; relief in route.”

“Doberman this is Phoenix Flight. We have juice and gourd cracker. What is your position?”

“Coordinates as follows…40 minutes Bingo.”

Ellen was in the cockpit of the lead Hawk; Vicki was in the rear. She quickly looked at the map; figuring the most economical speed of the Apache which Liz had told her some time ago.
“Doberman we will go to coordinates- you should make that.”

Liz did some figuring.
“10-4 Phoenix.”

“Ted keep it at 115. Heading 145. Keep us at this altitude and start dropping 5 mikes out. We should make it.”

Newby was almost unconscious and Liz kept trying to keep him awake.

30 minutes later Ted sighted the 2 Blackhawks landing; then the B company Apache’s which quickly took station.
“Doberman, this is Bearcat Lead. Nothing in sight and we will be waiting.”

“10-4 Bearcat Lead.”


Ted brought it down smoothly; the fuel warning buzzer in his ear. He got it as close as he could to the Blackhawk who already had the fuel hose out. He got close enough for the fuel hose to reach. He sat it down and opened his hatch pointing at the auxiliary tank; the Tech nodded and pulled off the cap and put the nozzle in and signaled to the Blackhawk to the figure in the hatch who began to crank the pump. He waited until he saw the fuel pressure drop and switched from internal main to Right auxiliary 1. The engines kept going so he felt a great feeling of relief go through him.

Meanwhile Liz had gotten her hatch open as the medics got to them; She quickly hopped out and they started to manhandle the trooper out of the cockpit. One of the medics pulled her aside.
“How bad?”

“He was not fully conscious for the last 15 minutes- it was all I could do to keep him that way. He was stumbling when he got to the chopper.”

She then stepped back and went to the other side where they were pumping fuel into the auxiliary tank. She headed to the Blackhawk with the fuel and went to the cockpit. Ellen gave her the high sign. She watched for a minute as the tech was working the hand pump; he was relieved and another ground away. Liz added up the numbers. That pump maxed out at around 10 gallons a minute. She needed 45 minutes to get in with a decent safety margin. She went up to the tech that was resting.
“100 gallons” she shouted into his ear. He nodded. She went back- they had gotten the newby to the Blackhawk and were strapping him down. She waved to Vicki in the cockpit and headed back to her bird.

Liz got back into the cockpit and closed the hatch.
“They will put in 100 gallons.”

“That should be plenty.”

Finally the tech pulled out the nozzle and put on the cap and waved to the Cockpit and Ted waved back.
“Ted, take us home.”

“Right Liz.”


Liz was at dinner that night when Griffith came by the table she was sharing with the Crew.
“He is going to be allright. Bad concussion but that is all.”

The Special Operations Commander, Afghanistan, looked at his XO.
“This is getting ridiculous. Why don’t we just sign over the keys to the building to her?”

His XO grinned. “The debt is getting pretty massive sir.”

“Are we ready?”

“Yes sir. Weather thinks it will be too windy to fly tomorrow and probably the next day. Good time for a party.”

Meanwhile Newby had woken up in the hospital and was getting lots of grief from the others.
“You mean to tell me you sat there with the cutest pilot around on your lap and you don’t remember anything? That is pretty sad man.”

Not long after Liz came by.

Newby was still a little woozy.
“Wow. They got cute doctors here.”

His other visitors busted a gut laughing.

The Team Captain took the opportunity.
“Captain Parker, it seems stupid to keep thanking you for pulling our grits out of the fire, so we would like to thank you properly. Forecast says that it will be unflyable tomorrow and probably the next day. So could you come by the compound tonight at 1900?”

“I will check with my CO and I will bring my boyfriend just in case some of you snake eaters get fresh?”

“Would we do that?”

Sounds of a raspberry being blown.

Liz and Max arrived at the Spec Ops compound and were greeted by the Captain. He took them into one of the larger buildings; it was dark and then the lights came on.

Across the middle of the room:

“Thanks from Special Operations Command”
And the banner had over a hundred signatures on it.

The night got fairly rowdy but Liz could not remember the last time she had laughed as much.

Someone had done a drawing that was actually very well done.
It showed about 40 Special Ops soldiers being carried by very tiny person; they were all piled up. Under it was the caption:
“White Woman’s Burden”

Liz met every trooper that that had been involved in the three operations that she had had such a special part in. Finally towards the end while a good number of the troopers were fully gassed, the door opened and the General Commanding Special Operations in Afghanistan came in. The room quieted a little then a lot when he held up his hand.
“This will only take a minute then you can all go back to getting drunk.” That got a very good cheer.
He walked up to where Liz and Max were sitting and Liz got up. Suddenly she noticed it was fully quiet.

“Captain Parker. This is a tradition that goes back to the Founding of Special Forces. Whenever someone not in puts himself or herself way out there and really makes a difference, we do this.”
He then pulled out a brand new Green Beret and placed it on Liz’s head. And the troopers raised the roof.

As September turned into October the pace of missions began to finally wind down. The weather worse and both sides tended to stay in more. Liz looked at the calendar and realized that they had only 5 months of missions to go before they began to pack up and go home. Liz sighed. It was still a long ways off. She was tired a lot anymore. So was everyone else. It had been grueling over the last 4 months.

Max looked over the paper work; he was going to give the company 90 days’ notice that he was leaving. He planned to be out officially on 1 March, 2009. Liz would be leaving country right about then. Working the contacts he had made over the last few years he had found a job with another contractor that serviced the Larger fixed wing aircraft at Campbell. It was not that great of a job but it allowed him to work on Campbell. So he could be with Liz full time. He had been talking to a friend of his and a certain package was on its way. He intended giving Liz a real great Christmas gift. He no longer had any doubts at all.

There had been a ceremony held two weeks after the party.
Ted Dugan had been stunned to get an Air Medal. Liz had pushed for that. Then Liz was really stunned when she was awarded the Legion of Merit for continued above and beyond duty actions supporting the Army Special Forces.

The Congressman looked at his aide. “As I recall, the Legion of Merit also has promotion value as well?”

“Yes sir.”

October left and November came and it began to get cold. The good news was that combat also began to really cool off. Multi mission days were virtually gone; and days began to string together that they had no missions at all. Which was really nice; they began to reach the point where they could do other things then just sleep every chance they got.

But just as it seemed things were getting quiet for the winter, the Taliban decided to try and get some strikes in. Well aware of the media’s seeming ability to forget past crimes for some if the proper situations are generated, they worked to try and make it appear as if they were misunderstood. They began to spend money and buy necessities for villagers that had been impoverished by the war. Carefully cultivating notoriously liberal European media types that had despised the US for many years, they began to try and show that much of their reputation was due to the US and its puppets. Now anyone with any intelligence would look at the past record of the Taliban; and even the immediate one, and laugh at the thought that anyone would buy it. But some did.

The PR Officer shook his head. “Sir, Washington should ignore them.”
The Brigade Commander nodded. “They should and normally they would. But remember we have a new administration coming in. And as usual some are already trying to curry favor. It’s clear that the incoming administration will be trying to cultivate the more liberal Europeans. And that is how you get this.”

“THIS” was a directive to take some of the liberal European media into the villages of Afghanistan and question them about who were the real bad guys. Which meant that the Afghan military and security forces would be responsible, by the request of the media themselves. They wanted no US or British involvement. Frankly the Aviation Brigade Commander would be happy to oblige. But a further directive was that the Aviation Brigade would be available in support. The Message clearly was that they needed to be nearby to help. The Commander wondered why they thought they would need help? The Taliban would be putting on a show and they certainly would be on their best behavior.

“So there it is. The crazy far left wacko journalists will be going to several known Taliban villages to interview the people. The Afghans will be responsible for their security. NONE of the coalition are supposed to be there; no NATO involvement at all. BUT we are expected to be Nearby to help if needed; naturally unseen otherwise. It’s a goat rope people. If you needed to be told.”

It was tentatively scheduled for the first week in January, just under two months off.

“Well maybe this whole thing will fall apart in a huge mess of hypocrisy.”
Was Jesse’s rather blunt summation.

Meanwhile Max had been making preparations. He had enlisted the Crew and Ted and even her Company CO. All to maneuver Liz to where he wanted her at the right moment.

So on Dec 24, 2008, Liz was expecting to see Max for Christmas Eve. And then on Christmas Day. She was not expecting to be called to operations at 1800, especially as the weather was not good at all. She went into the office and found the lights on but no one there. Wondering what was going on she ran into Ted.

“It’s a standard Cluster, Liz. You need to see Grunt in the hanger.”

He then quickly moved off leaving Liz even more in the Dark. She left ops and grabbed a ride over to the hanger. She did not wonder why someone just happened by. The lights were on and she headed over to where her Apache was. Inside the bubble she saw that the Co Pilot Hatch was open. So she went around to the entranceway and headed to the front of the bird. She saw someone sitting in the copilot seat and figured it was grunt.
“What is going on…“ when she realized it was not Grunt. It was Max. Who then reached over and picked her right up and sat down with her on his lap and proceeded to kiss the daylights out of her. When she recovered she managed to say “Max what is..” and he kissed her again. Then he took her face in both hands and said.
“Liz Parker I love you.”

Liz glowed. “I love you Max Evans.”

“Good. Then will you wear this?”

And produced a gorgeous diamond engagement ring. Liz gasped as he placed it on her finger.

“Will you marry me Liz?”


No one outside of that cockpit would have otherwise heard her soft “Oh, Yes.”

That was the best Christmas Liz had ever had.

Two weeks later despite everyone’s hopes, the Press Junket to the two villages was begun.

4 Blackhawks from 6 Battalion and Liz’s platoon were going to trade off with an equal group composed of the other platoon of A company and 4 more Blackhawks from 6 Battalion. They had established a fueling point about 30 miles from the two villages, watched over by Special Ops. They started out at 0900 and would stay on duty until the Press left.

Liz was not happy with the situation; they would be running the helicopters all day. Continually refueling them. But theirs was not to reason why.

Meanwhile in the First Village the situation was tense because the Afghan security forces were from a different tribe than the village was and they had been enemies off and on over the years. The Press was not happy as instead of smiling faces they got sullen looks. The Taliban reps were assured of safe conduct by the Afghan Government but they acted very jumpy and very unfriendly. So after only an hour they headed to the next village, driving down the road.

Liz had switched off with 2nd Platoon and were getting refueled for the first time when they heard that the Press had already moved to the second village. Hopeful looks came as they started to maybe think that this would not be an all day event.

The Second village was an hour away by road; but there was a small landslide that took time to clear by hand. It took three hours and it was 1400 when they got to village number two. Once again the Press was not happy; and being a typically spoiled media mess proceeded to proclaim to one and all that this whole trip was a joke. Which of course just about everyone on both sides had known all the time. However the village people did not appreciate it. The Taliban had brought only a few people in; they had been smart enough to make sure that it would not look like they had no one but fighters there. So the villagers began to berate the Press as typical foreigners too dumb to get out of the sun on a summer day. The Taliban reps began to realize that this was turning into a PR fiasco for them.

Aliya was far too typical – her parents had been killed in fighting a year ago. Most of her relatives were dead; all of her close ones anyway. She was only 9 years old and thin. She was staying with an elderly aunt who was dying. She did not know where she was going to go next. She was very quiet but very sweet; so she poked her head out when the strangers came by. Now one thing all mediots know is that a young girl just about always makes the best photo op. So in no time at all they were all taking their pictures with her. Even the dumb ones noticed that none of the villagers seemed happy about it. One of them asked an interpreter and was told she was not from this village and barely a member of this tribe. Realizing this was making things worse the Taliban rep had the girl removed; his final stupid mistake. Even the dumb media figured out this was not good for the little girl and wanted to know what was going to happen to her. The Taliban rep told them it was none of their business and the press junket was over. That went over real well naturally. The Afghan Security people then told the media it was time to go. They grumbled but left, clearly not happy but none of them seemed to really care about the girl.

However there were some there who were worried; the interpreters. They had a very bad feeling what was going to happen to her. One of them quietly went to the communications vehicle and called the Coalition rep.

Aliya had been dragged to the far end of the village and locked in a shed. One of the interpreters had carefully followed and noted where.

Liz was just refueled and ready to get into the air again; it was almost 5 and only half an hour or so of light was left. Then they got the word about the little girl. The question was what could they do. Liz had a very bad feeling. She went over to where the lead Blackhawk was sitting and talked to the pilot, who was with some of the Special Ops people.
“Wanna go visit that village?” The pilot grinned and nodded. Several of the Special Ops climbed into the ship. Liz went to her bird and started it up. She told Ted
“We are going to that village and get that little girl.”

“I heard that.”

Everyone had left the village; the interpreters had no choice. But by chance the road leaving was up hill and about half a mile up the road was a place where one could observe the village. The interpreters stopped and got out binoculars. One of the camera crews noticed and stopped as well. They asked what was going on and were told about the little girl. It was still light; so they got their cameras with the zoom lens and set it up. And started filming.

Halfway to the village the Blackhawk called Liz. They had an engine warning light and rising temps so they would have to go back.
Liz chewed her lip but decided to carry on. All the other Birds were returning to base.

“Doberman to Whistle, take the others back. We will hang for a while.”

“10-4”

Liz then tried to contact the interpreters and were able to get them.

“This is Spectre lead what is the situation?”

Just as Liz got to within 5 miles the interpreters saw the Taliban rep head to that she and pull the little girl out and hit her, knocking her down on the ground. The Film crew cursed but kept filming.

“Hurry! They are hitting the little girl!”

Liz growled deep in her throat, sounding amazingly like her call sign. Ted felt the hair on the back of his neck go up.

The Taliban rep then kicked the girl and pulled out a pistol and fired one shot at her and hit her; the camera clearly saw that.

Liz was now within half a mile and everyone heard the sound of the Apache. Liz had her gunsight focused where the interpreters had told her it was happening. She saw the flash and gritted her teeth. Rage as she had never felt before coursed through her veins; she was no longer Liz Parker; she was now both Nemesis and Artemis. She put the cross hairs on that piece of shit and fired one round.

The interpreters were crying as the little girl was shot and then the Taliban rep seemed to explode into pieces. The others were knocked down. Then they got up and ran.

There was just enough room. Liz put the Apache down right in the middle of the road; she had her hatch open and was out like a shot and got to the little girl. She had been hit in the stomach and was badly bleeding. Liz picked her up and ran to her chopper.

Those on the hill were entranced as the Deadly Apache landed; and a small figure got out and ran to the little girl; picked her up and carried her and put her in; climbed in and the ship took off.

“Ted she is bleeding badly. Redline her.”

“Gotcha Liz.”

Liz held the little girl and kept pressure on the wound and prayed.

Aliya had been cold; now it was noisy and it seemed warmer, she felt someone holding her and pressed her face into the warm person that she could feel.

An Apache can do about 180 mph full out; Ted got her to 185.

Liz made the call. “Doberman to Control; I need clearance to Medcenter; I have a badly wounded little girl about 8 years old.”

“Control to Doberman, you are cleared; med team waiting.”

Liz had never prayed harder in her life. The 20 minutes it took to get there seemed forever. Ted brought her in at a swoop and dropped her right outside the doors where a crew and gurney came right out ignoring the rotor blast. Liz got out as she handed the girl and told Ted to take her in.


Meanwhile the camera crew had called for a flight out so that they could get the film to the network. Ellen had not yet landed on another late afternoon op and volunteered to go and found a place not far away from them; Bearcats provided cover; they lifted off just as dusk fell.

Liz sat there in the waiting room right outside the emergency room where they were working on the little girl. An interpreter was beside her from the hospital trying to get information. Liz knew little; she had gradually picked up a smattering of the language (she was to find that she knew more than she realized) but she could not tell him much. About an hour later more people showed up escorted by Spec Ops. The officer she knew pretty well came up to her.
“Captain Parker, this is the interpreter that called you.”

Liz stood up and shook his hand.
“Please, how is she?”

“I do not know she has been in there for an hour.”

The film was going up the ladder already but the camera crew had gotten to the hospital and came in the door. They saw Liz talking to the interpreter; she had blood on the front of her uniform so they knew who she was – and they remembered that the pilot of that Apache had been very small. So they put two and two together and started to film her. Just then the doors to the emergency room opened and a doctor in scrubs came out. Liz went right to him.

“How is she?”

“It was close but she will live.”

Liz closed her eyes and bowed her head then opened them and looked at the doctor.
“Thank you so much.” He noticed the blood.

“Is that from the little girl?”

“Yes.”

“She lost a lot but you keeping pressure on it probably made the difference. She should be waking up in a few hours.”

“I am Captain Parker of Company A of the 1st Battalion 101st aviation. Please contact me when she starts to wake up, no matter when. I want to be there for her.”

“I will do that Captain.”

She turned to the interpreter who was smiling.
“You did a wonderful thing.”

“I only called you. You are the one that saved her life and punished that animal that shot her.”

Liz blushed. “Thank you. Now I have to go back to operations and start filling out paperwork.”

She nodded to the Spec Ops guys who formed a ring around her and escorted her out of the building, giving her a ride to Ops.

Once arriving in the office Griffith was waiting for her.
“We are going to the Generals office right now. This is going to be big.”

“Big?”

“Liz, they caught it all on film. That POS hitting the girl, then kicking her, then shooting her, then you blowing him away, landing your Apache right in the middle of town, taking that girl and sweeping her away. This is going to be HUMONGOUS.”

“oh.”


The General was on the phone with DC.
“No Sir I have not yet seen the film. It should be hitting the network in the next hour or so. I agree; the Taliban just crapped on itself in front of the whole world. We need to play this to the limit. Captain Parker will be here shortly and I can get it all. Yes sir I will let you know as soon as I know.”

He looked at his XO. “We have to handle this just right. No embellishment; just let that film speak for itself. Parker is very good at speaking to people; I think we need to let her just be herself.”

“CENTCOM will be waiting?”

“The President is waiting; CENTCOM is just the messenger boy.”

Not long after Liz came in the door. Both officers were shocked at the amount of blood on the front of her uniform.

“Captain, that is all that Little Girls?”

“Yes sir.”

“And she will make it?”

“That is what the doctor said about 15 minutes ago.”

“Good. Now tell me everything.”

An hour later Liz headed back to the barracks – the General had told her to NOT have that uniform cleaned. They might need it to make a point. She managed to get into the Room where the Crew was waiting; as was Max.

Max grabbed her and laid a huge one on her that she returned with interest. They all exclaimed at the blood. She then quickly changed after the girls shooed Max out and the Major dragged him down the hall and told him to come back the next morning.

Liz took a quick shower and changed to a fresh uniform.
The Crew wanted details.

“Guys, you know what happened.”

There was a shout from outside the door.

“Liz, it’s going to come on CNN in moment!”

Liz managed to get her pants and shirt on and was barefoot when they gathered in the main room to watch.

“I want to warn our viewers that what you are about to see is unedited and live from Afghanistan. This footage was taken just hours ago. An example of the brutality of the Taliban towards women; and in this case a young 8 year old girl. Once again we warn you this will be graphic.

In a rare moment of insight, the late night anchor let the film speak for itself in all its awful clarity.

Millions saw the bearded, robed figure grab the little girl and strike her, knocking her down. He then kicked her. Shouting things at her while she cowered. Then he pulled out a pistol, shouting more at her. Then he pointed at her and fired. You could actually see the impact of the bullet on the small body. A second later as he appeared to be ready to fire again his body exploded. The pictured jerked as the camera showed in the still fairly bright sky an Apache swoop down and land; a small figure get out and grab the little girl and put her in, then close the hatch and the Helicopter took off and headed off very fast.

We have not yet confirmed the identity of the Pilot, but there is only one female pilot flying apache’s in Afghanistan. That would be Captain Elizabeth Parker of Company A, 1st Battalion, 101st Aviation brigade. And while the camera was not close enough for positive Identification, it seems a safe bet that that small figure was indeed the rather petite Captain Parker. Small in size perhaps; but huge in heart.”

Liz blinked. It was so bizarre seeing yourself that way. Suddenly she was aware of silence. She looked away from the TV and saw everyone in the building standing at attention and saluting her. Slowly she returned the salute. And then one by one they came up and hugged her and shook her hand. It was a silent and very moving experience for Liz Parker.

They went back to their room and Liz sat on her bunk. The others sat down and were very quiet. Finally Jesse looked at her.
“Liz, if you have not figured it out by now, your life is about to change again. This will go all over the world. In a weeks time there might not be more than 10% of the population of the world who will either not have seen it; or not have heard about it. You are going to be as famous as or more famous than any pop star or movie star. From this point on that will be how people remember Elizabeth Parker. Till the day you die and they will show this again. Liz, you are immortal.”

Liz stared at her; her face slowly whitening. “Oh. My. God.”

The General turned away from the TV screen and looked at the gathered officers.

“I cannot imagine any scene needing fewer words to describe.”

No one said a word.

The Command phone buzzed and he picked it up. He straightened up. “Yes Mr. President I have seen it. I guess everyone who is up has seen it. Sir I can have her on the phone in half an hour. Oh. Of Course. I will see to it. Yes sir she is a fine officer; I can truthfully say I have none better. Yes sir. Goodnight sir.”

He set the phone down and looked at his officers. “He wants her to get a good nights sleep. Will have her call him tomorrow morning our time.”

Nancy Parker slowly picked up the phone. “Yes?”
“Nancy its Ted. You need to turn on CNN as soon as you can. Liz just did something big again. Only this time its HUGE.”


Three seniors at the University of Georgia were watching TV. Just like many others around the world. They looked at each other and found for once they had nothing to say.

A couple of commentators on Fox News:
“It is remarkable how that young woman has managed to do so many extraordinary things in such a short time.”

“It’s been an argument historians have had for a long time. Do great times make great people or do great people make great times. With Elizabeth Parker, I tend to lean to the latter.”

A congressman had been awakened and had turned on his tv. He sat there and felt for one of the few times in his life, awed.

Front page news. Total network coverage. It was everywhere.

In Bagram Airbase in a barracks a young woman slept. Her door was guarded by her friends; the barracks itself had a guard of Special Forces. Had anyone tried to force admittance their wrath would have been terrible.

In a hanger a ground crew was carefully cleaning the cockpit of an AH-64D Apache Attack Helicopter. They were also quietly wiping down the entire aircraft. Helped by twenty others.

A civilian contractor sat watching TV, thinking about that young woman sleeping not too far from him.

In Columbus Ohio a middle aged woman was held by her somewhat older male friend; who had quietly asked her to marry him just a few weeks ago; they sat and watched the news. She marveled at the young woman she had bourn and brought up.

All around the world, millions of people were talking to each other about what they had seen. There are common concepts of what heroes are; firemen running into flaming buildings and bringing people out; brave souls confronting tyrants with nothing but their bodies and their words. But very few argued with the idea that that young woman who had both saved that little girl and executed that foul man who had shot her was a hero too.

And all over the world young women saw what that young woman had done and asked themselves: if she did that, what can I do?

Liz woke up and stretched; then looked at the clock and opened her eyes wide in shock. She looked frantically around her room and spied Ellen sitting on her bunk reading a book.
“Ellen! Why did you let me sleep! I am late for formation!”

“No you are not. You are excused from duty. And since I won the short straw contest so am I. One of us will stay with you. Orders from the Commanding General.”

Liz stared. With her mouth wide open.

“Catching flies?”

Her mouth closed with an audible click.

“Heroes rate some special treatment and you are a hero. Get used to it.”

Liz nodded and then got up and got dressed. She looked at Ellen. “So if you are my keeper where is my next performance?”

Ellen grinned evilly. “Interesting that you used that word…”

Liz went to the mess hall with Ellen to eat; she grabbed something and headed to a far corner.
“I hope people stop staring.”

“Get used to it. Remember what I said last night?”

“I am so screwed.”

Suddenly Liz looked at Ellen. “The Girl?”

“She has not yet waked up; I checked. She was pretty malnourished. The Doctor was a little worried but thinks she will be fine.”

She looked up as several Spec Ops troopers came up to her.

“Captain, we are your detail for the time being.”

“Detail?”

“Commanding General’s orders. You will have a detail until further notice. We were guarding the barracks last night.”

Dumbly Liz nodded. She quickly finished her meal and looked at them and Ellen. “First things first. Hospital.”

Feeling a little ridiculous being surrounded she went outside to find a Hummer with a guard on it that gave her a rigid salute that she returned. Another Hummer pulled up and the Troopers got into it to follow them to the Hospital. There she went right in and spoke to the nurse up front.
“I need to see that little girl. Now.”

The Nurse looked at the grim troopers behind her and nodded. She directed them to ICU where she still was.

Liz got to the front station and asked if she could see her. At that moment the Doctor arrived and took her with them; telling her escort to wait. The little girl was hooked up to all sorts of machines but the heart monitor showed a steady beat. Liz moved closer. She was so young and helpless. She could see a big bruise on the side of her face. She gently stoked the other side and the little girl moved slightly, murmuring. Liz remembered some of the language she knew and softly cooed gentle words to the young girl. Liz looked for a chair and pulled it up and sat there stroking her cheek. Then she reached for a small hand and clasped it. She was surprised when the pressure was returned. She looked up at the doctor.
“She squeezed my hand.”

He quickly began to check her vitals. As hee pulled up an eyelid, the eye blinked. She was awake. Liz got up and placed her hand on her cheek and crooned soft words to her.

Aliya was tired but she felt nicely warm. She blinked at the lights then felt a soft hand on her face. She turned and looked at a young woman who was smiling softly at her; calling her nice things. She remembered this woman; she thought she did. She seemed very nice. She murmured her name when the nice lady asked her.
“Aliya.”

Liz stayed a few minutes then the girl went back to sleep. Liz slowly stood up, looking at the girl. Then she looked at the doctor. “Please let me know when she is awake for a longer time.” Then Liz took her captains bars off and put the studs back in and placed them on the table next to the bed. “Let her know I will be back. Those are for her to KNOW I will be back.”

She went to the front desk and let them know the number she could be reached and then they all trooped out.

She stopped by operations and was told by the Battalion Commander that she was off of flight status for the time being. She scowled at him but he waved his hand.
“This came from WAY up the ladder.”

Liz then headed for the HQ building as that was supposedly where she might find some answers. She stopped by her barracks to get a spare set of bars.

In HQ she was taken to a conference room where she was pleased to see that interpreter. She quickly went to talk to him.

“Her name is Aliya. That is all I could get.”

He nodded. “I was able to get a little of her story. She was living with an old aunt that died yesterday. I have a feeling that the Taliban killed her too; but she was sick and old so she might have died naturally. More than likely she is an orphan now.”

“What will happen to her?”

“It is not good. But considering all that has happened a place for her can be found.”

Liz frowned. “There WILL be a place found for her.”
She began to think hard on this. Then the general came into the room and they all stood.

He had them all sit down and then looked at Liz.
“Captain, you are off of flight status by order of the President.”

Liz’s eyes got huge. “The PRESIDENT?”

“Yes. Personally gave me that order last night. That will be an interesting notation in your service record. Very few have the note ‘VOP’ verbal order Presidential. His reasoning is sound. You have dealt the single greatest blow to the Taliban since October of 2011. Now really it was self-inflicted by that idiot but since you killed him they will want your head on a pike badly. The fact that you are a young woman just makes them that much more rabid. Your combat tour is over.”

Liz sat back in shock. “This means my combat career is over period, doesn’t it?”

He took a deep breath. “In Afghanistan for certain. In all likelihood it is probably over.”

For a long moment Liz just sat there. Then she looked at the general. “With all due respect, sir, then I guess my resignation from the US Army will be on your desk by tomorrow.”

The room was totally silent. He looked at her carefully.
“Captain, do not make any hasty decisions.”


“Sir, what is the point of my staying in?”


“You could become an instructor. Your record easily qualifies you for that. You could stay at Rucker for several years being one.”


“Sir. I am not saying I might have not gone that route some day. But choosing that route and having it forced on me is a whole different story. I will not become a PR mannequin.”


He blinked at that. “Well, you will have to make your case with the President. And there will be a new one in less than two weeks. I would suggest you wait and see. You have evaluated your copilot as being qualified for Pilot so he can take your place and there are available copilots. So your unit will not be shorthanded. I would remind you that this is the slow time for combat anyway.”

“Very well I will wait and talk to THIS president and the next.”

The entire room marveled at her. She was only a captain but she dominated that room.

“Well then I guess it’s time I made that call.”

His aide spoke into the phone and waited for a minute then handed it to the general.

“Mr President, I think you need to talk to Captain Parker immediately. Since I informed her of you revoking her flight status she has offered her resignation from the US Army. And sir she is very serious about it.”


He listened and nodded. He then gestured to her and she walked around the table to take the phone, knees slightly shaking.

“Mr President this is Captain Parker. Thank you sir. I could not have lived with myself if I had done anything different sir. She will be ok; I spoke to her this morning. Her name is Aliya and it seems she is now an orphan as her last relative died last night. Yes sir I think it is very suspicious. Sir I am very serious. I will not be used for PR. If I cannot fly then I see no reason to remain in the service. I understand the concerns and reasons sir but when do we allow our enemies to dictate how we will fight them? Yes sir. Thank you sir. Well my copilot is fully qualified to pilot and I have notated that in my evaluation. Sir you were a pilot so you know the road. We have technically 2 more months of our tour but realistically we will have only about 4 weeks of combat left; our replacements have just arrived and it will take them that long to reach flight status. Yes sir. Very well sir. Thank you and goodbye Mr President. I will give the General the phone sir.”

She handed it back to the general and resumed her seat. She looked around and blinked at the looks she was getting.

“What?”

The Brigade Commander shook his head.

“Captain you just argued with a major general and then with the President of the United States whom you just told off. I think we all knew you had serious cojones but this is ridiculous. I am beginning to think your call sign of Doberman is grossly inadequate.”


The General hung up the phone and looked at her bemused.

“The President has acceded to your – I guess one could call it demand- and your flight status is returned. But I am told that it is strongly recommended that you do not fly combat for the rest of your tour. If your Copilot is qualified it’s time to find out.”

Liz considered that. ”He does deserve his chance.”


“Well now that that is settled, it is time to consider how to handle the increasing hordes of Media that is descending on us. Captain Parker, you do realize you will have to face them sooner or later?”


“Yes sir. I would rather see combat.”


“Well that is understandable.”

The President sat back, bemused. With all the problems with the bank and the economy suddenly the wars had just taken front stage again. Well one war anyway. He marveled at that young woman he had just talked to. Sighing, he realized one huge negative about leaving office; he would no longer be Commander in Chief of those such as her.


The meeting became about the press conference. The Taliban, beginning to realize just how serious this mess for it was, had reacted as usual; claiming it was all made up. Which for them was even dumber than normal. The PR officer was in constant contact with the Pentagon as they tried to figure out the best way to play the whole situation.


An urgent meeting of the Presidents top NS advisors and team was quickly called; the conclusion was to let the film speak for itself; say as little as possible. The Secretary of State felt that they did need to keep up the pressure; to not let anyone divert the attention from that brutal atrocity. The President then looked at her.

“Talking to Captain Parker, she said that the girls only remaining relative died suddenly last night. I think we can all figure out what happened there; but now from what we know and is probably correct, she is an orphan. We need to be very sure she is protected and taken care of.”


SECSTATE pondered that. “Mr President, the brutal facts are that she will NOT be safe in Afghanistan. The Taliban and its sympathizers, and our enemies, will target her. At the same time if we take her out of there, that embarrasses the Afghan government which is bad.”



SECDEF mused. “We could take her to Germany and say she requires better care. From there we could arrange something.”


SECSTATE shook her head. “That would only last a little while; just delaying things. This little girl will be famous. We cannot hide her.”


It was finally agreed that for the time being to keep her there; and to try and figure something out later to protect her.


Liz was slowly realizing that what Jesse had said was true; her life would be different from now on. Or at least the foreseeable future.


The nine hour time differential between Bagram and DC made things more difficult as far as trying to determine when to schedule the press conference. It was only three hours for most of Europe. Finally it was decided to go with 2PM EST which was 8PM for most of Europe and 11PM at Bagram.


The Commanding General would chair it; he would give a statement then show the film again then take a few questions then Liz would be on.


Liz was in BDU’s this time which made her feel better. She was still very nervous. But she remembered visiting Aliya at the hospital.


Aliya had woken up early that afternoon, feeling much better. She was still on pain medication but not as groggy. The nurse who was sitting beside her bed had a good command of Afghan and was able to talk to her. She had given Aliya the Captain Bars and Liz’s message to her. Aliya fingered the shiny thing and thought about that young woman. She was very nice.


Liz had been alerted and had gone right over; her detail still around. She walked into the room where Aliya was and saw that she was awake, if looking a little out of it due to the pain meds. She took the nurses place, who moved towards the door until Liz stopped her.
“Is there an interpreter handy?”

“I will get one quickly.”


Liz took the girls hand and with her other hand stroked her cheek. She looked much better even if the bruise on her face did not. She was very thin and clearly needed building up. She had a strong but pretty face and beautiful blue eyes. Liz dredged up the Afghan she knew and quietly told her that she would be ok.


Aliya looked at the young woman; she was very nice. She even knew a little of her language; Aliya only knew a few words on English. She managed to tell her that she wanted to know the young woman’s name.

“Elizabeth.” “Liz.”


Aliya tried them out; the first was too hard but she did pretty well on the second. “Liz.” The young woman smiled brightly.


Then the interpreter came in; Liz was happy to see that she was a local woman. She then told her that she wanted to know if Aliya had any family. The interpreter talked to her for a moment and then looked at Liz. “None other than that aunt; she does not know she is dead.”

Liz took a deep breath. “Tell her. And tell her she will be taken care of; I promise that.”


Aliya closed her eyes for a moment when told of Her Aunt’s death. They had not been close but she had been family. Now no more family. She opened them and looked at the young woman who held her hand; and was stroking her cheek. She had promised to take care of her. Maybe she would. She felt sleep coming.

Liz could see she was tiring. “Tell her to sleep; I will be back.”
Liz waited until she was asleep before leaving. She went back to the Barracks; she had about an hour to go before the press conference. Instead of thinking about that she thought about Aliya. An idea was coming to her. She called Max.


Max sat there thinking after Liz hung up. Wow.


The General began the press conference.

“Good afternoon. Yesterday there was an example of why the Taliban and all those that believe as they do cannot be considered a civilized people. In the Village of Pashir, in this province, the Taliban, in a village of their own, showed what they truly are. This is not an isolated example; there are hundreds that have been documented over the years. This one was caught on film. The girl, whose name is Aliya, had lost her parents last year in the fighting. She was staying with her last relative, an older Aunt that reportedly died last night. I will say no more as you have seen the film; but here it is again. But first this film clip of a few hours earlier when she was shown with members of the press Junket that went to that village. Then the other film clip will follow.”


It was shown. Even those that had seen it before were enraged. Then felt uplifted at what happened next. The General let the clips finish.


“She is now recovering at the hospital here on base. Her doctor has indicated she should recover fully. He will be available for questions. Now for questions.”



“General, you called the Taliban uncivilized. IS that not intolerant of another culture?”


“No culture that enslaves young women and girls and treats them as property deserves tolerance.”


“General, what will happen to the young girl?”


“That is not a subject that will be discussed at this time. She will be in that hospital recovering for many weeks.”


“General, it seems that Captain Parker gets involved in more than her share of extraordinary situations.”


“Extraordinary people tend to do that.”

He then held up his hand. “Now Captain Parker will answer some questions.”


Liz took a deep breath and came out and marched towards the Podium that the General had left. The flashes from cameras was almost blinding. All present were once again stunned at how physically small she was. Liz stood for a moment calmly (at least outwardly). She stood with her arms behind her back looking out over them. She then looked at one reporter and nodded. All present were very impressed by her almost regal bearing.

“Captain Parker. Why were you already moving towards the Village before told about the little girl?”

Interesting; that is someone who has done some digging.

“We were on alert just as a contingency force. We were informed that the little girl had been seized and roughly taken away and locked in a shed. I was on the ground at the refueling point about 30 miles away. I was well aware of the past record of the Taliban as regards women and young girls. She had been shown having pictures taken with Westerners. That usually ends very badly for that girl or woman. I talked to some Special Forces personnel who were at the point. I asked them to come with me; we were going to take that little girl away from that village. They agreed. Unfortunately on the way the helicopter developed engine trouble and had to turn back. I decided to press on; my copilot agreed. I reached the village just as that young girl was being beaten and kicked. Then shot. I then took action.”


It seemed like everyone was holding their breath after that quiet statement. She nodded to another reporter who had stood up.

“Captain Parker, you took this action on your own without discussion with any higher authority?”


“I did. And I would do it again.”


She nodded to another.


“Captain Parker, were you not worried about causing an incident by going to that village in force?”



“That little girl was more important than what anyone else would say or do later.”



The reporters all looked at each other. Her calm quiet dignity was very intimidating. She nodded at another.


“Captain Parker, were you not worried about your career?”


“One has to be able to live with oneself first.”


“Do you think your career will suffer?”


“I was grounded by order of the President. He was concerned that I would become a target. I then offered my resignation from the US Army.”


That caused a stir. She nodded to another.


“Why would you resign?”


“If I cannot fly I do not wish to remain in the military. Combat is part of that duty. If in the future I took a ground position that is one thing; or assigned to one under normal conditions that would be another. But this would be to put me in a position that not due to ability or any other reason, just basically for appearances, that I could not continence. IF an officer truly disagrees with policy or decisions, then the only honorable course of action for that officer is to resign. The President then reconsidered. At this moment I am back on flight duty status.”


The PR officer then moved forward at a nudge from the General.

“That concludes this press briefing.” Liz wasted no time and left the podium and was out of the room quickly. She went right into a restroom and stood at the sink, shaking quietly. She ran cold water and rubbed some on her face. Taking deep breaths.
After a minute or two she left the room. Outside her detail was waiting as was the PR officer. He looked at her and shook his head.
“You really do do what you think is right and damn the consequences?”


Liz looked at him. “Yes.”


He sighed. “Well that will certainly stir things up even more. You do know that you basically admitted to bullying the President of the United States, your Commander in Chief?”


She cocked her head. “So?”


“Are you really that willing to throw everything away? Resign like that?”


“Yes. If that is what you believe, then you have no choice.”

She looked at her detail. Then at the PR Officer. “How long are they stuck babysitting me?”

“Until further notice.”


Liz sighed. “Very well. Come on guys, I am heading back to the hospital to talk with Aliya.”


Aliya was awake and more alert, Liz saw. There were also a large amount of flowers present. That was surprising; they were not exactly easy to come by at this time of year. The Nurse who was sitting with her smiled at Liz’s expression.
“They started coming in right after you left. More coming all the time. We started putting them in other rooms to cheer people up.”
Liz nodded and smiled at Aliya. She smiled back shyly. Liz asked the nurse to see if the interpreter was free. Liz sat down and reached for Aliya’s hand. After a couple of minutes the interpreter came in. Liz looked at her.
“Please ask her if she knows of any family?”

Liz did not need to understand to realize Aliya had none. Her idea was becoming more to the point. Liz then asked her to talk about where she had come from and her life before.

It was not a very nice story. Her life had been hard even before her parents, poor herders, had been killed. It had even gotten tougher in the year since. After a while longer Liz got up and told her that she would be back. She searched out the doctor and asked him how long Aliya would be in the hospital; he said at the minimum another week and probably two.

Liz got back to the barracks and signed on her email; she had a lot of messages. Mostly from her mother and her friends. One from Sergeant Axton. It was short.

“Well done.” She smiled at that.

Then she emailed the personal email of the Congressman with an important question. After giving quick responses to the other emails she signed off. Then she called Max. Asked him to come over. She was waiting at the door and pulled him over to the side of the room. Luckily there was no one around at the moment.

“What do you think?”

“Are you sure of this?”

“Yes.”

“Well I would like to meet this girl.”

“Let’s go.”


Meanwhile the war continued, though the Taliban was for the moment keeping a very low profile.

As regards Liz’s press conference, that indeed stirred things up. She was cheered even more by the great majority for deciding to take action on her own. Women’s groups, sensing opportunity, were extravagantly lauding her. And others for her standing up and demanding to return to duty. The incoming president was asked and was very careful to say that she was clearly an outstanding officer and that the Military needed more like her; and that indeed what more needed to be said about the Taliban?


The Congressman noted the email and opened and read it; with his eyes widening all through it. He sat for a moment then began to find out what he needed to know.


Liz smiled at her Detail; she told Max she was stuck with them for the time being and they had better things to do then babysit her. The Detail head shook his head.

“Actually Captain, we had to draw since so many volunteered.”


Aliya looked with interest as the nice woman, Liz, came in with a somewhat older man. She saw the way Liz held his hand and the way he looked at Liz and nodded much too wisely for someone of her years. She liked him; he had a kind smile.

Max fell under the spell of Aliya right away. He knew more Afghan than Liz did and they were able to talk some.


The Congressman looked at his aide.

So there are really not many problems on THIS side of the fence?”

“No Sir.”


“The other side?”


“Will have to feel them out. But if the president were to make a formal request then I think there would be no problem.”

He thought for a minute. “Please contact the SECSTATE and let her know I would like to talk to her.”


SECSTATE put the phone down. In one respect a big surprise; but in another it should come as no surprise at all. She figured the president needed to know about this right away. Especially if they wanted this done before he left office.



Liz had left Max talking to Aliya and went back to the Operations building. She still had a lot of paperwork to take care of. There she found that Ted had gotten a copilot and they had gone out on his first mission. She was glad he was getting a chance. But she felt a little lost; she realized that more than likely she would be flying no more missions.


Ted got back just before dark and was enthused; he had not had to fire anything but was juiced. She congratulated him then went looking for Scooter.

“So Scooter do you think you will need me?”


He looked up at her and shook his head.
“Realistically probably not with as quiet as things are right now. NOW if we have a big mission – I might. Leadership in 1st Platoon is not strong right now.”


Liz nodded. “If you need me I am there.”

He stopped her before she left.
“Liz, you stood real tall. And you really took a stand at that Press conference. I think a whole lot of people would have liked to have stones like you got.”

Liz blushed and then left.


The President looked at the SECSTATE. He had asked her to come right over after her phone call. They had talked some more.

“Can we get this done before I leave office?”

“If you act right away sir.”


Liz checked her email and saw that she had a reply from the Congressman.
“Working on it. Looks hopeful.”


Liz smiled.


The General put down the phone. He sat there and blinked then called in the PR Officer and his XO. When they came in he had them close the door.

“Well I just got off the phone. Something else has been added to this circus.”


The next morning they got a quick alert that the Spec Ops wanted to do a mission that might net several higher Taliban officials; apparently a meeting had been called to discuss their current PR nightmare. Worldwide the condemnations were pouring in. They had not had all that much support anyway; mainly consisting of those countries that hated the US. Now even those were starting to back off.


The Battalion commander came into the office of the A company commander accompanied by B and C commanders.

“We got a hot one. The Taliban is calling a hasty meeting. We need to crash that party. Its near Kondoz. We are looking at having a fuel point set up. This is right in the Taliban’s back yard and unfortunately no one else is in a position to hit fast. An Air strike is out since they are having this meeting right next to a big school. We have to get our people in with a vertical assault. There is an abandoned soviet airstrip here; we can get C130’s in with fuel tonight; and have our choppers go there and refuel then hit it at first light.”


Scooter looked at Liz and nodded and she smiled. She went and found Ted.

“Looks like I get one more mission. It’s a biggie.”

The rest of the day was a scramble to get everything ready for this kind of a mission. They would leave after dark so no one would see what direction they would be going. IT would take them a full hour to get to the airstrip. There they would refuel and try and get some rest; they would take off one hour before dawn.


The entire battalion was going; this was not only a raid it was a show of force. Right in the Taliban’s back yard. The 5th Battalion would send 16 Black Hawks; 8 for the mission and 8 as backup. A company would be the close support; B company top cover; with C Company in reserve. The Air Force would be deploying a AWACS and the mission commander would be in that. They would have strike fighters flying high cover. It was emphasized to identify them clearly, but any Taliban forces were to be hit.

Liz managed one more visit with Aliya and all but ordered Max to watch over her. He realized it was a big mission and understood her unspoken message. If the worst happened he would take care of her no matter what. She quickly wrote a letter and left it with Max just in case.


They left at 2000 and headed south until well away from the air base then headed north. They would be cruising at 120 Knots, and it would take them about 90 minutes to get to the air strip.


The operation to take the airstrip went easily; as satellite recon had shown, there was no one there. It had been cleared out several years ago just in case. A Special Forces team parachuted in to make sure there were no mines or anything on the airstrip. They confirmed it was clear and usable and the first C130 landed at 2100. The Choppers got there just a little after 2130. Everyone refueled and sacked out as best they could inside the C130’s. Liz and the Crew, the only women on the mission, grabbed a corner and managed to get about 4 hours sleep. Which was better than nothing.

Meanwhile Predators had tracked at least one Taliban leader to the building that they were going to hit.

Everyone was in their choppers and going at 0500. Dawn was 0610 and they were going to hit right then.


A Company was right with the initial attack force; 8 Blackhawks packed with Special Ops. They were flying at about 3000 feet at near top speed. IT had been decided to fly with just on auxiliary fuel tank; the distance from the airstrip to target was only about 50 miles but they wanted a little extra just in case. This also allowed them to go at max speed in and out.

The Predator was on station at 50,000 feet; unseen and unheard. It was lasing the building; the Lead Apache’s would home in on that laser strike and guide the Blackhawks in. Both Scooter and Liz would be following the laser.


Liz picked up the laser and called in.

“Doberman to Scooter; I have the beam.”

“Scooter to Doberman; my system is out- lead them in.”


Liz took a deep breath and concentrated on her instruments that showed where the beam was hitting. She slowed down as per procedure and the Blackhawks closed in tighter to her; she would lead them right to the building. She was still going over 80 knots.

In the lead Chopper Ellen was fixated on Liz’s apache. She was maybe 100 feet away.

Liz now had visual on the building and she could see the school right across the street. Thankfully this early there would be no kids there. Liz slowed and stopped 50 feet above the building and right at its edge and the Choppers hovered and the Spec Ops rappelled out and down to the top of the building. So far she could see no resistance.

She moved up to 100 feet and began to circle the building; the other ships of her platoon right with her. A ring of death circling the building.

Down below the people had been awoken by the noise; most cowered and hid. Some did not.


Ken sighted the first resistance. “Hostiles at front- firing.”

He hosed several AK-47 armed people who had started shooting. They were swept away.


Liz kept circling and watching; she saw a truck speeding down a street towards them. She put her sight on it and told the others.

“Vehicle. Pulling out; Whistler maintain pattern.”

She saw it was a pickup and it had a 12.7MM MG in the back and she did not hesitate. 5 30MM rds blew it up. Now more calls were coming from the other three about resistance but so far nothing serious.


“Scooter to Doberman; more vehicles coming towards you- we will take care of them.” He moved off.

“10-4”


Inside the building the Special ops had already penetrated the 2 story building that sprawled over half a block to the ground floor. They had eliminated more than 20 without taking any hits.


The Blackhawks had moved up to 1000 feet waiting for dustoff.


The Taliban leader tried to escape the building and Liz saw him. She took him and his bodyguards out with half a dozen 30MM shots.


The Spec Ops commander had found some files and paperwork and they grabbed them for the intelligence weenies to look at. Then he gave the order.

“Dustoff!”


Liz heard that and ordered the rest of the platoon to look for possible resistance as the Blackhawks began to come down.


The only thing Liz worried about was someone on a roof top with an RPG.
“Doberman to everyone- eyeball rooftops looking for RPG’s”


Then leading the way she began to buzz the neighboring rooftops at only 50 feet or so; the blast alone would knock anyone down.

Liz heard a couple of pings and realized someone was tossing what was likely 7.62 at her. She looked around but it was Ted that found him. And took care of him with 1 30MM rd.

“Night Night.”


Then she got the welcome word.


“Eagle Lift to Spectres; we are gone.”

Scooter wasted no time. “Spectre Lead to everyone- Time to BUG OUT!”


No one hung around. The Blackhawks were clear and moving fast; the Apache’s were right behind them.


Liz began to relax as they hit 3000. Nothing but a major AA weapon could reach them at that height. Not likely to find anything like that away from the City.


It was actually an anticlimax after that; there were no problems getting to the air strip; everyone refueled and then by 1000 they were heading home. They landed at around 1130.



Meanwhile the President had made a call to the President of Afghanistan. He promised to call back quickly with a reply.


The SECSTATE was going over things while Legal was making sure every T was crossed and every i was dotted. The Congressman was called.

Liz finished the mission debrief at 1300. It went faster than she had expected. She looked at Scooter as they headed towards their offices.
“Well for what was probably my last combat mission it went pretty well.”

He nodded. “Will not know for a while if ever just what we got out of this one but we certainly let them know we can go anywhere we want to get them.”


Liz spent an hour doing paperwork then called Max. He was very glad to hear from her; and told her that he absolutely agreed with her plan. She went to meet him and get something to eat; ration bars were all she had had since early the day before and she wanted real food. She good-naturedly went along with her detail; they told her that they would probably be pulled in the next day or so; she was very happy to hear that.


After eating they went back to the Hospital to see Aliya. They spent about an hour with her then Max went back to work and Liz headed to the barracks to take a long hot shower and change. The Crew was waiting for her. They relaxed for a while then Liz decided to tell them her plan.

They sat there dumbfounded. Then one by one they hugged her and showed their complete support. Liz then decided to check her email; and was glad to see another one from the Congressman.

“Looks good. Should happen soon.”



The General was talking on the phone. “Yes sir. No problem sir. I guess we just need the details. The Mission went very well; we got at least one high level Taliban and also picked up some Intel. No casualties at all. No damage. About as perfect as an operation can go.”


Intelligence in the pentagon was going over the predator feed from the mission. They had identified the Taliban Leader killed. Their number two overall. One of the officers was able to get the SN off of the Apache that had iced him and looked at the others.
“Well, who else was going to get him?”


SECDEF the next morning was briefed by the CENTCOM commander.

“And finally sir I guess we really do not have to tell you which Apache Driver iced the head honcho.”


He looked at the CENTCOM commander and smiled. “IT was only logical.”


Liz got a call to head to HQ first thing the next morning. She hoped she knew the reason why.

The General was waiting for her in his office. She took the seat offered and waited.


“Captain you are sure of this?”


“Absolutely.”


“Very well. The President has made the request and it has been approved. You just need to start on the paperwork. You do realize that it will be quite a bit?”


“Yes sir.”


He handed her a thick folder. “Get started on it. Have you told her yet?”


“Not yet, sir. I was NOT going to get her hopes up yet.”


“Good decision.”


Liz walked out of the building and got into the Hummer with her detail following. She made a decision and as they parked at the Hospital she turned to her driver.

“I am going to adopt Aliya. It’s been approved and I just have to fill out tons of paperwork.”

The driver blinked then smiled widely. “Congratulations, Captain. And DAMN WELL DONE!”


Liz headed into the hospital and asked to see Aliya’s doctor; she was told he would be by her room in a little bit. She went into the room and found Aliya awake and with a book. She saw that it was a book of Afghan/English translation. She knew that her parents had been teaching Aliya to read, and this was a good sign. She clearly wanted to talk. She smiled at Liz and started to put down the book- Liz motioned her that she wanted the book and the girl gave it to her. Liz began to leaf through it; she had some post –its and used them to mark the word and pages.

Aliya watched with interest. Liz was trying to tell her something.

Finally done Liz handed her the book, showing the order she wanted Aliya to read. Aliya began to work it out as Liz waited with baited breath.


Aliya’s eyes widened; then she went over it again. The same answer. She looked at Liz with huge eyes. Liz smiled widely and took her hand and nodded yes. Aliya’s eyes filled with tears and she began to cry; Liz got onto the bed and held the little girl as she cried. The Doctor came in and saw this and waited; he noticed the book on the side and picked it up. He read the areas designated and was amazed; then asked himself why he should be?

Aliya began to calm down. Liz still stroking her hair and crooning to her as she held her. Aliya finally sat back; she looked tired and Liz stood up as the doctor checked her and told Aliya to get some sleep. He followed Liz out the door and took her to his office where he closed the door.

“Congratulations Captain Parker. I should not have been surprised. I will need to fill out some paperwork too, I wager.”

Liz nodded and took out the file. She pulled a sheaf of papers and handed them to him. “I have been told it will take a lot of paperwork.”


“I am sure it will; I will get right on it.”



Liz headed back to the barracks; her detail were smiling like loons and she told them to keep it under their green beanies and they grinned and agreed.


Back at the barracks she started on the many forms. Luckily the Crew was out so she had peace and quiet; the Barracks was all but deserted.


One thing CENTCOM had been wrestling with was whether or not to recommend Parker for another medal for her rescue of the little girl. It was an unauthorized mission so some felt it was better to just let it go. Others felt they would be considered cheap if nothing was done. It was kicked back and forth and CENTCOM decided that if a recommendation for one came up it would approve of it but otherwise they would do nothing.


Some in the media and elsewhere thought she should get one. It was pointed out that she had done it without orders so it could not be said to be part of her duty. On one talk show the host decided to really get it out there:

“Should Captain Elizabeth Parker be awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor?”

He pointed that it was clearly above and beyond duty; that no one would have known if she had not decided to do anything. She had made the decision on her own; she had risked her life, clearly. She had killed the enemy and rescued a little girl. All that technically fulfilled the official requirements for the MOH. Needless to say it got a lot of attention. But most military background people felt that was going too far.


This began to percolate; and the women’s groups heard about it and demanded that if she was not given that, some other high award should be given. The Presidential Medal of Freedom began to get some attention.


Unaware of this brewing situation, Liz worked at the paperwork. She had gotten in touch with the American Embassy in Kabul, and they had made recommendations as to what to do on some of it. They then told her that a Person would be coming to Bagram to help her with it. That had come about through a call from the SECSTATE to the Ambassador. He called in his aide.

“Captain Parker is going to adopt that little girl she saved. Send someone to Bagram that can help her with the paperwork.”



It was now a week past the incident and it was finally going to the back pages mostly. Though the comments about the Taliban were still, worldwide, very hot.


In his last meeting with the incoming President, he decided that this situation needed to be touched on.

“Captain Parker is in the process of adopting that little girl.”

The Incoming POTUS blinked.

“Incredible.”


“Not when you look at her record. One other thing that you might have heard about; there is a fair amount of pressure coming from Women’s groups that she should be awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom. I would imagine that could very well gain momentum. I would not be adverse at all from doing it; though some of my advisors think that is going too far. You look at who has been awarded it; and frankly you can argue either way.”


“Are you?”


“I am torn. I have had only brief conversations with her; but I think she would think it too much. She already has a very impressive number of decorations. Yet to not recognize her action seems wrong. It was done without orders strictly on her own authority.”


The Incoming POTUS thought about it. “Would you be willing to leave that up to me?”


“I would. All things considered too many might read something political into anything I do in my last week in office. She deserves better. And there is no reason not to wait until she returns to the US in March.”


“I will consider if fully.”



Meanwhile the outgoing SECSTATE was talking to the incoming SECSTATE designate.

“That pretty much covers what is going on right now. That last incident has REALLY helped us in Afghanistan. If there is anyone better cast for the classic villain roll, it’s hard to beat the Taliban.”


“It is almost as if they work at it.”


“I find it hard to imagine they could do any worse if they were. OH. By the way; Captain Parker is adopting that little girl. The paperwork is in process and the President of Afghanistan has already signed off on it.”


“Really? That is remarkable.”


“The more I learn about that young woman, the more I think that she may be one of the most extraordinary young people of this current age. A finer young woman I find hard to imagine.”



Liz finally got the paperwork done; the doctor got his part done. Now she just had to deliver it to the embassy. Her Detail had finally been dismissed but the Driver had made it plain that he would deliver it to the embassy in Kabul when the time came. So she gave him a buzz and he picked it up.


There had been few missions in the last week; the weather was unusually bad and most days flight operations were not possible.


Liz had been working in her spare time, which she did have more of, on learning Afghan. Aliya was working on learning English; and doing better at reading and writing.


Where Aliya would stay after she got out of the hospital and before she left with Liz to the US, had been something Liz had worried a little about. Vicki squashed that as soon as she heard Liz wonder.

“We put a cot in here. We got room. This way she will be around your friends and you as much as possible. She needs to learn how to live in a modern facility.”


Liz had emailed her mother and Maria, Tess and Isabelle about what she was doing. She told them to not tell anyone else about it.


Her mother had been gobsmacked at first; then scolded herself for that. If one knew Liz this was to be expected.


Maria had read it first and squealed; attracting the attention of the others; they had just gotten back to Georgia for their final semester.

“Liz is adopting Aliya!”


They had already started planning weddings; all four of them would be getting married in June. So now they had a designated flower girl.


It had been decided that since the incoming Aviation Brigade would be operational on the 7 of February, that the last mission of the 101st Aviation Brigade would come on the 6th. Several supply missions were scheduled; so far no combat missions were in the works. They would spend the next three weeks packing up and getting their birds ready to be shipped. They were due to leave Afghanistan on 10 March, 2009.

Aliya had been released by the hospital on 18 January, 11 days after admittance. She was still a little weak, and the stitches needed to come out. So she was carefully brought in a ambulance and Max carried her into the building and to Liz’s room and installed on a very nice little bed that someone had scrounged; not a cot. Liz and the others fussed with her for the rest of the day, since it was a no fly day.


Aliya was bug eyed much of the first day; this was such a totally different lifestyle. Indoor plumbing; neither hot nor cold. Soft bed and peace and quiet at night. Plenty of different new things to do during the day.

The next day Liz carefully took her around to the Operations building and her office; and then to the hanger to show her Liz’s Apache; though now Ted used it. Aliya had been very much the VIP everywhere she went. Liz worked to make sure it was not too much for her. When Aliya had been shown the Apache she had been very quiet. Grunt was right there; and showed her everything about it; even if she did not understand all of it. She touched the side and looked into the front cockpit; she was much too short to see the rear one. She looked at Liz.

“Eagle.”

Liz nodded.


Liz then took her that evening to the mess hall; she was still on a somewhat restricted diet. Liz and the others had helped her to understand forks and spoons. Liz got a small table in the corner; Aliya still attracted a lot of attention which clearly intimidated her; but she seemed to be adapting ok. They ate and Liz took her back to the barracks for an afternoon nap.


AS Aliya got stronger, Liz took her out more. Liz had to still do lots of paperwork and was working on the deployment back to the states. The good thing about this time of year was that with the relatively quiet nature of the war, they had time to get things done. But there was a lot of work to be done. A full inventory had to be conducted; so that the incoming brigade would know what they had. What could not be accounted for had to be reported. And since Liz was a captain and not currently flying she ended up doing most of those. Very time consuming but not hard.

Ted was getting in a fair amount of flying in; and Liz had talked to Scooter about that.

“Is he finally officially a pilot?”


“Yes he is.”


“Good. What is the pilot situation going to be like when we get back to Campbell?”


“We will be losing about one third for various reasons. Seems like it will be about average. You will be getting the Company; I will be taking over B company.”


Liz nodded. More paperwork. Then she had a thought.

“Will any officers be transferring in or do you know? Because right now we really are short.”


“The other two companies have more officers; so we will transfer in one for A company so that the other platoon will have an officer.”


Liz sighed; she had gotten so comfortable with everyone in A Company that the thought of newbies did not thrill her. Scooter figured out what she was thinking about.

“Before our next deployment you will have plenty of time to learn the quirks of everyone. And most of our new pilots will be copilots upgrading inside the Battalion.”


“Next deployment. That will probably be Iraq, right?”


“Fairly certain. Not etched in stone yet; that will not happen for a few more months. But that is what the schedule shows. Though if they keep to the commitment as regards combat troops out of Iraq by end of 2011 we might be the last. And it could very well be cut short.”


“One can hope.”


Liz did not want to think about another deployment but had to be realistic.


That evening they spent some time with Max. Aliya understood that Liz would be marrying Max when they got to the US. He also made it a point to make sure she understood that he would be adopting her as well. They would be a family.

Max had decided to talk to Liz about things coming up.


“Liz, I know you want children. The question is when.”


Liz nodded. She had been thinking about that.
“I think I will wait until after my next deployment; that will give us a couple of years to get used to each other and for Aliya to get used to us. I will only be 28 so that is not a problem. And you are not that old.”


He grinned at her. “I will prove that during our honeymoon.”


They had decided to get married soon after they returned to the US. She would have 30 days of leave and his job did not start until May. Plenty of time to get married and settle in; Aliya would stay with Nancy during their honeymoon.


The girls at Georgia were disappointed that Liz could not wait until they all could get married in June but understood. Meanwhile the Crew were deep into marriage arrangements; they had lived long enough in Campbell to know everyone that they would need for a nice marriage. Liz was looking at getting Married one week after getting back in country. She had already quietly notified her Company and Battalion commanders. She had also recruited someone to walk her down the aisle.


One day Liz had found Ted by himself in the hanger and had cornered him. He saw a determined Liz heading his way and started looking for emergency exits but was stopped by Liz.

“Ted. Will you walk me down the aisle when I marry Max?”

His jaw had dropped and then he had grinned like a maniac.
“Of course, Liz.”


The Crew had come up with endless pictures of wedding gowns; but Liz had been very picky. Aliya had been also recruited. In the end a simple off the shoulder gown had been what she had decided on. Luckily there was one in stock in the nearby town and Vicki had threatened the shop owner with horrible consequences if it was not there when they arrived.


Feb 1 was a very important day. The Spec Ops guys had made a run to Kabul and had brought back a package from the Embassy. Liz had opened it in her room and had smiled. She then pulled Aliya to her and showed her a US Passport with her picture in it. Aliya was now a naturalized US citizen and Liz was officially her parent. The Citizenship had been what the Congressman called his Wedding Present.

Aliya had touched the very important looking papers and then had looked up at Liz.
“You my mother?”

Liz had nodded and hugged her and cried.


Liz was waiting at the flight line when A company arrived on the afternoon of the 6th of February, completing their last mission in Afghanistan. She hugged Ted and then that night they had a real party.

From that point on things got frantic as last minute problems and glitches, as they always did, hampered the smooth deployment.

It had been decided that Max would leave with Aliya the day before the flight taking the last of the Brigade back to Campbell took off. They would be going by commercial air; though leaving from Bagram.


The next 4 weeks either flew or dragged depending on your point of view.

On the 20th the Special Forces threw a party for the Brigade and it was a total blowout. Liz was a little tearful when saying goodbye to the many good friends she had made in Special Operations. And they made it a point to let her know that they considered her a special friend. And one of them. Aliya was also made very welcome.


Finally Liz stood there waving goodbye as the plane carrying Max and Aliya left on 9 March 2009. She went back to the temporary quarters they were all staying in and tried to get some sleep.


Nancy Parker eagerly waited for the plane carrying her daughter landed at Campbell Army Airfield. Her and many other relatives were impatiently waiting as their loved ones arrived from Afghanistan. As to be expected, Liz was on the last plane. She looked to her right at Max Evans, her daughters fiancé. He had a strong arm around her daughters adopted child, Aliya Parker. Aliya was a treasure and such a sweet child.

Finally the plane landed and to cheers the soldiers slowly walked down the stairs to stand in formation one more time. She and Max and Aliya cheered as they spotted that small figure coming down the stairs.

Liz was as happy as she had ever been, going down the stairs. As one of the more senior officers, she would line up with the others in front of the formation.


Nancy was so proud as she saw her daughter line up with the officers; and it never ceased to make her smile how little Liz was.


The Brigade Commander marched up with the Unit Flag and called the Brigade to attention.

“101st Aviation Brigade. DISMISSED!”


Pandemonium as families reunited. Max, holding Aliya and Ed making sure he had a firm grip on Nancy, made their way and found Liz who hugged her mother first, then Aliya, then got kissed senseless by Max.


Liz had leaned on a couple of people and had managed to get Married Quarters assigned to her even though she was not technically married. She had a hunch that the Special Ops boys had made a call or two; they had a very nice house. They had purchased a lot of furniture online while still in Afghanistan and had had it delivered in the last week. It was a nice 3 bedroom house that looked very good and was reasonably new.

Liz led Aliya through the house and showed her where her room was. Being told and seeing it are two different things. Aliya had huge eyes at the size of the home she would be living in.

Ed and Nancy were in a motel in town with Max. Until she was married he was not supposed to be staying there and they had decided to stick with propriety. Besides a little time alone with Aliya was a good idea anyway. Liz had sold her little car before leaving for Afghanistan, but Max had gotten an SUV that had stayed with a friend at Campbell so they had transportation. They would get a small car just for Liz. Nancy and Max had made sure that the house already had all it needed as regards sheets and pillows and towels and basic kitchen utensils and a complete set of china and plates and such. They all pitched in to unpack and place what was needed. Then went into town and ate at a restaurant. Jet Lag began to catch up with Liz and the others left her and Aliya at the quarters. Aliya was very certain that Liz needed to sleep and Liz was very touched by her concern. By 2000 Liz was dead to the world.

At 0600 Liz slowly woke up. She felt loads better. She had drank a lot of water all during the flight and it seemed to have allowed her Jet Lag to go away quickly. She got up and took a shower then went looking for Aliya. She found her sitting in the kitchen watching TV on the small set her mom had gotten. Liz kissed her then fixed a quick breakfast. Max and the others would not be in until 10 so they spent a few hours just talking; their joint efforts of Liz learning Afghan and Aliya learning English had resulted them meeting somewhat in the middle in a mish mash that sounded weird but worked for them. They would be hitting the Mall with her mother while Max would be starting to look for a car for Liz and other male things with Ed.


That day Liz and Nancy introduced Aliya to that particular set of rituals known as shopping at the mall. Aliya was very wide eyed at the incredible selection of things. Liz and Nancy made sure that she had an entire wardrobe; and that Liz get some new clothes as well. And then of course there were shoes. Liz had decided that Aliya would start school in the fall. She would spend the next 6 months getting her ready. Basic English and reading and writing would be the primary courses Liz intended Aliya to have; but she also needed to start to learn how to interact with other American pre-teens. Liz hoped it would not get too hard for her. One of the things that had had to be decided was Aliya’s birthday, since she was not totally sure of the date. She was 9 years old sometime in January, so Liz had just decided that 18 January was it and that was her birthday. Liz was looking at her starting 4th grade in September.

They had a very enjoyable day and then Max called at 2 to say they thought they had a car possibility so they headed to where Ed and Max had found a small used car lot that had a good Toyota Tercell that was only 4 years old. Liz looked it over and got it. They left that lot with the car. Max and Ed had also got a home entertainment center and big screen TV and some other toys included 3 desktop computers and a laptop for Liz. Aliya would begin to learn how to use one. That evening Nancy cooked a big dinner and christened the oven in Liz’s quarters by baking a pie; which was widely appreciated by all. The next day Liz met up with her wedding party; they would be married on that Saturday. The Crew was introduced to Nancy and Ed; and Ted as well. Friday Maria and Tess and Isabelle came in and they had a massive slumber party. They got in early and did not stop talking until midnight. The girls were gooey over Aliya. Diane and Phillip had gotten in that day as well and Max’s good friend from his Marine days arrived and they were all ready to go.


Ted checked his uniform; he was in Class A’s as was a number of the Aviation Brigade. The Post Chapel was where the wedding would be held. In the vestry he waited for Liz to show up.

Liz had been very happy that the Crew and her old friends had gotten along so well. She had been a little worried.


Nancy looked at her daughter through her tears. She had wanted and dreaded this day to happen.
“Honey you look so beautiful.”

“Mom don’t make me cry or I will look like a raccoon.”

Finally she stepped into the vestry. Ted’s jaw dropped.

“You look absolutely gorgeous Liz.”

Then the wedding march sounded and he held out his arm.
“Showtime!”


The Chapel was almost packed as many of the Aviation brigade had stayed for the wedding. Maria was Liz’s maid of honor and Aliya was the flower child. And very quickly it was done. The Chapel had a hall next to it for the reception and fun was had by all. Vicki caught the bouquet. Max and Liz caught a flight out that evening to Hawaii for the week long honeymoon. Aliya would go with Nancy and Ted to Columbus for the week.


Liz Parker Evans woke up with a strong arm around her – and then she remembered and blushed. A chuckle came from behind her.

“My blushing bride.”

Liz now had no regrets about marrying as a virgin. ABSOLUTELY NONE.

Sun sand and lots of time in bed was how Liz would remember her honeymoon.


They settled down in the home and got used to living with each other. Most of the rest of the brigade was on leave as was Liz, technically. But Liz being Liz a full weak before her leave ran out she just had to get back to doing things. Max would be home for another month before his job started so he could stay with Aliya. When they were both working Aliya would stay at the base childcare facility which was built with all children from 1-17 in mind. And Aliya would also have the chance to start getting used to being with other kids her age.


Liz walked into the Brigade Commanders office and found that he had gotten in the previous day. New transfers were around but most of the Afghan returnees were still gone. So she got roped into getting things going as she was the ranking 1st Battalion officer present. Their aircraft had gotten in and were being unwrapped and unpacked subject to a full refurbishment.


Liz found herself happy to be busy and got right down to it. She greeted the new pilots and copilots and ground crew. And they started to get things ready for the Brigade to being operating.

Max spent time working with Aliya on her reading and writing and basic mathematic skills. She was a very bright girl; she just had never been taught much.


The third day back Liz got a call from Brigade to come to HQ. She wondered what was up.


The commander greeted her and took her into the office and closed the door.

“Liz on the 20th of May you will be awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom.”


Liz closed her eyes then opened them.
“I had hoped they would leave me alone.”


He shrugged. “PR move of course. From what I was told the pressure from the women’s groups never let up. You know in some respects they have a point. The Taliban will never really recover from that incident; and all the others that have been mentioned lately. So if you are looking at it from an impact point of view, it is warranted.”


“Bullshit. They had the film. The Taliban was going down.”


“True. But the contrast between what they did and what you did just made it more obvious the differences. Anyway, don’t fight it. It is what it is.”
Liz got home and both Aliya and Max right away noticed she was not happy.

She kissed Max then hugged Aliya and told them what was going to happen. Max looked at her.

“Those that matter will understand. The rest do not matter.”


A week later it was released to the media and Liz hid out as much as she could. Working to get the Company up and running took a lot of time anyway as she was officially now its commander. Griffith was now Battalion commander and Winston was probably going to move up to XO. She had A company; and a LT Sam Rivers came in from C Company. He seemed all right and took over 2nd Platoon. She got Ted as her wingman and Ken as well. Sid Wilson, a copilot in B Company became the final member of 1st platoon.


The amount of paperwork that being company commander earned her was sad. She was just happy she kept Grunt as her crew chief and the same bird she trusted so well. They were flying by the middle of April.


One quiet day Liz brought Aliya to the flight line. Grunt fixed her up with a flight suit and Liz took her up in the Apache. That was really not allowed but Liz wanted her daughter to understand what she did and this was the best way. Afterwards Aliya was very quiet but let Liz know she had figured it out.


Liz checked her Dress Blue uniform; all brand new to the latest army regs. Taking a deep breath she moved to the designated seat at the table in the White House grand dining hall. Max was on her right and Aliya on her left. Aliya looked very sweet and Max in his tuxedo looked good enough to eat. On the other side was a very proud Nancy Parker in a brand new dress.


Liz was very grateful that only pictures were taken; no questions asked.


After it was over Aliya fingered the medal dangling from Liz’s neck. She looked up at her mother.


“Pretty.”


As Elizabeth Parker Evans, Captain, United States Army, realized, she had a very good life.


The End.