Wounded

"SWEATY MEN!"

"Right. And who are the only men I'm going to give a ride back to the tenement in my beautiful van...."

"SWEATY MEN!"

"Damn! You are trainable." Looking behind her, "Isn't this great? Just like Basic Training right? I've seen movies." By this time all the Counselors and PT folks had come in to view the commotion.

"THEN WHY THE FUCK AREN'T YOU SOAKED? Don't you care about my tender feelings. I must say I'm quite hurt. In fact, I feel a fucking tear." And she dabbed her eyes with her fingers. "You're making me cry. AND YOU KNOW I HATE TO FUCKING CRY!"

Looking around she spied a sweat covered man in one of the other groups and walked up to him. "What's your name, soldier?"

"William, Ma'am."

"God, I love this guy. Whose your driver?"

"Carlos."

"Ah, Carlos. He's so dreamy. sometimes I....well, nevermind. So why are you all sweaty and all these losers think they're at the country club?"

"I wanna get better and get home, Ma'am."

Whipping around, looking her squad. "See! Just like I told you. You have to bust your ass to get the hell out of my van and go home! William I could just take my gloves off and kiss you!" She flung off the raincoat, her gloves, and rushed forward. She grabbed his shoulders and kissed his cheek.

Putting a disgusted look on her face and rubbing her hands on her jeans. "God, that was gross. He's REAL sweaty!

"Just kidding!" And she gave him a long, full bodied hug and drew his head down to whisper into his ear, "I'm proud of you, William. I hope you get home soon."

Looking back at her crew, "I would be proud to have William in my van." Looking around she ran over to a sweaty man in the third group. "And what is your name?"

"Christopher."

"What, no Ma'am?"

"Christopher, Ma'am."

"Just kidding, Christopher. Ma'am makes me feel so old. You're forbidden to say it. And who is your driver?"

"Monica, Ma'am."

"Christopher! Don't make Shorty Walker upset..."

"Yes, M.... Yes, Miss Walker." And the guys all laughed. So did Katie.

"Christopher. You're starting to grow on me. Sweaty and funny. But again I digress."

"Who is your driver?"

"Monica."

"Ahhh, the lovely Monica. I love her hair! Long, black, straight. I have this mousey brown hair I have to dye every month. God I hate these brown roots. See them Christopher?"

"No, Ma'am."

"God! I love this guy too!" She gave him a big hug and kiss on the cheek. Turning to her band. "Good looking, polite, fun, and SOAKING FUCKING WET! I would be very proud to have his sweaty carcass in my van as well.

"Monica has great hair, but I have a nicer ass, don't I, Christopher? And, yes, I checked out her ass. Know thy enemy, right? So is my ass nicer, Christopher?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Christopher! I judged you as a man of truth. Aren't the Marines all about honor and stuff. And I know, you thought it was OK to tell a wee little white lie so as not to hurt my feelings....BUT YOU CAN'T EVEN SEE MY ASS IN THESE JEANS. I HATE THEM. My Mom bought these jeans because mine were too 'provocative' 'to wear in front of all those men.' So here I am wearing Mom jeans my Mom bought. What the hell kind of life is that?"

Walking back to her men, "So why are you here?"

Silence. Then from the back, "To get better and go home."

"Was that you, my oh so quiet Greg? It was! That's right! Those guys over there," pointing at the Counselors and therapists "don't think you're ready. Why? Because you need to get better physically. To be everything you can be when you leave. But it doesn't mean anything if you're no better mentally, spiritually, and in your hearts."

"And why aren't you getting better and going home?"

They all chimed in, "Because we're afraid."

"That's right! And I spent yesterday talking to wives, girlfriends, moms, and others. I'll tell each of you all about it later. But they are scared to death. George! You wife cries every night knowing you're so close and yet she can't touch you, hold you. She's afraid she's losing you. George! You have to get off of my fucking van! Please!

"Jamie. I talked to your Mom. She cries every time she thinks about what you're going through and she can't be here to help. You have to get the fuck off my van! I talked to your girlfriend Sheila. She started talking about you being muy pequeno." And she held her thumb and index about an inch and a half apart.

"Jamie colored red and looked down. Just as the snickers were starting she said, "No, she actually said something about 'it takes two hands to handle a whopper.'" Lots of cat calls and laughs.

"Jamie. She loves you and longs to touch you again. Get off my van. Please! All of your families and loved ones were like that. Phew! Tough night."

Turning to the other van groups, "My guys can tell you all about my sermon on the mount about fear and being afraid, but I have another sermon for all of you low life's.

"My guys are rolling their eyes and thinking where is the fucking gun so I can end this before she starts. She's gonna stand up there like a crazy woman and yell and cry and do all sorts of shit! And they're right. Why? Because I care. I care about every one of you even if we haven't met.

"Well, today's sermon is kind of a bad news, good news thing.

"The bad news is YOU'RE FUCKED UP!" She yelled. The counselors looked at each other. "Fucked up physically. Fucked up mentally. And fucked up spiritually. Each of you with your own combination and specifics. And that's what war is all about. It's awful. It does terrible things to you...," looking each man in the eyes, "it makes you do terrible things, see terrible things. It takes things from you that you'll never get back. You don't come back the same.

"But you have a choice. You can let those times rule your life, ruin your life, so you become one of those lonely alcoholic vets sitting in the bar talking about the good old days and your comrades.

"Swapping tales and lies. Over and over and over. Like ground hog day. I had an uncle like that. My Mom still wishes there was something she could have done. She feels guilty.

"You can be like the college frat boys who 20 years later still long for those four years and never grow up. Like Peter fucking Pans. They forgot about the tests, the pressures, the pains of growing up that they also experienced in college. Or the football player who never made it to the pros and relives every game over and over and fucking over.

"You can do that if you want. You can stay on the van. But you'll lose your wives, your girlfriends, your family, your friends. All the good things in life. If you're going to lose everything of value? Why did you go over there to protect it in the first place? That makes no sense. Please, please! Don't do it!" She whispered, "Get off the van!"

She was crying now. "My guys call me Little Miss Sunshine, wonder why? And look over there at your counselors and therapists. The best in their fields. They're thinking 'Who the hell let this crazy person in? She needs help. She just told all these guys they're afraid and fucked up. It'll set them back weeks.'

"Well, I've already shared with you that all the folks you left behind at home are scared. Just liked you. But the good news is WE. ARE. ALL. FUCKED. UP. TOO. Just like you.

"I'm fucked up. I was a little fucked up before, but looking into the eyes of all of you brave men who have sacrificed so much for our country, my country. God! I pray every night to give me strength.

"I don't think I could go through what you all have. Just the glimpse of it in your eyes is too much for me. But you all have made it this far. Just push a little more." Whispering again, "Get off the vans and back into the arms of your loved ones. Please!"

Wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "So, I'm fucked up. Look at your Counselors. They are here because they are the best in their field. But. THEY'RE FUCKED UP! Why? Because you made them that way. They're fucked up because they care!

"It would be so much easier for them if they didn't care. They want you off the van. Hell, I'm going to see three of those friggin' Counselors at a time to try to get my shit together after dealing with you all.

"But look at your therapists. Physical therapists, occupational therapists, therapist therapists. Again, the best in their fields. They could be taking care of golfers with sprained backs. But they are here. Taking care of the toughest rehab cases. Why? Because they care.

"Hell, I have no idea what they do. But they're fucked up! If they weren't before, my little sermon has fucked them up. Your therapists are fucked up BECAUSE THEY DON'T MAKE YOU ALL SWEAT!

"But pick up any paper, any news web site, talk to folks you meet. Everyone is fucked up. Everyone is dealing with their demons. No matter what the God damned war did to you, DON'T LET THOSE DEMONS WIN!

"What do the Marines always say? Leave no comrade behind. Please, please. I want you all to get off the van, but for heaven's sake, do not, do not, leave your comrades here. Swallowed up by fear, pain, anguish, and maybe guilt.

"For God's sake, and your own....help them. Talk to them, listen to them. You were there! You can help. You can understand better than your Counselors or me or your priest or whoever. Your Counselors can help you, guide you, offer their advice. But they don't really understand. THEY WERE NOT THERE! LEAVE NO ONE BEHIND!"

Turning to the Counselors, "Are there vans of women soldiers?" They nodded.

"Those women are your comrades in arms too. They are wounded in their bodies, minds, hearts, and spirit. JUST LIKE YOU! Let me tell you. As a woman, sometimes it's easier to talk about things with a man. A MAN WHO IS NOT PUTTING THE MOVES ON YOU.

"And I know, because I have brothers and male friends, that it is sometimes easier for them to talk to a woman. A WOMAN THEY ARE NOT PUTTING THE MOVES ON. Help those women, your comrades, get off the van and they will help you. No comrade left behind.

"You need to get better so you, yes, YOU can assist those who stayed at home and worry about you. And they will help you. It's a win:win if you'll let it happen.

"Will life be a bed of roses? Fuck no! But it wouldn't have been a bed of roses even if you had stayed home. Everyone's demons seem like the worst in the world. Please! Please! Get off the fucking van!"

She made like she was throwing down the mike and tried to gather herself together. Her crew rushed forward to hug her and the others all clustered around to touch and thank her.

She was drained. Rung out spiritually. But she gathered herself together and said, "Now fucking get to sweating! I want more of you to get off my van and go home than Carlos or Monica get.

"I want more turnover and the highest throughput (I am a business major) than any of the other vans. Please do it. Do it for those that matter. But remember, you will never leave the van of my heart. I love you all.

"John. John, I need you to hold me. Please!" They moved aside as he wheeled towards her, locked the wheels, and stood up without thinking to hug her to himself. She snuggled right into his huge arms and chest. With eyes closed she never saw the amazed looks of the therapists or the knowing eyes of the Counselors.

When she picked them up at four, they were easily conversing with each other, laughing and very, very wet. "You guys really, really stink! Thank you. I'm very proud of you.

"If you all work really hard tomorrow and get these recently restored van seats wet on the way home, you will be able to enjoy one of Lady Katie's famous homemade dinners at John's humble abode at six o'clock. How does lasagna sound?"

At John's, "John? Do you mind if I come in for a bit. I know we're both worn out from today. You physically, me emotionally so I won't stay long. I'll make us a quick dinner. I have those frozen pizzas in the freezer and I could make a salad. How's that sound?"

"Anything, Katie."

She got it ready while he took a shower. They ate and after dinner snuggled on the couch in front of the TV. Her dreams of a romantic evening evaporated when within minutes he was asleep.

She remained enfolded by his arms, 'I could stay here forever', but soon snuck away from his grasp, rolled his legs up, and went to the bedroom to get a blanket and set his alarm clock.

Then off to the store to get her supplies for tomorrow.

TUESDAY

When she dropped her squad off at rehab, they were laughing and carrying on. Apparently a number of them had played cards together the night before and were giving each other crap about winning and losing. Talking about Monday Night Football and the usual stuff, they were much more animated than last week. It made her happy.

She gave them a half hour then went inside to check on them. Everything stopped when she walked in, then someone started saying, "Shorty! Shorty! Shorty!" Pretty soon everyone had picked it up.

She turned red as a beet. The Counselors came out again. Carlos and Monica were also there to see what the heck was going on. She gave it a minute, then curtsied like a princess and held up her hands for silence.

"Thank you very much. YOU! ARE! ALL! ASSHOLES! I thought it was just my squad. But I was wrong. Now where is my darling Christopher?"

"Oh, Christopher," she said in a siren's voice. "Come out here. Front and center. Quit fucking hiding from me! I wore something special for you."

"Here, Ma'am."

"Soldier I have a tough assignment for you." She spun around then back again. "Check out my booty in these britches. I had to sneak out of my stinking house so my mom wouldn't catch me.

"So, I repeat yesterday's question. Christopher, Christopher on the wall. Who has the finest ass of all? The oh so lovely black haired Monica? Or me, your bleach blonde but still wonderful Katie?" Monica colored, but had a smile on her face.

"Meaning no respect, Ma'am. But I checked out Monica's this morning as she got on the bus and it was very, very nice. To be fair, I think I need another look at yours just to make sure."

Katie cracked up and ran forward, hugged him, and gave him a lips only kiss. "You are a jerk, you know that Christopher? But you cracked me up. You are too normal to be here. Please work hard and go home. Please!"

She backed away across the room to her squad. "Can't see my ass, can you Christopher? I have taken away your ass viewing privileges. AND THAT GOES FOR THE REST OF YOU TOO! I'm back to those damn Mom jeans tomorrow. You'll have to look at Monica's."

"Now get back to work. I have to check on my guys." With that said she pulled out a thick collapsible rod and expanded it. All eyes were on her.

"Now I don't want to use this, but if I don't see enough sweat..." they all laughed and showed her how they were already sweating. "Darn. And I was so hoping I could try this little baby out. Well, maybe the next group. Or," pivoting towards the other van groups, "maybe someone over here is not working hard enough!" They all smiled and went back to their therapies.

She walked sideways over to Monica who still had a smirk on her face, keeping her rear facing away from Christopher, but then turned and gave her a hug. "I'm sorry to drag you into this, Monica. It just sort of happened."

Monica laughed. "It's fine, Katie. Never imagined I was going to be in an ass comparison today, but, hey, could be worse. Whatever you're doing is really making a difference. Can I have coffee with you and talk about it?"

"Sure. That'd be fun. In fact, I'm having a get together for my guys on Saturday. It was going to be just for them, but I think I'm going to invite all three vans if I can use the club house. Why don't you come?"

"Love to. Keep me posted. But let's have the coffee before then. We should bring Carlos too."

As she walked out, she stopped by the head Counselor's office. "Hi, I'm Katie Walker."

"I know. Hell everybody knows."

"I'm sorry. What I've said and done is probably way out of bounds and all wrong. I mean, I have no training. I apologize if I'm screwing things up, but it just felt right."

"No, Katie. It was brilliant! Where did you get the idea to recreate the squad structure and Band of Brothers to help each other idea?"

"So, the boys have been squealing on me, eh? I don't know. Guys always seem to have this tribal thing going on. Sports, Boy Scouts, fraternities, the military. Doesn't matter. They're always part of a group identity.

"They get hurt, and just when they need it the most they are ripped out of it and shipped out to fend for themselves. These guys didn't even know each other's names when I started and they'd already been together two weeks before I got here.

"They went home alone and never did anything. Heck, John Roberts didn't have a TV or anything. I think he just stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep.

"So I figured the closest thing it must have been like for them was football training. You work your ass off together and get physically tired. The exercise is a shared misery. But then you spend the evening together. If something is going wrong or off track, your buds are there to help. I don't know, it just felt right.

"I visit with each one, we talk about tough subjects. I have talked to their loved ones and shared their fears back and forth. yes, i got the forms signed. And I encourage them to talk to each other, as they would have done over there. They are the ones that understand best what the others have been through.

"So what about the Shorty Walker persona?"

"Again, just felt right. Look. I my brothers are older and both well over six foot. Tough as nails, but they both new that their little tiny sister would not eat any of their crap and wouldn't tolerate their macho stuff. A no fear sort of approach.

"They never knew what to do with me so they would do whatever I wanted. Worked well with them. Thought it might work with these guys as well. So, no research or planning. Just a feel and it seemed right.

"But I am also setting up social stuff. There's a group dinner tonight. I'm planning a big get together on Saturday and I may invite the other two squads, if they show me how hard they're working. I've invited a number of my girlfriends so the guys can practice their social skills and realize that despite the missing parts, pretty girls still see them as men. I don't know, I'm just kinda playing it by ear.

"It scares me to death because sure as heck, I'm going to screw it up big time. Like the fight last Monday. I completely messed up, there. Not my proudest moment."

"Well, no, you really didn't," said the Counselor. "They saw that you were like the mother lioness protecting her young, but then you apologized and demonstrated you were human."

"God. You guys gossip like a bunch of old women. There are no secrets are there? You know, I went to the hospital to apologize to that guy, too. I had a card, some flowers, tickets to a game. But he wouldn't see me."

"How'd you learn how to do that? That king fu stuff?"

"I was always so small...When i was in high school a couple of guys I didn't know decided they would stuff me in their car and take off with me. My brothers were both wrestlers so I used a few moves and got away.

"But promised myself it would never happen again. I needed some offense. Not just defense. So six years of a hodgepodge of mixed martial arts and yoga and here I am.

"What I'd really like to do is set up some visits with loved ones in some sort of safe place. If a spouse or loved one comes here, they are tied at the hip for the duration. If these guys are discharged and go home, it's full immersion with no breaks.

"Maybe if we set it up to start with a short visit. A dinner, an afternoon outing. If it's going well it could be extended. If there's a rough patch, they can separate and regroup later. Like John and I after the fight."