The memory
I saw understanding dawn on her face.
« The attack on the logistics depot. 2019. »
« Yes, Sergeant. »
Everyone knew about the attack. Mortars, a fire, a warehouse in flames. Twelve dead. Twenty-three injured. And a civilian logistics coordinator, Emma Torres, who had returned three times to the burning building to extract the injured before the roof collapsed.
I was that coordinator.
« You removed six people. »
« Five, Sergeant. The sixth didn’t survive. »
He stepped back, pale, unsettled for the first time since I had known him.
« Break off training. Everyone to the barracks. »
The group slowly dispersed. Then:
« Torres. My office. Immediately. »
The office
In his austere office, Crawford looked at me for a long time.
« Why have you never spoken about it? »
« Because it’s not relevant to my service here, Sergeant. »
« You saved lives under fire. That’s relevant. »
I shook my head. « I didn’t want to be a heroic story. I wanted to be a Marine like any other. »
He sighed. « I misjudged you. I thought you were hiding a weakness. In reality, you were hiding a strength that few possess. »
He offered me a special recommendation. I refused.
« I want to succeed or fail for who I am today, not for what I did before. »
He accepted, but not without adding that he would ensure that my skills were used intelligently in the future.
Before I left, he added:
« Thank you for your service. In Kabul. And here. »
In retrospect
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