Freedom of Love (Letter From Home #2)(4)



“So you see, we have the excess books and the soldiers need them.” Shrugging slightly, I added, “I’d really like to work on this.”

“Molly, I think it’s a brilliant project,” Susan agreed, her enthusiasm settling over me as acceptance. “And I feel so strongly about it, I’ll make sure the books are carried to the Army base to be sent overseas.”

Feeling the air leave my lungs in a whoosh, I grinned. “Thank you,” I gushed, pleased to have chosen a project, near and dear to my heart, that was so readily accepted. “When can I start?”

“I have to get it approved by the Warden, which won’t be a problem. And then I’ll inform Ms. Purdue. So give it a few days and then you’re in business.”

As I walked back to my room, now filled with a sense of purpose, I breathed lighter than I had in months.





Chapter 2




(February – Brody)


“Medevac! Medevac! Medevac!”

Jumping up from the old sofa in the command center, I ran through the door with the other seven members of the team, our boots pounding the floor almost in unison. Cases of medicine and weapons were grabbed as we exited, each knowing just what to carry. Medics and pilots raced toward the helicopters as other traffic came to a stop, allowing us to pass uninhibited. It was only a quarter-mile from our command post to the airfield, but we sprinted to the aircraft knowing every second counted. The cold wind slapped at our faces, stinging our cheeks. I knew the bird would offer very little warmth, but hoped that for the first part of the flight, we would be able to keep the wind off us.

Jumping inside, I buckled on my flight vest just as the pilot engaged the auxiliary power unit and the huge General Electric T-700 turbine engines began to roar. In just a moment, the 54-feet of rotor blades rotated, drowning out everything except the sound of radio calls in my headset. I mentally went through my checklist, attempting to prepare for what we were about to head into. The only thing we knew about this mission was that we’d be picking up a victim of an IED blast near a small combat outpost. Fuck, I hate these. There’s no way of knowing the extent of the injuries, which could range from simple to near death for the soldier.

With the winds whipping outside, I trusted the pilot to get us there and back safely, so I began my prep work. Setting up IV bags, monitors, and bandages, I worked while being bounced around in the back. Used to the movements, I spread my legs apart to steady myself as we banked for a curve.

The pilot set the bird down on a small landing area and four soldiers ran while bending low under the whirling blades, carrying a stretcher. The side doors slid open, allowing the wind to blast through the helicopter, threatening to toss our materials around.

A soldier on the incoming stretcher was covered in blankets and bandages. Time for me to go to work. As the doors slid shut, the bird lifted into the air, banking sharply to the right as we headed back to base. With the dark interior of the helicopter hampering our vision, the light on our headgear was the only illumination for us to see what we were dealing with.

I placed my hands on the injured soldier’s chest, leaning over to reassure him. “We’re going to take care of you. You’re in good hands and we’re getting you to the hospital.”

I’ve got no idea if he can hear me or understand what I’m saying, but I do it every time. If there’s the least chance that this injured person in my care can hear that someone is helping them, then I’ll always take it. I got the IV line in, easily on the first stick, immediately pushing in pain meds, watching the patient slowly relax. Beginning the assessment, we worked efficiently, taking care of the immediate needs.

The pilot touched back down at the base with a little bump and one of the other medics slid open the door, allowing the wind to whip around us again. Six soldiers emerged from a nearby, concrete barrier wall and crouch-ran to the helicopter. It took a moment to maneuver the stretcher out of the bird and transfer over to their care. They placed the stretcher on the back of an open vehicle, the driver quickly shifting into gear and hurtling down the road to the hospital.

With him passed on to the hospital, I sat down for a moment to collect my thoughts. Dropping my chin to my chest, I sat in the back of the helicopter, attempting to shield my body from the cold wind. I did this ritual every time…just a moment to let the adrenaline slow down in my body and to remind myself that he or she made it safely to the hospital care. Scrubbing my hand over my face, I stood and methodically collected the wrappers and plastic caps littering the cabin floor. The crew worked to get ready for the next mission while the pilots went through the process to shut down the bird. While we readied the inside, the airfield crew immediately began their service of the helicopter to make sure it was flight ready.

We repacked the equipment, sticking it anywhere it fit in the helicopter cabin in preparation for the next call. Finally finished, we jogged back to the Dustoff building that served as a combination command post, lounge, office, operations center and storage facility. Appreciating the warmth of the building, I headed into the lounge first, stripping off my blood spattered Army Combat Uniform shirt tossing it in the special laundry bin. Pulling on a clean one, I bypassed the lounge sofa and headed to the row of metal desks in the center. Sitting down, I pulled out a form from the files on the desk. Not my favorite chore, it was time to write the reports and wait for the next call. Sighing heavily, I found both comfort and fatigue in the routine.

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