The Necessary Veil

By Henri Duffy

Two veterans, retiring under very different circumstances, return home after multiple overseas assignments. They find a country very different from the one they thought they were serving. Their respective journeys of readjustment and search for meaning and purpose in civilian life bring them together in ways they never imagined on a mission they had never envisioned.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Henri Duffy
• Release date: Mar 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463008812

Henri Duffy

Henri Duffy has led a very active professional life. He spent 20 years in the military as an active duty and reserve naval officer; and another 20 in higher education as a faculty member, dean, vice-president, and president. He has also led a Chamber of Commerce and served as a senior manager in state government.Currently he lives in the northwest near the ocean with his wife, cat, and dog. He sees the ocean every day and chases fish when the weather is nice and occasionally catches one or two.As you can see, he isn't much for having his picture published.

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Chapter 1

Captain Valerie Valentine Vale, USA

The ever-present organized anarchy of the military in action was in full force. People in heavy gear, moving heavy gear about, seemingly without purpose. Vehicles being loaded, gear double checked, checklists being checked off, orders given and sometimes followed. Dust moving, flowing, covering everything.

You ‘bout ready cap?

Don’t get your thong in a twist, sergeant, said Captain Valerie Valentine Vale.

I follow your lead ma’am, only granny panties for me.

They’re the only way you’d be able to exhibit the appropriate number of stripes and other hash marks fitting for your exalted rank, status, and state of personal hygiene, said the smiling captain. She was glad of the ability to have some repartee with her Sergeant First Class. She knew of men in her position who hadn’t developed the same relationship she had with some of her enlisted people.

You got the map and an alternate route? she asked.

Yes ma’am. I also heard that you were on the list for major. Congratulations.

Thanks, I think, even a blind squirrel and all that. Okay, let’s mount up, she said.

Four soldiers plus her sergeant, all in full combat gear, piled into the Stryker ICV simultaneously, making the entrance a tad awkward. Civilians would laugh out loud; the soldiers only cursed and shook their heads. Captain Vale, also in full combat gear, which did nothing to show her gender, climbed into the traditional passenger seat while the sergeant got in behind the driver who was waiting on all of them to get settled in.

You all know that we’re going to a small village to talk to the headman’s wife. She’s apparently decided to provide us some information about a few of the local resistance leaders, which’ll make our stay in this newly found Afghani tourist spot all the more enjoyable. Two of her sons are dead at their hands and her husband has been wounded so badly he will never be able to provide for the family again. Vale stopped for effect. Should be a quick and easy trip, but stay alert, don’t take anything for granted, we all want to go home in the same condition we arrived. Sergeant, weapons check.

Brown went through the check, all accounted for, serviceable, and ready for use.

Let’s go, Vale told the driver. Commanding a small detachment of the intelligence battalion they were all a part of to get the information the headman’s woman was offering, she was ready to get this done. Vale was fluent in several languages including Farsi, known as Dari in Afghanistan. She had been outside the wire before on several other short missions to interrogate a local, or to provide translation services for others. This wasn’t her first rodeo.

Her fluency came from a demonstrated gift for languages. Majoring in Middle Eastern Studies in College she could speak Farsi, Arabic, and Hindi fluently; could get by in any of the Romance languages having minored in those; and could make herself understood in Japanese thanks to her being stationed there for a time.

The troops respected her not for her linguistic ability, but for her ability to kick their respective butts. There had been some mumbling about a woman in a war zone and having to take care of her, particularly when she was as good looking as Vale. She challenged a couple to a one-on-one fight, supervised in pads. They took her up on it; how often were you invited to rough up your captain?

The first two lasted less than a minute each. She parried all of their launched blows and quickly put each of them on the deck without hurting them. A third came forward who had some knowledge of the martial arts; he let her know he was a brown belt. While it took her a little longer to deal with him, he never laid a hand on her.

Only after the third soldier was on the floor did she tell them that she had black belts in aikido, kendo, and karate. She explained that as a child her parents made sure she knew how to protect herself and she enjoyed the exercise.

She didn’t tell them that she had always been small as a child and her parents were worried about her being able to protect herself because of her diminutive stature. It wasn’t until her late teens that she had experienced a growth spurt; during her last two years of high school she grew a little over nine inches to her current height of six feet and one-half inch.

She was still slender and the army’s physical requirements helped her stay that way. She was naturally pretty. Her eyes consisted of an iris of light green surrounding a nearly golden inner circle around an obsidian bull’s eye. The captain had a darker shade of strawberry blonde hair punctuating and framing a symmetrical face with high cheekbones, a strong chin, and a soft complexion. Out of uniform she was very pretty, in uniform she was just pretty.

The trip out went fine. Bumpy road, scenery they had all seen too many times before, more dust, but no issues with anyone or anything. Arrival as planned. Wife available. The driver radioed their base to let them know they had arrived. Vale drew up the scarf she had been wearing to cover her face, to make her more like the Muslim woman she’d be talking to.

The headman’s wife was very frightened but appeared to have had enough of the constant violence and killing, which had prompted her to give up several local leaders to the American military. She lived in a small desolate village where Vale and her troops saw no one else.

Literally, no one else.

The total lack of people including children spooked her sergeant who sent out two short patrols while Vale spoke to the woman. The men found nothing, not even animals.

After twenty minutes of patrolling the area Sergeant Brown went into the room where Vale was conducting her interview. Cap, sumpin’ ain’t right here. No people, no animals, no nothin’. I highly recommend we get the hell outta here.

Get the men in the vehicle, I’ll be out in five, she said without diverting her attention from the woman. She was done in less than that, thanked the woman for speaking to her, and walked briskly to the truck which was already running.

You’re right sergeant, there’s something weird here. Take an alternate route outta here, let’s not retrace our steps.

Yes, ma’am. Brown gave the driver a set of directions and they departed the village. Vale called the base on the truck’s radio to let them know what they were doing and why.

All of them were highly attentive to everything around them; the road, rocks, ditches, anything that seemed out of place or could conceal something dangerous. The heat and the stress of an unusual environment had them all sweating profusely under the multiple layers of gear and uniform. Vale was glad that she was not a large busted woman with all the boob sweat that would accompany that condition. It was bad enough sweating all the time when the weather was hot, and everyone just wore t-shirts, but being female sometimes added to the discomfort through anatomy.

You know sergeant, there wasn’t much she told me that we didn’t already know. A little, but not enough to make any real difference in how we’re going to do business.

After a moment of thought, Brown responded, You think somethin’s up?

I do. You?

Most definitely, ma’am. I think you made a good choice going out a different way than how we came in.

You been this way before?

No ma’am. Anyone been down this road before? he asked the others. No one had. The map showed them that the road they were on would come to a more well-travelled and better controlled route in roughly ten miles and adding maybe fifteen to their trip.

Five miles later, about three from the main route, the road they were on narrowed and dog legged around a large hill where they found themselves confronted with a large boulder in the road. They stopped about ten feet from the obstruction. On the left side was a very steep hill, too steep to see the top from where they were inside the truck, the other was a rock-strewn gully six to twelve feet deep. They couldn’t drive around the boulder.

Looks like a rockslide, said one of the men in the back.

Just one rock? asked Sergeant Brown.

Let base know where we are and what we’re doing, Vale told the driver.

We’re getting out, spreading out, and then we’ll figure it out, she told her men. Get out and spread out. Sergeant with me, she ordered.

The driver was calling base as the others opened the doors when an RPG came streaking down the hill and struck the truck on the rear left wheel. The noise generated by the close detonation partially deafened the soldiers and shocked them. The noise was heard by the operators at the base, the subsequent cursing was not as the radio was destroyed.

Thankfully a body in motion tends to stay in motion; the ordinance helped generate more movement for those already starting to leave the vehicle. The explosion threw those in the act of exiting the truck further away from the vehicle. The driver, Vale, Brown and two other troops were alive but stunned with thrumming ears. The other two men were killed mercifully quickly in the fire that came in the immediate aftermath of the explosion.

Vale was quick enough to grab the man who came out the door behind her and steer him behind the boulder blocking the road. Brown gathered up the others and got to the other side of the burning vehicle and into the gully about twenty feet from Vale.

Another RPG came down the hill and completely demolished the already ruined Stryker. Several men firing weapons at the burning vehicle followed the second RPG down the hill. At the same time, several men who had been concealed in the gully’s rubble made their presence known by firing on Vale’s position.

The soldier she had brought behind the boulder was quickly killed by the incoming gun fire. Vale grabbed his weapon and ducked around the boulder in the road as much as she could in an attempt to avoid fire from both above and below. Brown and those with him, returned fire on the gully’s occupants. Vale fired up the hill in short controlled bursts.

Captain Vale was able to take down three of the men running down the hill before another RPG aimed at her missed but struck close enough and caught enough of the boulder to send her flying backwards and peppering her with rock shards which produced bloody arms and legs. Her landing was jarring enough to loosen her grip on her weapon. The second detonation so close to her made the captain temporarily deaf.

She was able to get back up quickly as several men were nearly upon her. She didn’t know if they were from the gully or the hill. It didn’t matter.

When they reached her, she evaded by moving around the now slightly smaller boulder. She was able to engage those who got close enough to her, and after inflicting a broken elbow and two broken noses on those who got within Vale’s reach, the remainder of the small force stood off from her.

Meanwhile, her men had been outflanked by another part of the contingent running down the hill and were forced to surrender. Brown and one other soldier had survived. Both were wounded.

Vale decided to surrender as well. She was not happy. What was supposed to be a routine questioning had turned into a soup sandwich, just a sloppy mess.

The Afghans herded the three Americas together, surrounded them, and quickly gun butted them, knocking the soldiers out.

The three awoke to splitting head aches and the sad realization that while they had been captured the rest of their group was dead. Their weapons had been taken, along with their uniforms, body armor, and everything else they had been carrying.

The men were tied to cheap chairs, hands tied under the seat, elbows behind the chair back, ankles to the chair legs, and stripped to their boxers. Vale had each limb tied to the corner of a small cheap wire bed spread eagle, no mattress, wearing only a set of brief panties. She was so tall that her hands and feet extended past the ends of what was apparently a child’s bed. None were gagged.

The room they were in was large enough for all three of them, the bed, a table, and two more chairs for their captors. The walls were bare. The windows allowed in sufficient light so that the captives had an unobstructed view of the room through the dusty air depending on their vantage point. Shadows were growing long through the window.

Representatives of the ambush party were not in the room. For the moment the Americans were alone. Only their breathing disturbed the near total silence.

Brown was the first to break the silence, Permission to speak freely ma’am, he said quietly.

Sure, why not, she responded. She could hear him through a light ringing in her ears.

Well, cap, seeing as I can see you, I just want you to know you’re a damn fine-looking woman, the several bloody holes in your arms and legs taken into account, he said softly.

Vale craned her neck from her supine position to look in his direction as best as she could. You don’t look to bad yourself sergeant. She had spoken equally as softly. Moving her head caused some mild nausea.

Have you two lost your fucking minds? the third soldier nearly shouted in the silence. "We’re here, nearly naked, most likely gonna get tortured and killed, and you two are checking each other out.

Look, said Vale in a normal tone of voice, they only did this to make us feel vulnerable. It’s how they do business. They want to terrorize us. Keep your head, don’t let them get to you.

Brown added, Otherwise shut the fuck up. Cap, it looks like afternoon shadows, so we’ve probably been out for a couple of hours.

Vale didn’t respond but thought that any rescue, if it was going to happen, would go down relatively soon. They had radioed that they were stuck just before they had been attacked. Hopefully, they wouldn’t just send a truck and a driver. If any rescue didn’t happen soon it may as well not even come out into the hinterlands, the third soldier was probably right,. they would most likely be tortured and killed.

She did not respond to her sergeant because the man who appeared to be the boss of the operation entered the room with two others just after Brown spoke. The two others each bore old rifles.

We heard you talking. I am glad you are finally awake. My name is Omar bin Zafied and your fate now rests with me. You all seem to be under-dressed, so unlike Americans. That’s okay.

Your English is very good, said Vale. Were you educated in England? I detect a hint of an accent.

Be quiet woman, Zafied spat. "I was educated in both England and the United States. I even attended Columbia for a time. I was celebrated there as the wonderful Afghani who was trying to make the world better by attending college. Pfffftt.

I know how corrupt and moronic your culture is. You should also know my men wanted to take you even as you were unconscious. I told them that you were really a man who had wanted to become a woman and would infect them if they penetrated you.

And they believed you?

They are just farmers, dissatisfied farmers, but just farmers. They have never been more than one hundred miles from here. Your height and build convinced them that you might just be a man in a woman’s body. Only Americans would allow someone like that to lead their troops. All they know is that the Russians were here and left, now you are here, and you will leave too. They only want to tend their fields and be left alone.

The third soldier asked, What do you want?

Zafied snapped his fingers and pointed at the man who had spoken. Both of the men he entered the room with shot the third American soldier in the head. Brains, blood, bone, and a small divot from one of the bullets transiting his head marred the wall behind where he had been restrained. The second bullet went out the window after passing through what was left of his skull.

Zafied continued, I want some revenge, some satisfaction, and some payback. I want all of you gone from here. I want your culture to understand that it has strayed and is weak and has no business here. Who else would send women to fight its wars? You are also stupid thinking that we would give you anything. That farm woman was told exactly what to tell you or we would take care of the remainder of her family.

He paused to breathe and collect his thoughts. The waning afternoon sun caught dust motes drifting in from the outside through the open window, as if a breeze had arrived or some other small disturbance stirred the air. I am not going to rape you or violate you, captain. Yes, I know your ranking system. But you will never show your face in public again. He turned to Brown and said to him, And you will not be able to have children.

He took a shemagh, one of the scarves taken from his captives, and held it up. You think you are so great, but you have to use something we have had for generations and think that you have invented it and make it a fashion statement. He took a small can from one of the men who came in with him and poured its contents onto the shemagh.

The Americans recognized the odor of kerosene; the shemagh now reeked of it. He dropped it across Vale’s neck and face up to her nose. She thought she might pass out just from the fumes.

So this shows how superior your culture is? You’ll burn a nearly naked woman tied to a bed, said Brown.

No, said Vale through the stench of the fuel after she had spat the shemagh from the area of her mouth. It shows how smart they are because they know if they untied me I’d kick all of their asses seven ways from Sunday.

Zafied took out a Zippo lighter with his right hand and flicked the wheel against the flint igniting the wick. While holding the lighter he used his left hand to take out a large knife from behind his back.

This, he said nodding at the lighter, is for her. This, he waved the knife at Brown, is for you.

I think there is a certain irony here, Zafied opined. You come and kill husbands in our countries making it more difficult for women to have children, but I get to castrate you, making it impossible for you to have children, he said smiling at Brown. You do not want our women covering their faces, but you, he looked at Vale, will never go out without a niqab from this day forward.

As he chuckled at the situation, four large men in full combat gear came through the door with weapons trained on the three Afghanis, a fifth soldier stood by the window aiming his weapon at Zafied. Zafied made a movement with the knife and all five soldiers fired at the three Afghans, killing them instantly.

Zafied dropped his still burning lighter next to the bed Vale was tied to.

Get that fucking lighter away from her. The scarf is soaked in kerosene, shouted Brown.

The closest rescuer moved as quickly as he could, but the lighter’s flame caught a drooping edge of the soaked shemagh which seemingly ignited all at once.

Vale screamed and writhed on the springs and bed frame. Flames engulfed her throat giving her a fiery collar. Part of her hair also caught on fire. For a few seconds she looked like something from a bad horror movie.

The rescuer pulled the shemagh from the burning woman within seconds, but the kerosene, having sat on her for more than a few seconds, had soaked through the rag onto her skin which continued to burn until it was extinguished by the scarf of a second fast moving rescuer.

****

Sergeant Brown was lucky and recovered from his physical wounds quickly. The bullets that wounded him had damaged soft tissue, missing bone and any vital organs.

Even though the rescuers had acted quickly, Captain Vale experienced second degree burns, bordering on third degree around her neck and shoulders. The associated scarring ran from her collar bones in front, around the circumference of her neck, and up under her chin and jaw in front. The back of her neck where her hair had ignited was also scarred but was much less visible being hidden by her hair as it grew out fully. Her neck was now just a large scar connecting her head to the rest of her body. The tops of her shoulders bore testament to her torture. She also had multiple wounds on her arms and legs from the rock shrapnel which were far less problematic.

After a week in the hospital and intense debriefing, Vale was shipped to Germany where she was able to undergo better treatment for the scarring and contracture caused by her burns as well as the pain.

She suffered weeks of severe thirst, chronic fatigue, and a very slow healing process before someone thought to check for diabetes. An unexpected outcome of the ordeal was that she was diagnosed with that malady after she was tested. The physicians were unsure as to why the disease manifested itself at that time; maybe the stress placed upon her body by her capture, maybe just one of those things; diabetes is not uncommon after surgery. They had difficulty in regulating Vale’s blood sugar for some time.

She stayed in the hospital but was allowed to go out on base as she needed to once her blood sugar level was able to be somewhat controlled, it took a week or two to get to that point. Vale spent a good portion of that time reflecting on what had happened, what Zafied had said, and her current situation. It took weeks before she could get her temper under control. She had no visitors and declined to see a counselor.

She was angry with herself for not seeing the situation in the village for what it was; a set up. She and her men should have hauled ass out of there within minutes. Valerie was also angry with Zafied but soon got over that. The Americans were essentially doing the same thing to him and those he was with. Turnabout is fair play. She remained angry with herself though; what happened was her failure to act promptly and appropriately. She was particularly upset about losing the men on that trip. They had lost their lives because of her actions or inactions.

After a month in Germany she was visited by a colonel. He told her that her options were few. Because she had been diagnosed with diabetes, and was now required to take insulin shots occasionally, she would most likely be discharged from the army for medical reasons. Combined with her burns she would be retired on a disability.

She could seek a waiver to remain in the army, but that was not a cut and dried process. She would have to plead her case and convince a panel that she should stay. He told her that she would be discharged from the hospital in two weeks and should have her waiver material ready, assuming she was going to submit a waiver, by the time she was to be sent home on leave. He left her his card and asked that she call him before she departed on leave.

The next day another colonel came to see her and awarded her the Prisoner of War Medal, the Purple Heart for being wounded in action, a Combat Action Badge, and the Bronze Star medal for bravery under fire and efforts to save the members of her patrol. He had photographers with him, but she asked to not have any photos taken of her. They complied with her wish. She felt neither heroic nor photogenic.

Vale asked about Sergeant Brown; she had written to him, but he had not responded. Vale had also recommended him for a Bronze Star. She was told that he had been awarded the medal based on her recommendation as well as the other decorations that she had received other than the Combat Action Badge which he had already received.

He had returned with the unit but was not functioning well. Apparently, he blamed himself for not alerting her sooner. If he didn’t improve he’d most likely get a ticket state-side soon. There was plenty of blame to go around.

Vale read the regulations and started to work on her waiver request. She wanted to remain in the army. She thought that she had done a good job and wanted to continue protecting those who could not protect themselves, like the woman she interviewed in Afghanistan.

After a month in the hospital Vale was starting to go a little stir-crazy. She had not been allowed to exercise; no running, no martial arts practice, nothing more strenuous than a walk inside the hospital along the pea green corridors of the sick and wounded. Sweat was the enemy of her neck until the area healed over completely. Any sweat left unattended would be a breeding ground for bacteria and potential infection.

She was ready to climb the walls when the doctors allowed her to start walking outside around the base. She still had to keep her neck covered though until the skin was thoroughly healed. The lack of strenuous activity wore heavily on her. Vale did not feel as well as she thought she would.