The Maroon Beret

-Sean-
“I’m her fiancee.” I respond quickly to the voice on the other line. The panic in my voice is evident, as Brayden shoots up from his bed. He turns on the light and stares at me, fear in his eyes.

“Please hold while I transfer your call.”

‘I don’t want to fucking hold. Tell me why the fuck you’re calling me!’ I want to scream.

Brayden motions for me to put the call on speaker and I do just as another voice comes on the line. This time it’s a man’s voice, and I can tell he’s much older than the last person. “Am I speaking with the emergency contact for Senior Airman Charlotte Coleman?” He asks.
“Yes. I’m her fiancee.” I respond, my voice shaking.
Brayden reaches for his phone and begins furiously texting someone.

“My name is Dr. Gwynn, and I’m one of the chief surgeons at the NATO hospital at the Kandahar Airfield here in Afghanistan. I regret to inform you that Senior Airman Coleman was severely injured in an accident earlier this afternoon. From what we have been told, she was responding to a evacuation call when a member of the Taliban infiltrated the area and set off a suicide bomb. She is currently in critical condition, but we are confident that she will pull through.”

I can’t move. The only thing I’m aware of are the tears streaming down my face.

“Since you are listed as her emergency contact, I can list all of her injuries for you, if you’d like.” He suggests. I can hear the pity in his voice. This isn’t easy for him.

Brayden takes the phone from my hand.
“Hi Dr. Gwynn, I’m Sean’s friend. He’s currently kinda not moving at all, but I know he wants to know the specifics of her injuries. Even though I’m not sure if he’s processing anything right now.”

The man sighs. “I’m not really supposed to tell anyone except the emergency contact person without direct consent from the patient...” He pauses. “But if you can get him to acknowledge my question and he’s in the room, I will list them.”

Brayden looks at me.
“Sean you gotta just say yes, man.” he says. I try, but I feel like I’m paralyzed. I slightly nod my head.
“He’s nodding his head. Is that enough?” Brayden asks.
“I’m sorry, but I have to have a verbal agreement.”

Pull it together, Couturier.
“Y-yes.” I manage to squeak out.

He begins listing the things wrong with my Charlie, and I feel like my world is caving in.

She has shrapnel wounds all over her arms, legs and face. She has multiple broken bones along her entire right side where she apparently slammed into a cinderblock wall: her ankle, knee, hip, arm, and shoulder are all affected. Her helmet saved her from getting her skull smashed in, though she does have minor swelling in her brain from the impact. There are hairline fractures all throughout her vertebrae, but fortunately no spinal cord damage. At least, not that they know of. They can’t tell for sure because she’s in a coma due to the swelling. Although they say it isn’t severe, and they think she should be waking up in a couple of days.

He saves the biggest injury for last, and by this point I feel like I’m going to throw up.

A large piece of shrapnel about the size of a dinner plate found its way into her lower left leg. That, combined with the impact of the forces from the explosion, left it untreatable.

They had to amputate her leg at the knee.

That’s when I lose it. I rush to the bathroom and make it to the toilet just in time to empty the contents of my stomach. I heave over and over again until there’s nothing coming up. And then I heave some more.

When my stomach finally stops lurching, I collapse to the cold floor and start to cry. By this point, Brayden has alerted coach, doc and Giroux, who are all standing in our hotel room. They help me stand and guide me back to my bed.

“Do you want to talk or do you want to go to sleep? I can give you some medicine that will knock you out for a while.” Doc asks.

I want to get knocked out forever.

I just hold out my hand and he places a small white pill in it. I throw it back and take the glass of water Giroux hands me, draining the entire thing.

I look at Brayden and finally find some words.
“What do I do now?” I ask.
“WE will do whatever we have to.” He says.

I close my eyes and let the medicine work it’s way over me.

Notes