A blast of hot air smacked me in the face as I headed off the plane. Six months earlier, we had once again said goodbye to our families and headed off to Fort Hood for training. But, as we headed off to the "Welcome to Hell" briefing, I knew that this wasn't going to be like training.

A quick roll call and the briefing began. Despite the useful information, which included topics on camel spiders and scorpions, my mind began to wander and I wondered why I was even here. D'OH! I thought I'm here because Soldier gets shot; Soldier needs Medic to take care of him.

If anyone to ask me how long the briefing lasted, I would have joked that it lasted my entire TOD in Iraq, but the truth is it was about two hours.

One of my fellow Combat Medics smiled as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Allan Shaver was a good guy, despite the cynicism. He was, like me, a Corporal, but with his attitude, he was often looked at as being a Sergeant First Class. He felt that the Army really lacked good leadership. "But, hell if I could do better." He'd say. But, no matter how cynical Allan Shaver got, there was no other Medic you wanted around. He knew his job and he did it well.

Both of us sighed heavy as we made our way to Camp Middle of Nowhere. When we arrived, it was obvious that we were in a war zone and the Camp was a favorite target. There were holes in the ground from where mortars hit. Up ahead, the hospital tent was buzzing with activity.

But, this was nothing new to me or Corporal Shaver. This was our second tour in Iraq. "Shit." He sighed. "At least the Army gave us a full goddamned month to get our heads cleared before shipping us back to this shithole." His cynical nature shone at its brightest.

I hopped out of the Humvee. "Are you saying, Shaver, that you're really ready for what we know is ahead?"

"Arlie, it don't matter if I think I'm ready or not. The Army says I am." He smiled as he turned into the males' tent.

I made my way to the ladies' tent and put my stuff on an empty cot. Tired and exhausted from jet lag, I wanted to simply lie down and catch some "ZZZ's", but the sirens warning of incoming mortar rounds kept me from my appointment with my cot.

Sirens blared loudly as I quickly put my Kevlar and flak jacket on. I could see Allan running to the hospital tent and I followed. One young medic, on his first tour in a war zone, nearly froze. Shaver practically scooped the kid up and continued running. Like most mortars, there were few injuries, but the two that we did see were severe.

Without hesitation, Shaver and I jumped right into help. "Shue, I need a clamp!" he yelled. I handed him a clamp and we rushed him into the tent. I looked at Shaver, who wiped some blood off his vest. "That was too young a kid to be here."

"Yeah." Both of us wanted to rest, but couldn't. This kid had shrapnel in his arm and this kid had a twisted ankle from running. As often as I could, I stole a glance Shaver's way. Despite his completely cynical nature to war, he was amazingly calm and kept his bedside manner.

If truth was told, I had a little crush on my fellow medic. There was something about him that I really enjoyed being around. His cynical nature sometimes tied in perfectly with humor and, despite the often morbid humor he displayed, he could be as funny as he was blunt.

With the injured now under control, Shaver and I headed off to the mess tent to enjoy the fine fine Army chow, which, if you could call Army chow fine, this was. The menu was pot roast, which Shaver lovingly called 'Iraqi special', with mashed potatoes and green beans and a small piece of chocolate cake, which looked like it had seen better days. Shaver, in his usual cynical mood, twirled that cake on his tray. "I think we could win this thing if we feed just this piece of shit to the Iraqi people."

I smiled. I hit my piece with my fork and nearly burst in laughter as it seemed to echo a huge thud. "Kind of reminds me of grade school."

Shaver bust out laughing. "Yeah, it does. I mean, they want us to eat healthy here, but they offer us asphalt for dessert. The Army needs some new ways of dealing with this whole be all you can be campaign."

I smirked. "That campaign was years ago. Now it's 'An Army of One'."

"Keep feeding this shit to the Army and it WILL be an Army of one." He laughed. Allan's laugh was always from his heart. He never laughed unless there was something to laugh about. It was never loud. It was always soft and contagious. It never took long for people to join in when Shaver started laughing and this was no exception.

"It's pretty bad, ain't it?" An older Solider to Shaver's left pointed out. "I've been in the Army for 13 fucking years and I think this is the same cake they gave us at Basic." He never cracked a smile; he only grinned. He looked up and excused himself.

Shaver just looked at me. "You think he's right? Has this cake been around 13 years?" He leaned closer and whispered as though he'd get in trouble for asking.

"Nah. Not for 13 years." I smiled back. If he had a reply, I certainly didn't hear it for I was too busy looking into his hazel eyes, trying to see if he really had a soul.

"Arlie? You there, girl?" Shaver waved his hand in front of my face.

I snapped out of my little fantasy about him and sat straight up. "Yeah, I'm here."

"Where you fantasizing about me again?" He smirked. Allan knew about my little crush on him. I never knew he did, but he knew. "Let me see if I can pin point this one. You need rescue breathing and..."

"Shut up, Shaver." I threw a green bean at him.

"Oh you know you love me." He tossed it back.

"I just have a crush. That's far from love, sweetie." I smirked at him. The relationship between Allan Shaver and I started in Fort Sam Houston, where we went to AIT School for medic. We bonded quicker than anyone else in our class and somehow, our orders had kept us in the same unit and we deployed. Most people thought there was more to our relationship than there really was because at Fort Riley, Shaver was my roommate.

He blew a kiss at me. "You know if you could fuck me, you would." He winked sarcastically.

"Would I?" I looked at the Soldier who had been sitting next to Shaver and nodded my head in his direction. "I think I'd fuck him before I fucked you, Shaver." I laughed.

"Ouch. Why don't you take your knife back?" He handed me an imaginary knife. He looked outside the tent and saw a Humvee drive up. "Well, what do you say we get back to work?"

I followed him out off the mess tent. "Hey, Shaver!"

He looked at me. "Yeah?"

"Nice ass!"