Un-betad
Characters aren't mine, that is all.
Word Prompt: Stomp
Word Prompt: Stomp
The next day came and went in any other normal fashion until the phone rang. Only it wasn't Edward, it was my mom. She had beaten Cynthia by a matter of minutes to inform me that there had been an incident and a blackout was occurring as a result. Cynthia claimed that she didn't have any details, but I knew that was because she couldn't talk. However, my mom could, and did. Three soldiers were dead, and though she didn't have names, she did know it was caused by a mortar attack.
My heart sank realizing that not only would I not hear from Edward, but I also had a call down to make. I saved the Cullen's for the last and was happy when it was Esme who answered the phone.
"Hello, Bella," she greeted me cheerfully.
"Hey, I wanted to let you know our unit is on another black out," I informed her as professionally as I could.
"Oh no, you don't think…" her voice trailed off, but I quickly corrected that.
"If no one has shown up at your door yet, it's not Edward. You would have already known by now, and, at this point, I don't even know who it is," I reassured her, but I could still hear her breathing through the phone.
"Those poor boys," she muttered mellower than she was when she answered. "Well, thank you for calling to let us know. If you hear from Edward, let us know, okay?"
"Of course, I'm sure he'll call as soon as he can," I said before hanging up.
On day two, I hadn't expected a call at all. Three soldiers with three different families to locate meant the potential for a longer blackout.
On day three, I was hopeful, but the call never came.
On day four, it was announced that the blackout was still in effect and even my mom agreed that that was odd.
On day five, I begrudging went to Austin Peay to finish up all the paperwork for my classes. I bought my books, too, but none of it seemed to matter since my cell phone stayed mute.
By day six, I figured my mom wanted to kill me. I was a pacing wreck, which only sent me overboard when Cynthia called to tell me about another incident. This time, it involved two soldiers; one KIA and one injured. She could tell me the injured soldier was kept local, and his family would not be notified because the extent of the injuries didn't warrant a phone call, but she still didn't have names.
So, the process started all over again. Another family to find, more time to wait, just to get a call on day ten that we had a third incident. By the point, my dad had managed a phone call home. He refused to give my mother a lot of information, and at that point I knew something was wrong. My dad didn't hold information unless he had to, but he did say they were on a higher level of alert. They believed they had a spy because the mortar attacks were getting a little too precise.
When the blackout should have been lifted, Cynthia would stomp my heart out with another call down to do. This went on for an entire month. I had started classes, but my heart wasn't in them. I lied when I said I took fluff courses, but they were still relatively easy. The FRG began meeting every few days, though they weren't meeting, but instead social events. We'd all meet for coffee, or lunch, or dinner, and sometimes even breakfast. At first, everyone came, but then the numbers started to drop. Slowly, but surely, a few wives I had come to know and like had disappeared, and I knew. Our care team wasn't called up, which we knew would happen, but we still offered support as best as we could. Every night, I'd cry myself to asleep completely scared not just for Edward, but for my dad. I knew they were now on the same base, our troops were shifting because of this threat and security was ramped up. Normally, they'd keep my dad away from this type of action, but he wouldn't have that. By the way my mom spoke, he was preparing for a full frontal attack, they didn't know when but they just knew it was coming.
It took approximately one month and four days for Edward to call. He managed to catch me right between the post memorials and the reception. That night, the memorial honored the lives of thirteen men and two women just from our company. That didn't include the eight other soldiers from our other brigades. It was the worst month for Fort Campbell soldiers yet.
I nearly dropped the phone when I saw the caller ID. I thought hearing Edward's voice would bring me the greatest comfort at all, until he told me he was calling from a medical facility in central Iraq.
Okay, before anyone shoots me, note I'll be doing a "Stomp" chapter from EPOV. Why? Because I can't explain what needs to be explained in the depth it needs to be explained from BPOV. She's much more emotional than Edward, and my husband and I just hashed out the most realistic situation l can write white while remaining within OPSEC. However, I can say this...I've lived the above, though not as many casualties and it happened within the last month of my husband's first deployment. They had gotten relatively lucky compared to the other brigades and then we had a spy, and then our motorpool got hit hard. It was the most nervous I had ever been, I can tell you that.
As far as a Fort Campbell Memorial, it's incredibly emotional. They do a service outside and then a reception inside with books to sign, pictures to see, and snacks and drinks. I attempted most of the memorials, but only one reception, and that was in support of a friend who lost her husband a month before he was supposed to come back home. At this point, my husband still had four more months, and let me tell you, watching what she went through was by far the most humbling experience of my life.
So, I'll be working on EPOV now...it may go up tonight, or it may not.