"I'm leaving for Iraq tomorrow morning."

The words were out of Raoul's mouth the moment Christine had picked up the phone and he silently cursed himself for being so blunt. But he had been caught off guard too; he'd barely been in the Navy three months when the US joined the Gulf War and only three hours later he was being shipped off to Iraq for Operation Desert Shield. He'd only just turned 18 in May.

The other end of the phone was quiet, except the initial gasp in response to his words that told him it was in fact Christine on the other end and not her guardian Mrs. Valerius whose voice was hoarse after years of smoking. Christine had a mild and beautiful voice that enchanted everyone. It had kept him afloat these last few months in the Navy; every time she picked up the phone for their weekly call, he instantly would stop clutching the receiver and relax.

He'd hoped he would get to see her again soon, but instead he was being shipped off to another country for God knows how long.

"Little Lotte?" He whispered the nickname her father had used when Raoul had first met the Daaés as a plucky 10 year old, jumping into the ocean after an old red scarf to impress the pretty blonde girl who owned it; it had worked and he'd even endeared himself to her father as well. He'd been a part of their tiny family ever since, though Christine had never been like a sister to him; she was the girl he planned to marry one day.

A shudder sounded from the receiver, the pain in it traveling directly from his ear to his heart. He knew her fear: that he would die, like her father had only six months ago. Raoul missed the old violinist every day. "It will only be for a few months," he assured her with a calmness he didn't quite feel, "the Coalition will quickly stop that bastard Saddam and then I'm coming home for good!"

He hadn't even wanted to join the Navy in the first place. The draft was abandoned in the 1970's which was the only reason that his father had been in the Navy; if Philbert de Chagny hadn't been drafted to the Navy, he wouldn't have insisted that both sons joined as well. His father claimed it was important for men to serve their country and now that Raoul was being shipped off to the Middle East, the old veteran was more proud of his youngest than ever. Raoul didn't dare disappoint him. The fact that Philippe had never been overseas as a marine was still a tender subject in the de Chagny household.

However, Raoul didn't feel ready for combat. And he certainly wasn't ready to leave Christine. He could hear her sob quietly on the other end and felt more despair than when he'd first been given the order.

"I don't want you to die," she finally managed to say between shuddering breaths, "I love you, Raoul." No matter how often he heard it, those words always made his heart beat faster. He knew that most people thought Christine was lucky to be in a relationship with a wealthy man from a good family, but to Raoul he was the lucky one; Christine was intelligent, beautiful and had the most magnificent voice he'd ever heard. When she finished high school (being a year younger than him), he would use his trust fund to ensure that she got into the best vocal program in the country. Her destiny, besides marrying him, was becoming a singer - a star - and he would do everything possible to make it happen.

"Don't worry, you won't get rid of me that easily," he joked, though it fell flat. An awkward pause followed. "Before you know it, I'll be back and out of the Navy. You'll finish high school and we'll begin our future. Together."

"Together," she whispered. It sounded like she'd stopped crying. "Will you write to me every week?" He could picture her smile from the words and imagined the sweet face, he knew so well, with new light in her blue eyes.

"Every day," he promised truthfully, "they can't stop me!" The Stone that had been sitting in his stomach for the last few hours finally seemed lighter. It would be alright. "I love you, you know that, right?"

"I know. And I love you." Her voice grew despondent; she knew it was time to say goodbye. "Please be safe, Raoul."

"I always am. Just focus on school until I get home. And you can ask Philippe for help if you need it, okay? I've told him to be there for you and he promised." He'd actually been very strict with his older brother, for once standing up for himself and for Christine. He knew his family didn't approve of their relationship, but he didn't care; if he had to go to war, they better treat her properly. Philippe had accepted this.

"Ok," Christine said hesitantly, obviously not believing that his brother could be nice. He was about to argue when a whistle sounded: it was time to gather outside.

"Chris, I have to go, but I promise to write all the time and to come home to you in one piece. I will get Philippe to send you the address for the base when I get there, okay?" He said quickly, nodding at his fellow marines as they passed him to go outside.

"I'll write to you too when I get the address. Take care, Raoul." She was crying again and he was reluctant to hang up. He wanted to flee this base, sweep Christine away to the sea side and live happily ever after.

But he had responsibilities. When I get back, he told himself. "I will, Little Lotte. Goodbye." He hung up on his crying girlfriend, rubbing his chest as though it would relieve the ache in his heart.

Somehow, he knew that Iraq would change his life; whether it was for the better or worse was remained to be seen.