Characters:
Krista: Wife of a soldier in the Military
Shannon: Surgeon with the Military
Lalzari: Afghan Woman
Setting: A bare stage. Each character is in her own space.
Time: The present.
The slash / before a word, indicates where the next character starts speaking as well, creating an overlap in dialogue.
A glossary of acronyms and their pronunciations follows the script.
Lights come up on Shannon, occupying the centre stage area. She is doing hard-core bodyweight exercises. She is working hard. She is in wonderful physical condition, very lean, very strong. She is very focused on her exercises, eyes straight ahead, never showing fatigue. She could have an exercise mat on stage to use for appropriate exercises, as well as hand weights or other small exercise equipment.
Krista enters stage left and sits on her area of the stage. She is writing in a journal. She could have a stool, chair or cushion to sit on. She could be drinking wine in a glass, the bottle beside her/ or coffee, perhaps wrapped in a quilt.
Lalzari enters stage right. She is wearing a burqua. She bends down and picks up a crude rake, which is lying on the stage. She has difficulty bending down, as she is very pregnant. She has difficulty handling the rake, as her hands hurt her, but she puts it over her shoulder and continues to walk around in her area. At times she works in her field.
There is an opportunity for each character to leave the stage once, for a short time, during an extended exchange between the other two characters. Perhaps the character could return with a new prop. Or, all character could remain onstage throughout the play.
Once each character begins speaking, she continues to speak softly over the next character’s opening lines.
SHANNON
(counting the reps of her current exercise) One, two, three, four, five -
LALZARI
(taking the rake off of her shoulder, she caresses her pregnant belly and sings softly to herself) Zmah bachai, zmah gula stergay de putayka how weeda sha -
KRISTA
(as she writes) Even though it’s sunny outside, I feel cold and numb –
SHANNON
(keeps counting reps) six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven -
KRISTA
on the inside. There isn’t any way that I can see the future and feel positive about it. (she continues to write in her journal, but doesn’t speak over Shannon’s next lines)
LALZARI
Zmah bachai, zmah gula, zmah taoda ghage how meena issas kra- (she keeps repeating these lines, singing softly to herself until it is her turn to speak)
SHANNON
Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. (she stops and picks up a small towel, which she flings across the back of her neck, dabbing the ends on her face) Every day feels like Monday. There is always a sense of urgency that I associate with Monday mornings. If work is busy, I never get out of the hospital, so it’s Groundhog Day, over and over again.
KRISTA
I started writing this journal the day Greg left. I’ve never kept a journal before in my life, but my friend Debbie said she kept one on her husband’s last tour and it helped. So, I decided to try it. It can’t hurt.
SHANNON
Outside of the hospital, life on KAF takes on a certain predictability.
KRISTA
Look, I know that what I am doing is no big deal. There are lots of people who are waiting for someone to come home from overseas. My life is going on as usual, almost.
SHANNON
Kandahar Air Field is home.
KRISTA
Kandahar Air Field is safe. It’s inside the wire. I wish Greg could have stayed there forhis whole tour.
SHANNON
I’ve settled in. It’s big, it’s dusty and every day blurs into the last. My work is fascinating and variable, but after a while, it’s easy to forget what day it is. Finally, last week the fighting was light, so I could go to the Afghans’ market on base, so I knew it was Saturday.
KRISTA
This is the 21st century. It isn’t the Second World War, or anything. We don’t wait in dread of a bad news telegram. These days, we get our bad news in person. When yourhusband is on tour, you DON’T want your doorbell to ring!
SHANNON
The market is much bigger than I expected it to be. Last Saturday I bought a knock-off Gucci bag and three scarves. The morning was also casualty-free, so I volunteered at the little wooden school and played with the boys after their lessons, before they had to help their fathers in the market. I’m still trying to pick out the one little girl, disguised as a boy; if the rumour is true. Maybe next time I’ll buy a belly dance costume, even though it seems like a strange thing to find in a culture that covers its women so completely.
LALZARI
(she uncovers her face, by lifting the front edge of her burqua and pulling it back over her head, leaving the cap portion sitting on top of her head, with the front section now draped down her back. Under the burqua she wears a headscarf, loosely wrapping her head, the scarf ends flowing down, reaching almost to her feet. The ends are ragged, as is the hem of her once beautiful, brightly coloured and embroidered skirt. Her top is loose and flowing over her pregnant belly. At some future time in the play, she removes the burqua entirely. Now and then, she works in her fields, with the hoe) My mother loved me. I remember that. She held me in her arms and sang to me. I was a very little girl, but I remember - (she continues to sing the lullaby)
SHANNON
Who knows, maybe I’ll take up belly dancing for exercise.
LALZARI
I also sang it to my children. When they were very little, and cried in the night, I sang to them. I still have one more child, (she touches her stomach) to hear my song. (she continues to sing her lullaby until her next dialogue)
SHANNON
No one gets an actual day off in a war, but, our admin staff are happy on Sundays because the emails from Headquarters stop.
KRISTA
The days start to blur into each other, because I try to stay busy, but sometimes, late at night, my mind starts to play on things, you know? Sometimes, I cry after midnight, when the house is dark and quiet, and I’m all alone. It startles me, I don’t even realize that I’ve started to cry. I miss Greg so much, and I feel so bad that I’m / alone.
LALZARI
Alone in the field. To feel the wind and the sun on my face. To breathe freely.
SHANNON
We always know it’s Wednesday, because we hear the rocket-attack alarms being tested.
LALZARI
I am more fortunate than my brother. When he was not yet a man, he was very beautiful. A rich and powerful man comes to our village. He was a mujahideen when the Soviets were here. He wants my brother for his bacha bereesh. He will take him to Kabul, where he will have to wear make-up and clothing like a woman, with bells on his feet and he will dance for his Master’s friends. I hear the Mujahedeen’s men say this to each other when my father is not listening. The Taliban do not let anyone keep a boy for bacha bazi, but many men like to lie with boys. A woman is covered so no man can see her, but they can see if a boy is beautiful. The Mujahedeen commander pays my father too much money and so he allows him take my brother to the city. My brother thinks that he will only work for the man. Thoughts about that make my nights dark. / But then morning comes, and the sun is shining.
KRISTA
I talk to Greg on Skype almost every day. We send emails and facebook each other all the time. He also gets to phone almost every week, so really, we do have a lot of contact, but still, / I am afraid.
LALZARI
I am afraid, but I know that I must be brave. I ask my father, one day, what my husband is like. “Lalzari,” he says. “Your husband is a good man, from a good family. He is my cousin. He will take care of you and he will feed you. You will obey him and not cause any problems / for him.”
KRISTA
For him, it seems like a lot of contact - way more than we had on his first tour. Oh my god, his first tour. I was so naive. We married exactly three weeks before he had to leave. We were so young, but, it’s what he wanted, and I knew I loved him, so, what was the point of waiting until he got / home?
SHANNON
Home is everywhere and nowhere, I’ve been on so many courses, in so many places. I’m glad I don’t have anyone special waiting for me back home - no one that I have to worry about being worried about me.
KRISTA
I try not to worry about him, but I do. Some soldiers say that the real heroes of the war are the people left behind; the wives that are waiting. Greg said it once. That’s just not true, but if it were, it would be the wives who have children. It doesn’t matter how crappy they’re feeling, they still have to get out of bed and raise their kids. If I have a bad day, I just curl up in a ball on the couch and -
SHANNON
I wasn’t sure how I felt about actually being here the first time. Coming over as a doctor is different than going as a soldier who has trained for war. I’ve trained to save people. Do I support the war that I’ll be part of? Do I need to believe in it in order to do my job? I had to really think about that.
LALZARI
I am lucky that my father’s cousin has taken this step to make me his wife. My sister was not so lucky. My father killed a distant cousin from another village. He did not mean to kill him, but they had a disagreement that my father had to answer. When his cousin lost the dispute my father had to hide, or the man’s brother would kill him. He tried to jump into his cousin’s freshly dug grave, but it was too well guarded by the dead man’s family. And so he lost his chance at nanawati, forgiveness. Because my father is hiding, my mother cannot go out to the market. She has to carry the honour of the family. My father will have to kill her if she does not do so. But then my father has good luck. The maraka decides that my family will give the dead man’s family a woman to repay them for the death. This is called, Had po Had ke, that is, bone for bone. My older sister is given in marriage to the dead man’s brother. So, the badal, the debt, is paid. My father thought it might need two women, but in the end, the cousin was not so important to his family, so only my sister has to go. But a bride like that does not carry the honour of any man or his family. Everyone in his village will know that she came to them for badal. Everyone will spit on her for her whole life, while I have the chance of purdah. I will carry my husband’s honour. He will protect me. I will become Mor to my sons and their wives.
KRISTA
One day I want kids, but only when Greg can stay home more. I don’t want to raise kids alone. I love taking care of them at work, though. Do you know how many good jobs are there on an Army base for civi spouses? Not many at all. You have to wait for some soldier to get posted out so that his wife’s job will open up. It’s such a crapshoot. But I got lucky with the daycare on base. I could have looked for a job in the city, but I really didn’t want all that driving every day. Besides, I was tired of working as a dental assistant. Looking into people’s mouths had kind of lost its thrill, you know? If I was still living back home, I’d likely still be doing it. I worked in a great office. We were like a family. I knew that I’d never be able to replace that, so why try?
LALZARI
My mother doesn’t cry at my rukhsati, when my husband comes to take me from my father’s house. Because she does not, I cannot. My husband pays my father the walver of 40 sheep and some goats for me. I do not know how many goats. My husband will bring me to his village. I prayed to Allah that my husband would be a kind man. After my father tells me that I will have a husband, I pray five times each day. On the way to his home, I think that my prayers have been answered. We travel for two days. At night he gives me a blanket to cover myself in the back of his truck. He sleeps inside the truck. It is very cold at night, but I have a blanket. He brings me to the house of his mother. She looks at me. I want her to like me. I greet her and I smile. She does not smile. In her eyes I can see nothing. I cannot know if she likes me. I work very hard for my Mor. I do not bring shame to my family.
KRISTA
I was not pleased to be moving so far away from LA, I can tell you that. This isn’t quite the middle of nowhere, but it may as well be. And they have so many fricken things to do leading up to deployment that I hardly saw Greg before he left. Let me give you a little picture of what our lives have been like. Greg has been home for a total of 32 weeks in the last two years. It’s hard. It’s a good thing that we already had a relationship before that, so we’ve stayed strong, but it isn’t easy to / do.
LALZARI
Do not bring shame to your family. That is all that my father asks of me. Now I want to go to my father again, but I cannot. My village is far away and I do not know the way. No one will tell me how to return. I pretend that I would go if I could, but I know that I would not. If a person comes to me and says, ‘Come, I will take you to your father’s house. Come, right now,” how could I go? What can I say to my father? He received his payment for me. How can I again go to his house?
KRISTA
So that’s the thing. When you belong to the Military, they own your ass. How many other companies say, “Okay Fred, we need you at The North Pole, you’re leaving next month.” “But my wife doesn’t want to go to The North Pole, Sir.” “That’s too bad, Soldier.” “Maybe I could take a demotion and stay here.” “Maybe you should just obey orders and start packing.” I guess that maybe it has to work that way, but I have a theory. If you just let soldiers choose their own bases, it would sort itself out over time. I’m sure you could staff everything that was needed. But, they like to mix it up. I don’t think they like anyone to get too comfortable anywhere. No one should feel like they are home, or own a job too tightly. Got to be flexible, battle ready, stay on your toes.
LALZARI
When I was a child, there was a woman who ran away from her husband and returned to the home of her father in my village. She cried that she did not want to go back, that her husband beat her every day. When her husband came to my village to find her, her father and her brother held her, while her husband beat her for all of us to see. She begged her father to save her. They held her tightly, while her husband took out a knife and poza prekawal - cut off her nose. This, he said, was to remind her that she was his. That she should remember this and thank him that he did not kill her. She brought great shame to her father and to the house of her husband. The honour of a man is carried by the women of his family. My husband beats me, too, but it is not every day. If I go back to my father, it will be the same for me. It is better to stay here.
KRISTA
If you had told me ten years ago that I was going to end up an Army wife, I would have laughed in your face. I was independent; no one was ever going to tell me what to do or where I could live.
LALZARI
KRISTA
I don’t even glance up from my drink, because I don’t think he’s talking to me. Jody gives me a kick under the table, so I look up into the most beautiful brown eyes I have ever seen.
SHANNON
Besides, this was 1999, remember? No big wars were brewing in 1999.
KRISTA
We dance for the rest of the night. He gives me his phone number. I don’t know that the number is from Fort Irwin. How could I? I don’t know any soldiers. It is so loud in that bar that we can’t talk much. I get his name. “Greg”. Excuse me? “Greg.” Craig? “Greg”. Oh, hi Greg, I’m Krista. “Crystal?” Krista. “Oh, Nice to meet you, Kristen.” No, it’s, oh never mind. That smile! I’ll be Kristen for a night if you want me to be.
SHANNON
Then, when no one was watching, 911 snuck in a slapped us all down, hard. Everything changed that day, for everyone. My mom was worried immediately, and just about beside herself when it the invasion of Afghanistan was announced. Don’t worry, I said, they’re going to send Cub Scouts and Girl Guides before they send us Cadets.
KRISTA
When I ask Greg what he does, he shouts back something about moving stuff around and using heavy equipment, something like that. Oh no, I think, he’s a rig pig. “No,” he mouths the words, “Not the oil rig.” Good, I think, I don’t care how gorgeous he is, that would be a deal breaker. By then my two younger bothers have graduated from high school and first one, and then the other have gone out to work on off-shore rigs. I am not the least bit interested in dating someone from the rigs! They swear a lot, drink ridiculous amounts of beer when they are not working, and spend all their money on big toys. Plus they are never home. They live out there for weeks at a time, then come home for five minutes before they go back out and do it all again. It wasn’t until it was too late, until I was already in love with Greg that I realized, except for the big toys, that also describes Army life. Actually, they do also have big toys - LAVs, tanks, pistols, rockets, machine guns. The only difference is that they don’t have to buy them. Good thing, because they make a lot less money.
SHANNON
At that point, I have nothing but basic Boot Camp. I don’t know much about what I’ll be doing in the Army Medical Corps. All I know is, I won’t be a real soldier.
KRISTA
There is one other big difference between working on the oil rigs, or for any other company, and the Military. Soldiers put their personal lives aside, and are willing to give their lives, just doing their jobs. / Soldiers are pretty incredible human beings.
SHANNON
Soldiers are pretty incredible human beings. It’s their job to put their lives on the line, and I’ve never heard a single one complain about it. And fear of death? No, you don’t hear about that, either. What you do hear about is soldiers that are afraid of letting their friends down, of messing up in some way that causes others in their unit to face unnecessary danger, or not keeping their heads and making mistakes that get someone else killed. That’s what they worry about. That, and their families back home. They worry about their families having to deal with their deaths, but they aren’t afraid to die themselves.
KRISTA
Then, he said the word deployment. I knew it was coming. It had to, right? You can’t join the Army and just train endlessly. Eventually, you have to go off and do what you’ve trained to do. Greg was pumped, but he told me almost nothing about where he was going, or what he would be doing. He said that it was better that way. He wanted to protect me.
SHANNON
When the time came and I was told that I was shipping out, my parents were relatively cool about it. Everyone had seen it coming by then. One grandfather was pretty cute. He was rather proud of his granddaughter being in the Military. In fact, he rewrote his own history to match it. “If I hadn’t been so young, I would have gone to war. I got my papers in 1945. The war ended the week after I opened the envelope. If I could have gone, I would have.” My grandmother looked at him. “You would?” That was news to her.
SHANNON
IEDs. That’s the most common way to get hurt. Or killed. It’s terrible, how easily that can happen. One minute a soldier is walking along a dusty road, or riding in the back of a LAV, and in an instant, his life ends in a great huge BANG that he never sees coming. I had a patient, a Corporal named David, who lost a leg after such a blast killed his buddy, who was walking just ahead of him. He said they’d been talking about what they wanted to eat for dinner that night, and BOOM, he was flying backwards through the air. His friend was killed instantly; his last words on this earth were, 'the steak at this FOB totally -' Rocked, David told me. His friend would have said that the steak totally rocked. This was David’s third encounter with an IED, but his only injury. The first time, he had done a VPS of a culvert, and saw some garbage. Often, garbage is just garbage, but you always check to make sure. They brought in a minesweeper, and sure enough, someone had planted an IED in there. The second time, he found a PPIED. That means that it was supposed to go off when someone stepped on it. David was standing on it. Sometimes they are defective.
LALZARI
I see that there is a little grey in his beard. I did not notice this before. Its roughness brushes my face and my stomach turns over. I do not want him to touch me, but I have nowhere to go.
KRISTA
I love the way he touches me. So soft, so gentle. If I thought that I would never make love with him again, I’d -
LALZARI
He pushes me to lie down on my back, but he does not speak.
KRISTA
And the way that he tells me he loves me –
LALZARI
I don’t know what will happen next. His body is heavy on mine.
KRISTA
Slowly, I draw my hand down the length of my body and pretend that it is his hand.
LALZARI
He is grabbing at the folds of my skirt. I am frightened and push his hand away.
KRISTA
He caresses my face.
LALZARI
He slaps me hard across my face and I am still. I close my eyes and wait.
KRISTA
I close my eyes and imagine him near me.
LALZARI
When he pushes against me it feels like a hot knife has entered my belly. I cry out in pain. He laughs.
KRISTA
I miss his laugh, and his strong arms around me. I think that’s what I miss the most, as the / days pass.
LALZARI
Days pass into weeks. I do not get my bleeding time at all, and my stomach grows round. Mor is pleased with me and my husband stays away from my mat. When the pains start, the guns are ready. I push for the last time, Arrrrggghhhhh. There! The guns are firing. I smile. The guns are my answer. I hear my husband laugh. A Pashtun warrior has been born. My Almar is a good boy. His little feet carry him very quickly across the dirt of our compound. They carry him faster than he is able to control them and he falls. He wants to cry, but I pick him up and set him on his feet very quickly. No, I say, a warrior does not have need for tears. The eyes of the dove are lovely, my son. But the hawk rules the skies, so cover your dove-like eyes and grow claws. My husband is proud of his son. He does not come back to my mat until Almar is four years old. Then, he wants another son and lies heavily upon me again for many nights.
SHANNON
One day, before I was here in Afghanistan, I heard a soldier’s wife on the radio, talking about her husband, killed by an IED. Before he left they had their little children say goodbye to daddy forever. He felt it was his destiny to come here and die. I got so angry that I cried. I had to turn off the radio. I know that it’s simplistic to say that they brought his death about by giving it all that focus and expecting it to happen. But really, what are the odds? We’ve lost less than 2000 people out of the tens of thousands who have been here. What are the odds? Why him? Why not him? It’s random. It’s all just so totally random.
LALZARI
No gunshots are heard at the next birth, but I sing to her and hold her gently in my arms. I love this baby girl, my daughter, Zalanda. My husband does not come back to my mat until Zalanda is old enough to crawl away from me on the ground. He returns to me many times and soon my belly is round once again.
SHANNON
But still, I don’t give any thought, or any energy, to what I don’t want to have happen.
LALZARI
Zalanda is running in the fields, while I care for the plants. My belly is swollen so big now, it is hard to work. My husband comes to me in the rows of wheat and poppies. He is not alone. He tells me that he and the other men will take Zalanda with them. I cannot understand this. He does not give attention to Zalanda. My own father sometimes put me on his knee and talked to me, but that is not the way of my husband. I am anxious as he picks Zalanda up in his arms. She is crying. Where are you taking her? My husband raises his hand to strike me and I step away from him, quickly. He goes with the men to a truck. They drive away.
SHANNON
Is it silly to think that we control our own destiny? Is that possible, really?
LALZARI
When he comes home, Zalanda is not in his arms. What have you done with her? Where is Zalanda? Where is my Gula? (she falls to the floor, as if struck by her husband, but gets up again, defiantly) Where did you take her? (she backs away and braces for another blow, that does not come) He shows me some money. “Now I can feed you, worthless woman who gives me a daughter when I want another son.” This does not bring honour to namus - even a new-born daughter is part of namus, Namus is women, it is chastity and must be protected. Maal de sara zar au sar da namusa, 'sacrifice wealth to save the head, sacrifice head to save namus'. Getting money for Zalanda brings great sharam to him, but he will answer to no one. His family has great standing in the village. No one will question him. But his standing does not put food on our table. Always we are hoping for more food to eat, but the ache in my belly is nothing to the ache in my heart for my Zalanda. I do not know where she could be. Inshallah she will have a good life.
LALZARI begins the ritual of prayer: arms open, then crossed over her upper chest – right over left, then hands on knees, then kneeling, head touches the floor, up to knees, and back to floor –all the while murmuring the verses of the Koran to herself.
LALZARI
We are Pashtun first, Afghan second. We do not need a government telling us what laws we must keep.
SHANNON
I remember hearing about what the Taliban were doing to women, before 911. I could never understand why SOMEBODY wasn’t helping them.
LALZARI
After the Soviets left, the Taliban came and gave us rules that were not so different from our traditional laws. For us, generosity, hospitality and honour are everything.
SHANNON
Unable to leave their homes alone, denied basic health care, life must have been hell. Imagine the women from the cities who were well educated before the Taliban and had all that progress ripped out from under them.
LALZARI
Our men must be ready to answer to every slight against us. Our men say, “I against my brothers, my brothers and I against my cousins; my brothers, cousins and I against the world.”
SHANNON
Hearts and minds. That’s what our soldiers are trying to win - the hearts and minds of the people. And to train the ANA and ANP to look after things and keep the areas secure after we’ve gone.
LALZARI
We do not want the soldiers of the Northern Alliance bothering us. Some soldiers came to the house of my neighbour. They LOOKED at her. They say they are looking for Taliban, but they only want to steal. The Russians did not come into our homes, but now we have Muslim brothers who do. But, they are not Pashtun. They do not belong here.
SHANNON
Flying into FMG is spectacular. The whole country is not as dry and dusty as KAF. There are actual green spaces and stands of tress and bushes along the way. / It’s so beautiful!
KRISTA
It’s so beautiful, the support I get from the other wives I live with on base, but I also get way too much information. The other day I heard that his unit is starting foot patrols. It wasn’t enough that he was racing out of FMG in the back of a LAV every day. Now he’s going to be walking up and down roads and into villages that may not be happy to see him. Do I look like someone who can deal with that? / I don’t think so.
SHANNON
I don’t think I’ve ever slept better. In the morning, I wake to the sound of a mullah’s call to first prayer, from the nearby village. / So -
KRISTA
So, how do I know this? Some guys aren’t protective like Greg. They tell their wives all sorts of shit. By the time I walk from my family housing quarters to my job at the daycare, I practically know Greg’s orders for / the day.
SHANNON
The day has begun. I stumble out of my tent. The sun is still behind the mountain. Ahh, the best part of the day. You can almost forget how hot it will be / later.
KRISTA
Later, I find out that they haven’t been in KAF in months. I don’t appreciate knowing all this, I really don’t. Greg’s right. I can’t handle it. I know that he is well trained, well equipped, and trusts the guys in his unit. And that is all I need to know, really!
LALZARI
Mor has two daughter-in-laws in her compound. There is also Roshina, who is married to Turan, the younger brother of my husband. She is older than me. She was pleased when her husband chose her in marriage. She grew up in this village and knew of her husband before he asked for her hand. We show my mother-in-law great respect, but she does not show us great kindness. That is the way of the world. Some Mors may be kind, but ours is not. Today my husband will take her to the clinic at the foreign soldiers’ camp for some medicine. She is old and cannot use her hands. Almar will go with them. My Almar is very smart, and most beloved of his father.
SHANNON
I’m in the clinic all day. We are here for the soldiers, but I’m glad to help some local women, too. There is a little boy who’s a bright spot in my day. He’s come along with his father and grandmother, whose hands are very crippled with arthritis. What a solemn little boy he is, looking wide-eyed at the machines and instruments all around him. Wouldn’t it be great if this curious little boy could grow up to be a doctor and help the people of his village? What are the odds, I wonder. Accident of birth. I ask my interpreter to find out what his name is. Almar, he tells me. Hello, Almar. I wish you a long and happy life. Almar rewards me with a shy smile. He reaches for his father’s hand. He takes it protectively. I see the warmth in that small gesture. What a nice man.
LALZARI
When they get home from the camp, my pains begin. The birth is very difficult. The baby will not come. My husband shouts at me, impatient to see if he will have another son. I am in pain all through the night. I cry out to Allah to take this baby from me. Finally, as the new day is beginning, the baby is born. My husband fires the gun. I cry in relief, but stop when I see the face of Roshina. She is not smiling. There is something wrong with my baby. She shakes his little body, but he will not take his first breath. I cry harder, but now my tears are of fear that turns to grief. Yesterday, I felt him alive in my belly, but somewhere in this great night of pain, he grew still. Now I know that his was the sleep of death, even as he was being born.
My husband is striking me. I have killed his son. At first, there is much pain. I can see his angry face very close to mine. I am so hot I think I must be on fire. There is no air in this room. But then, I am sinking under the water in a peaceful river. His voice is far away. Then, I dream that I am running though a field of poppies with my baby in my arms. The air is sweet, and the breeze is cool on my face. I look down into the eyes of my baby and it is Zalanda who looks up at me. I cry out in joy, but when I say her name, she is gone. I am holding only the dust from the field.
SHANNON
There are many things that the Taliban do to kill as many troops as possible, but there is one tactic I was told about that – (beat) They take a small child, usually a girl, and place her in the middle of a road. Her feet are fixed in her shoes, and her shoes fixed to the road. When a convoy approaches, the lead driver has to make a choice. Stopping will facilitate an ambush from the insurgents lying in wait. Swerving to miss the little girl will result in activating the IEDs planted along the roadside. It’s win-win for the Taliban – at the very least, they have a video of foreign troops purposefully running over an Afghan child.
LALZARI
Zalanda, Zalanda, where are you my child? I do not feel you in the world. Many more days pass without my knowing. Then, one day, the fire in my head is gone and I can see the room clearly. Roshina brings me some water to drink. My heart is different then the day Zalanda was taken from me. This baby I did not know. Though my arms ache for him, my heart is more clear. Roshina tells me that my husband called him Ahmed. She does not know where my husband is, only that he is not here. I am happy for that. The days pass more easily without him here. Almar is by my side. He helps me to walk to the field for my day’s work.
KRISTA
Another thing about living on base is that I’m more involved in what everyone else is going through. (she opens her journal and reads an entry) Saturday, the 25th: Debbie came over to tell me the news that we had lost another one. He wasn’t one of ours, but Debbie knew him. She said his wife just had a baby. Debbie burst into tears, then I started crying and we were both a total mess for the next half hour. I didn’t know the soldier personally, but it doesn’t matter. I feel it so deeply it’s as if it happened to me.
LALZARI
Now I feel this baby move inside of me. My husband came to me only three times after the deathful birth of Ahmed. It was too soon, but without a baby to feed the milk was gone, so my body was ready to accept another baby, even if I was not.
KRISTA
I had a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach all of one day last week, but I didn’t know why.
LALZARI
This baby is moving well and I do not feel afraid that it will die inside me. In my dreams, it is I who will float away from life when this baby is born. I tell myself that even though it has happened many times in this village, it is only a dream and I will not be afraid.
KRISTA
Then, Greg called to say that there had been a black out - a time when no one was allowed to call off base, because there had been an incident.
SHANNON
We’re trying to make things as good as we can before we go, but no one has the illusion that this is a war we will win.
LALZARI
That night, my husband goes out to our field. It is too dark to see, but he is working. I am almost asleep when I hear the sound of an insect. It is part of the war. I have seen them in the sky, when I am working in the fields. Some say that these insects keep the Taliban away from our village.
KRISTA
Two weeks, one day and… about five hours, and I will be getting on that plane. I have to fly to LA, then Hong Kong, and then Bangkok. It will be exhausting, but ahhh – I can’t wait!
SHANNON
We already have a draw-down date for the end of this mission. They say that it would be a pity to die now, when we are so close to going home. Such a pity to die at any time in a war, I say.
LALZARI
My eyes are so heavy. It was a very hard day with my Mor, and cleaning the burnt fields, and the baby growing restless inside me. I wake to a very loud noise. I have only heard this noise far away before. It is from the soldiers. That much I know. Then I hear many people shouting and running past my house. There is fear in their voices. I want to know what they are afraid of, but I do not want to know what happened. I sit on my mat and fold my arms around my belly. It is a moment of not knowing that I will never have again. Slowly I rise from my mat. Almar runs to me. There are tears running down his small face. “Papa”, he cries, “Papa, my papa.”
KRISTA
My mother just called. My father had a massive heart attack. They were in a restaurant when it happened, and somebody knew CPR. A random stranger saved my father’s life. I have to be with him. What horrible timing. I’m flying to LA tomorrow. That gets me eight days with my dad.
LALZARI
The soldiers give some money to Turan. When Mor sees this, she says I do not work hard enough to eat her food. It is not for me or Almar. Roshina smiles sweetly and leads Mor to her bed. It will be all right, she says.
KRISTA
I can’t believe this is happening. God, I need him to be okay. I can’t even imagine not having him in my life.
LALZARI
Roshina allows me to eat every day. Her children are also hungry, but Almar can eat with them. One day I am working in the fields, and I see a woman that I have never seen before. She looks at my skirt and asks if I can make these beautiful embroideries. She tells me that she has money to give me for this. She will take them to the camp where soldiers can see them, and buy them for their mothers and wives in other countries.
KRISTA
I’m so worried about my mom. She’s emotional, like me. She is not dealing with this well. My brothers are totally useless. They called to see if he was all right. Of course he isn’t all right, he just had a massive heart attack and is waiting for surgery. Why aren’t you coming home to see him? Say they can’t get time off. He’s your father, for Christ’s sake, don’t you care? Useless twits. Oh hell, what am I going to do?
LALZARI
I want to do this, make embroideries that soldiers will buy. I can use my hands and get money to feed Almar and this child that will soon be born. I tell Mor and Roshina about the woman and what I will do. “Why would anyone pay for your embroidery?” asks Mor. She does not like any work that I do. “Shhh, Mor”, Roshina scolds, “If Lalzari can make some money with this, it will help us all.” “Good, she has been of no use to us until now. We need firewood right now, and you are busy talking to strangers in the fields.” Mor, there is no more firewood. After the crops were burnt, there is no more to be found. “Then go into the bushes to find some.” But that is forbidden by the Taliban. They want the bushes to be full to hide them from the soldiers. No one goes into the bushes now. Mor does not understand this. This is something new. It was not like this before the soldiers came here.
KRISTA
The doctor says that he is stable, that he isn’t in any immediate danger. They are monitoring him around the clock. I guess they know what they’re doing.
SHANNON
My second trip out to the FOB. I see something that breaks my heart. A man brings in a young woman, his sister-in-law. Her clothes are stained with blood. She is holding her hands tightly against her pregnant belly. She looks around the clinic, frightened and mistrustful. Then she looks at me, the pleading in her eyes unmistakable. Slowly, I hold my hands out to her, but she does not release hers to me.
LALZARI
Mor will not listen to Roshina. We need firewood and the only place to find it is in the trees outside of the village. I take Almar with me, so that we can get some very quickly. I do not know if there are Taliban in our village now. I have not seen them with my eyes. The trees are behind us, now. Almar’s little arms are full of branches and twigs. Then we see them. Three men dressed in black are walking towards us from the trees.
SHANNON
Gently, I take first one hand, and then the other. I see her fingers.
LALZARI
Run, Almar, run quickly. But the men block our path before we can go three steps more. “You cannot go into the trees.” We only took these small twigs for our kitchen fire. “This is forbidden.” Please, please, we took only a few. Almar! Please, he is only a little boy. One man hits Almar with the wooden end of his rifle. Almar cries out as he falls to the ground. Noooooo, please, he is all that I have. Almar. The man hits him again. The blow lands on his head. The sound it makes is terrible. I hear it even now, haunting my dreams. It is the sound of a melon, fresh from the field, falling from the top of the wagon and hitting the ground. My little Almar. Only two blows and he will never cry again. He is lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood. I try to go to him but another man is holding me back. Almar, no, no, my Gula. What have you done? “It is forbidden that you should take wood from these trees.” My hands are held on the top of a rock. I curl my fingers tightly, into a ball. The man who has only watched until now laughs. It is a hard laugh, without joy. He grabs one of my hands and opens my fingers, laying each one on the rock. He holds then down while the man who beat Almar takes out his knife. I stare at this man. I look into his eyes and see only blackness. I do not believe what my own eyes are seeing. Before I can scream he has cut off the tips of all of my fingers. The blood is turning the rock from grey to red. The man lets go of my hand and I plunge it into the folds of my scarf, pushing it against my body to stop the fingers from bleeding. I struggle to run, but still I am being held. The man laughs again and holds the knife to my belly. Slowly he traces the blade along its curve. I am feeling too dizzy with pain to cry out. I feel my other hand pulled from my body and placed in the blood on the rock. Again my fingers want to hold themselves tightly, but again I feel them pulled away from me one by one. This time he cuts off the tips more slowly. He is laughing now, with great joy in his voice. I am crying, the pain is so great. The first hand is throbbing, the blood pulsing out. The second hand, now freshly cut, hangs limp at my side. I cannot make it move. I have lost all will to do anything. Five little puddles of blood form on the ground, my fingers feeding the earth and making it rich with colour. Finally, I see that the pools are coming from me and I hug my belly with my arms, hiding the bleeding ends of my fingers against my sides. The men are gone. I did not even see them go. I turn to the trees and there on the ground lies my little Almar. His face does not show the pain that he felt, only surprise that his life was ended. I weep for him. I want to put his tiny head back together again. I reach for him, but can give him only my blood.
SHANNON
(holding Lalzari’s hands) Each finger has been amputated, just below the nail bed. I ask if the fingertips have been saved. The wounds look reasonably fresh; there would be a chance of saving at least some of them. No, they were left in the field. I clean them. I stitch them. I dress them and ask if she can come back to be checked in a few days. I want the dressings to stay clean to keep the fingers free of infection. The man nods in agreement, but when I ask the interpreter to find out how this happened, he remains tightlipped. The woman hears the question. She has only one word, / Taliban.
LALZARI
Taliban.
SHANNON
I have just finished stitching the young woman’s fingers, when I get a call to pack up. A helicopter is coming for me. They need me back at KAF.
KRISTA
I’m slumped in a chair in the waiting room with yet another cup of coffee. I look up and see two guys in uniform talking to someone at the nurses’ station. At first it doesn’t even register. I see guys in uniform all the time. Then I realize where I am, and wonder why the hell two uniforms are in the ICU of an LA hospital. I see one of them nod to a nurse. Then, the other one turns and stares right at me.
SHANNON
There has been an incident. Multiple casualties. They need all the surgeons to scrub up. It’s going to be a long night.
KRISTA
Slowly, they start down the hall. I stare back. Why are they headed straight for me? They stop in front of my chair and ask if I am Krista Gellan, Corporal Greg Gellan’s wife. I nod. What’s going on? They pull chairs away from the wall and sit down to face me. “I’m sorry,” says one of them, and it hits me. I know why they’re here. I burst into tears. I can’t even hear what they are saying. Everything is a blur. If I hadn’t been sitting, I would have been on the floor. I feel a hand supporting me and I hang onto it. I look into his eyes and slowly his face swims back into focus. I begin to hear the words he is saying. Ambush, explosions, heavy fire. Alive. Wait. Alive? Greg is still alive. I exhale slowly and start to really listen. Greg is hurt very badly, but he is alive. He is in the hospital in KAF. He is being operated on now. They have the best trauma surgeon working on him.
SHANNON
This one looks bad. I’ve seen worse, though, that I was able to pull through. I think I can help him.
LALZARI
Roshina helps me to eat, she helps me to dress. Mor will not look at me. I only remind her of all she has lost.
KRISTA
Greg has lost a lot of blood, but they’re optimistic. I hold the officer’s arm more tightly. The harder I hang on to him, the better Greg’s odds of living. What exactly are his wounds? What are they operating on? What are his chances of surviving? They don’t have any more answers. They are doing their best. Right now he is alive. I close my eyes and try to breath with him, for him, my whole body willing him to live.
LALZARI
I do not yet know if I will embroider again. Instead of me holding a needle with my fingers, a needle is used to sew my fingers.
LALZARI
Stergay de putayka how weeda sha. Zmah bachai, zmah gula, zmah taoda ghage how meena issas kra.
The End
Acronym Glossary
(pronunciations follow each acronym in the brackets; some acronyms become words, others remain as letters)
ANA - Afghan National Army (A.N.A.)
ANP - Afghan National Police (A.N.P.)
FMG - Fob Ma’sum Ghar (F.M.G.)
FOB - forward operating base (Fob)
IED - improvised explosive device (I.E.D.)
ISO - semi-permanent quarters on base (Iso)
KAF - Kandahar Air Field (Kaf)
LAV - Light Armored Vehicle (Lav)
PPIED - pressure plate improvised explosive device (P.P.I.E.D.)
Shura - a meeting of the village elders and our officers
VPS - Vulnerable Point Search (V.P.S.)
Translation of Lalzari’s lullaby:
Zmah bachai, zmah gula stergay de putayka how weeda sha
My child, my flower, close your eyes and sleep -
Zmah bachai, zmah gula, zmah taoda ghage how meena issas kra
My child, my flower, feel my warmth and love