Her Delayed War Read online

  Her Delayed War

  By R J Nicolson

  Her Delayed War

  R.J. Nicolson

  copyright © R J Nicolson 2018

  ISBN-13: 978-1985897038

  ISBN-10: 1985897032

  This book is in the words of the author only.

  Recommended for readers over 18 due to content.

  License note

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without authorization of the author. Any distribution without consent is illegal and punishable in a court of law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To those who continue to fight.

  Prologue

  It’s been seven years since I returned from my last tour of Iraq. Seven years since I was assessed and released from service to return to my home and to get on with a normal life. Normal life; consisting of a routine job, friends and most importantly family. Now I work as a retail manager in a clothes shop doing the same thing day in and day out. Life wasn’t always like this. Being a female soldier in the British army wasn’t exactly fun all the time; but some of the time it was pretty awesome.

  I’ve been stationed in some of the remotest countries; helped with aid treatment, handing out food and medicines to families in Far East countries which desperately needed us and inevitably opened my eyes to the life led by a large proportion of humanity. I’ve also been stationed sixty one miles from my home town, doing parades and training. I loved them all; every tour, every take down and every training exercise.

  Sometimes I wish I’d never left; well that was until I woke one day and was too scared to leave the house to go to work. Too scared because someone was standing out there with what looked to be a loaded Tabuk Sniper Rifle. I’d gotten to the end of the drive ready to jump in my car but had seen him walking up the street and sprinted back to my door as fast as I could manage. Locking the door and then spying out the peephole in the door. He was just stood there, weapon raised and his aim steady right on me.

  He’s been there ever since, taunting me. I barely sleep and when I do nod off I’m haunted by the sounds of gun power raining bullets at me from all around, the smell of gun powder seeps into my body over powering me and the sights of dead bodies lying all around me. I can’t escape it; I don’t understand it and no one can save me. Can they?

  Chapter 1

  August 14th 2008

  Everyone is in high spirits on this flight home from our last tour of Iraq. My squadron are telling jokes and regaling each and every one with stories of the family lives that are awaiting them. The smiles of happiness are evident on each and every one of their faces. Pride at what we have achieved and overcome written all over them. It’s a five hour flight which to me means five hours sleep, you don’t realise how much you have missed until it eventually hits down time.

  Home and on UK soil. The land of the Queen. It smells so different here and nothing is sandy; well unless you’re at a beach but it’s not a desert and its damn cold. I adjust my beret so it’s angled just right and climb into the back of one of the HX60 Cargos which will take us back to our barrack.

  Assessment after assessment; check after check, and then I’m no longer Corporal Emery; a soldier with the British Army. I’m now just Jodi Emery, ex-soldier and now unemployed.

  Returning home is an emotional rollercoaster, the banners are out and my parents have gathered the world together by the looks of things when I pull up outside their house. I pull out some cash to pay the taxi and hop out, grabbing my bags; all the rest of my stuff was delivered here for me. Everything I’ve accumulated over the last few years and have not returned home is now awaiting my attention but not before the party I’m walking in on.

  “WELCOME HOME!” Is screamed from every crevice of this small three bed semi.

  “Thank you.” I just get out before someone has me wrapped in a bear hug. Enveloping me in a masculine scent, a scent I know very well; it smells like home.

  “Hey pop’s. How are you feeling?”

  “Better now that my little princess is back here with me.”

  “Did you miss me? I’d have never guessed; what with the dozen letters a month you sent me.”

  “What can I say? I love my little princess. You have been gone for far too long. Don’t leave me again; you understand? You’re grounded forever.” I have to laugh; he’s always been this way. As an only child they always doted on me. Ruined me in fact but my dad more so.

  “I’m done pop’s; home for good now, I promise.” I whisper in his ear as he hugs me into him again. I feel the wetness on his cheek from the tears that he couldn’t keep control of.

  “Give me my baby Cal, right now!” My mum grabs me from his grasp and checks me over from head to toe.

  “I’m here mum, all of me. No war wounds. I’m still the same as I always was.” I smile at her.

  “They didn’t feed you did they. There’s not an ounce of fat anywhere; actually you’re nothing but skin and bone. Cal, get her some food right this minute. I’m surprised she’s still here! She’s so skinny that if she turned sideways she’d vanish.” She turns around so she is looking at him then claps her hands together “For god sake Cal! Right this minute!” She demands before she turns to face me again.

  “Baby, have they been treating you well?”

  “Of course, it’s just because of the heat. I ate loads and your care packages were amazing; there is nothing quite like galaxy chocolate when everyone else is sleeping.”

  “Oh, you didn’t share it?” Her face shows her disappointment in me.

  “Of course I did, but where they all wolfed it down like it was going to grow legs and run the hell away, I saved mine for the nights when I missed you all most.” Her face lights up then drops within seconds.

  “I’m so glad you’re home honey.” She says, grabbing me again.

  My dad saunters over with a plate piled high to the extent that food is rolling off the plate and thrusts it at me before winking and turning to talk to some friends.

  “Eat and chat honey; everyone is here for you.” Mum says before she leaves me to it.

  People come over and thank me for my dedication to our country, hugging me and raining kisses on my face. Friends I haven’t seen in so long tell me about their lives and families. Most of my friends have kids now and are married. I’m not even nearly there yet; there isn’t really much time to date let alone anything else when you can be posted miles from anywhere, miles from home.

  I’m exhausted by the time everyone has left; I just want to get my head down. Tomorrow is a new day. I don’t have to leave again.

  “Baby girl we have you a job interview set up.” I roll my eyes at my mum’ you wouldn’t think I was twenty one.

  “Can we not do this tonight? I’m worn out and could just do with some sleep?”

  “Diane, let that girl sleep, she’s only here for a week and then her house should be ready to move into. Honey, go to bed. We can all sit and chat tomorrow.”

  I drag my tired body up the stairs and into my bed without even showering. I actually think I fell asleep on the first step of the stairs because I can’t remember getting into bed.

  I wake to my mum sitting on the end of the bed; the smile on her face is full of love.

  “Hey baby girl, it feels like forever since I spent time watching you sleep; you know I used to watch you for hours when you were little. Sorry if I scared you I just wanted to take you in while you are here.”

  “It’s ok mum but sh
eesh don’t do that all the time.” As someone trained to almost sleep with one eye open I can’t believe I slept through her coming in here to watch me sleep. It’s a strange feeling.

  October 2003

  Iraq

  The order is issued and we are sent to assess the casualties with the car suicide bombers. Bodies were strewn here there and everywhere. It’s a picture I can’t really fathom and my heart hurts for all involved.

  To say we are lucky that the fifth car bomber didn’t succeed in his takedown is an understatement. I can’t even begin to imagine the horror of more of this. Throughout the whole mass destruction, we have 35 dead and 244 injured personal. My whole platoon is spread out hoping to find someone else we can save from all of this destruction. It’s super scary that we are so close to it and that at any time anyone of us could be next. The few of my platoon who are close by are wearing the fear as much as I do.

  “I can’t fucking believe we have been here for six months and this is what’s happening. They are killing more of their own, Corp.”

  “I know, I know!! But we are needed here.” The haunted look on Stowell’s face sinks into me and suffocates my soul. The horror before us is heart-breaking and it tears me to pieces but I have a job to do as does my platoon.

  Chapter 2

  August 2015

  After taking the interview my mum had set up for me I’ve been working as a retail assistant for just under seven years; it’s not as exciting as being a soldier but it pays my bills and I use it to help keep me somewhat grounded and normal which I’m not.

  I got the invite to a reunion from my old sergeant; it’s exciting to think it’s already been seven years and even though I’d love to have that family again, I’m happy that I get to see them tonight and to spend time reminiscing about our past.

  I shower at five so I know I’ll be ready for my taxi at seven; I’m wearing the tightest pleather skinny’s ever and a short emerald green fitted corset top. The invite said plus one but I’m lacking in the friend department as they are all married or have babies to look after so are never really free to do stuff with me. I’ve never found anyone to settle down with; I don’t sleep great so getting to that stage in a relationship would be a no go, inviting anyone over to stay the night would be insane, I can see it now;

  You’re up? Couldn’t you sleep?

  Oh no, sorry the night terrors start when I close my eyes, I tend to fall asleep as it’s getting light and then just sleep for a couple hours.

  Have you spoke to someone about that?

  Why yes I have, I was diagnosed with delayed PTSD. Have you ever heard of it?

  No

  Didn’t think you would have. It’s not something spoken about often enough.

  Yeah I can see it now; they would leave before I’d finished my sentence. So I’ve convinced myself I’ll forever be single. Even I struggle with my past; I would never make someone else suffer through what I do. I work, I go home, I sometimes visit my folks but more often than not they visit me. Every day is the same as the last and every night is a struggle.

  Tying my hair into some kind of up-do and sticking some make up on means I’m ready and as I haven’t been out lately, I’m pretty excited. Even though I’m going alone and I’m extremely nervous, I’m excited to go.

  My body vibrates with the nerves that have taken over me; even just getting into the taxi which is parked outside of my house has set me off. Travelling to the venue is excruciating. I’m not sure how many times I wanted to scream at the driver to take me home, just to turn around and take me straight back to the haven I call home. My palms are drenched with the nervous sweat that pours from them and I know if I don’t reign it in, I’ll be in full on panic attack mode soon. My therapist has given me techniques to help but no matter how hard I try evening out my breathing or talking myself out of the thoughts in my head, it just never works.

  Pulling up to the venue, I can’t make my body move, like physically it won’t follow the signals my brain is sending it. I’m glued to my seat even though the driver has given me the price and is looking at me like I have ten heads, it’s not getting through to me. I’m stuck in some sort of horror show; if I leave this car everyone will see me for who I am and what I have done.

  “Excuse me, miss. We are here. I have another fare to pick up; do you want me to go get someone for you?” The poor driver doesn’t understand and he probably thinks I’ve completely lost it.

  “Corporal Emery, Corporal Emery, is that you?” Knock, knock. “Hey Corps, come on the party is just starting, are you ok?” Someone’s face is plastered to the taxi passenger window.

  “Excuse me, miss. Someone is here do you mind hopping out now?”

  I throw him some cash and unwillingly pull at the handle of the door to get myself out of here. I stand on extremely shaky legs, with no doubt in my head that I’ve made one of the biggest mistakes of my life by coming here. I’m mentally not stable enough to be here. I want to leave more than anything, but I also want to see my other family. Someone links their arm through mine, grabbing my attention with the force of a steam roller.

  “I’m so glad you came, no one thought you would, even though you accepted the invite. How are you? Can you believe it’s been seven years? I mean seven years isn’t that long considering but hell I’ve missed everyone. Some of our troops have moved on so quick, hell some of them have kids and partners. I still play the field; my new squeeze came with me. I can’t wait for you to meet him he’s heard a lot about you.” God she doesn’t stop but it gives me time while she’s gibbering to calm my oncoming panic attack to simmering, still there but not at full throttle.

  “You have never changed have you, Cathy? I’ve missed you too and I’m excited to be here. How are you?” I say with a slight quiver in my voice.

  “Oh, Corporal Emery, I’m amazing, I’d love to still be touring and with you all but seriously I’m enjoying all the freedom I have since we left.” She’s so carefree; I’m in such a state of jealousy that it rages through my veins like poison desperate to rear its ugly head.

  “You can call me Jodi; that’s my name, you know? Let’s just go in.” I say through gritted teeth. I just want to leave; I can tell right now before I even enter that no one is going through the daily torture like I am. What the hell is wrong with me?

  Cathy drags me through the door and announces my presence for me.

  “She’s here all!” She screams from the top of her lungs as people spill over to me. My whole body wants to curl up onto the floor like it’s going to swallow me whole.

  It seems to me the whole platoon has made it here for this reunion but my earlier excitement has evaded my body and my trembling insecure soul is the only thing about me in existence. I continually tell myself thirty minutes, thirty minutes and you can blow this place and hide in the comfort of your own space. Thirty minutes and you won’t have to be in this torture tormenting yourself the way you are. The devil is on my shoulder telling me that I will always be in hell, never mind the situations I try to put myself in.

  I receive hugs and back slaps from so many people that I don’t have time to sort out the situation in my head. The trembling never subsides; it’s a presence that is there to stay. Thirty minutes.

  October 31st

  2003

  Another British casualty was radioed to us, freezing us in place; I know this is a war, but what the fuck? No one is ever really prepared for this shit. Small Arms Fire. Heart breaking doesn’t even begin to describe the feelings surrounding us. Silence stretched from one to another, our pain bleeding from each and every one of us sending out a silent prayer that this ends real quickly. No one honestly understands the pain we feel at losing a brother or sister. Even when we don’t know them personally they are still our family. Every loss takes another piece of your being away, never to return.

  Chapter 3

  I’m dragged to a seat in between at one point some of the most important people I have ever met but I can’t fathom o
ut where they now fit. They talk about their lives and how much they have achieved since they left the army but I’m struggling with the internal battle I face daily with normal civilians.

  There is nothing normal about me, obviously.

  Cathy introduces me to Mohammad, the man in her life and he’s beautiful, but I can’t shake his hand. He’s Arabic and not only does the guilt of this flood my body, but the guilt I feel about what happened during our tours also. We were sent there to help them and so many died during that it’s another of my triggers. My breathing shallows until someone catches my eye. Someone in the shadows, I didn’t think anyone else would feel the same as me but I can see it like he’s calling to me as my own self calls to him, calling to everyone suffering the same hell I am.

  I apologise and scoot myself out of the confinement they have me in, drawn to my friend PTSD whomever it may be.

  “You feel it too?” Shoots from his mouth, when I get close enough to him.

  I nod as words elude me. I want to question him, ask him about his triggers and what he sees when it hits him but my whole being is simmering at peace with him beside me. Knowing I’m not the only total head case after all these years is like every therapy session I’ve had. Sort of soothing.

  “I can’t believe our Corp is suffering the same as lowly old me.” Jenson murmurs.

  “Sorry, I can leave you alone.” My sweaty palms start again as I react to his words.

  “No, I’m sorry; it’s one of my defence mechanisms. I kind of make people feel intimidated before they can make me feel it. Did he set you off?” He points towards Cathy and Mohammad.

  “No—oo—oo, the ride here set me off. Everything is like flames holding me to the stake.” I turn and climb into the seat. “I’m desperate to leave. Just a few more minutes. I even wish they had done this a year or so ago, I was a different person then.”