44

Wednesday, February 10, 2021, 8PM Eastern Standard Time

Joe and Vaneida walked through the streets of Georgetown, talking about American history. Dinner conversation had been similarly restrained, as if neither wanted to violate the other’s privacy. After Joe asked her to postpone the topic of conversation he had wanted to talk about until later, when they could go somewhere less public, their talk was neither too political nor too personal. When the check came, Vaneida insisted on splitting it, and was impressed that Joe did not put up the typical male fight to pay the whole thing.

“Okay,” he simply said.

Then, “You want to stop by my place for tea or coffee to talk? I’m not even out of boxes. New apartment. A lot of my stuff is still down in an apartment in North Carolina. But I have a couple of chairs.”

“Uh…” Vaneida said, not sure how to answer.

“Let me get this out of the way, so we don’t have to worry about it. I am not coming on to you. I’m not on the market right now in any way, shape, or form. And I could be mistaken, but I would not be an option for you anyway, right? You can slap me down if I’ve offended.”

Vaneida exhaled.

“Not at all,” she said, in relief. “I think your… diagnosis of the situation is 100 percent accurate. And tea sounds good.”

“Perfect,” Joe said. “I’ve got an early day tomorrow, but I do have something I wanted to talk to you about before then.”

“Early day?”

“Traveling. Out west. Do some security training for a client, I guess.”

“Sounds very cloak-and-dagger.”

“More PowerPoint, I think.”

They paid the bill and walked out onto M Street, then east and south, under the freeway overpass, toward Joe’s large apartment building on the river.

“What was all that about in the van?” Vaneida said suddenly.

“What?”

“All that, ‘You guys aren’t united,’ ‘You failed,’ calling the Democrats ‘They.’”

Joe walked on in silence for a few steps. Then he spoke.

“You know, I guess I was never comfortable with politics. And I certainly never thought of myself as a member of any party before I went overseas. There was a guy over there who became important to me, he once told me, ‘You are a goat, not a sheep.’ I think he was right.”

“How did you vote, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Rarely,” Joe said. “And I have to admit I voted for a lot of Republicans. I think I was rebelling against my parents. They were pretty liberal, and then they got divorced. That probably didn’t make me very well-disposed toward Democrats.”

“Huh,” Vaneida said. “What changed your mind?”

“Really,” Joe said, “it probably was the betrayal of the Kurds. It really threw me. I was living in a world where we were the good guys, and suddenly we were definitely not the good guys.”

“But your political philosophy?”

“That’s why I am talking to you,” he said. “That’s what I have to figure out. I’ve never thought these things through in any sort of systematic way. I want to figure out what I am. …We cross here and there’s the entrance over there.”

They crossed the street to the riverside promenade. A glass atrium served as the lobby of his building.

“Believe it or not,” Joe said, “it came down to either this or a place in the Watergate. But this place was more convenient for work.”

They entered the apartment and took the elevator to the top floor. Joe opened the door and let Vaneida in, and said, “I’ll put the water on for tea. Have a seat.”

Vaneida walked to the living room picture window, which overlooked the river and Theodore Roosevelt Island. Turning back to the living room, she heard a kettle whistling, and walked over to the single bookshelf. She looked at the titles, mostly American history, with an emphasis on military history and biography, and a smattering of Middle East-related volumes. She was about to reach for a book about the Iraq War when she located an odd-looking object on the bookshelf, sticking out from under a pile of books and papers on a lower shelf. It looked like a diploma. She pulled it out and opened it up.

THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
TO ALL WHO SHALL SEE THESE PRESENTS, GREETING: 
THIS IS TO CERTIFY THAT
THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 
AUTHORIZED BY ACT OF CONGRESS JULY 9, 1918 HAS AWARDED

THE SILVER STAR
TO
SERGEANT GRADE 1 JOSEPH DURCAN
FOR
GALLANTRY IN ACTION
FROM
15 OCTOBER 2017 TO 15 OCTOBER 2017
GIVEN UNDER MY HAND IN THE CITY OF WASHINGTON

“What are you doing?” Joe said, coming up behind her with two cups of tea in his hands.

She spun around.

“Sorry… I thought it was a diploma. I wanted to know where you went to school,” Vaneida said.

“Here’s your tea,” Joe said.

“I’m sorry,” she said, putting the object back on the shelf. “I didn’t mean to snoop. I just like seeing what books other people like.”

“Well, that isn’t one of them,” Joe said.

“I’m really really sorry,” Vaneida said.

“No problem,” Joe said. “I guess if it was some real deep dark secret I’d have hidden it away.”

“The Silver Star… isn’t that kind of a big deal?”

“Medals. Do you know what Napoleon said about them?”

“No,” Vaneida said.

“‘Orders and decorations are necessary in order to dazzle the people.’ He also was supposed to have said, ‘A soldier will fight long and hard for a bit of colored ribbon,’ and ‘Give me enough medals and I’ll win you any war.’ Though those last two may be apocryphal.”

“I guess he ran out of medals in 1815,” Vaneida said.

“I guess we ran out of medals in Syria and Iraq,” Joe said.

“I’m sorry, I hate people who intrude on me, and I’m very embarrassed to have done it to you.”

“That’s okay,” Joe said. “I know your intentions were good.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I think they are.”

There was an awkward pause.

“Why don’t we have a seat,” Joe said, motioning toward the only armchair. Vaneida sat down. Joe sat down on the couch.

“Sorry, no TV service yet,” he said.

“I hate television,” she said.

“I am amazed at the amount of time I used to spend on it,” he said. “That, and video games.”

“Did they help you with… that?” she said, motioning toward the medal citation.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Possibly, a little. I did do the single-shooter games a lot. I knew a guy in the service who had never played football in his life, but was addicted to an NFL game, and he walked on to his high school’s team his senior year and ended up the Most Valuable Player of his team’s conference.”

“Hey, if you need money, you could always do ads for the combat video games. ‘I was a slacker until I started playing Xbox, and now I have this medal.’”

“That is ALL I need,” he said.

“So how did you get into protesting wars instead of fighting in them?”

“I wasn’t protesting war,” he replied quickly. “Well, certainly not at first.”

“You weren’t?”

“No. I was actually protesting us getting OUT of a war. Well, the manner of our getting out.”

“So, you think those Middle Eastern wars were justified?” Vaneida’s hackles were raised again, as they had been in the police van. Maybe this was a mistake.

“Whether they were justified or not,” Joe said, “by the time I got there, certain expectations had been raised. Democratic institutions had arisen – I’m talking about Iraqi Kurdistan in particular. ISIL – ISIS I guess to civilians – had been kicked out of large swaths of territory. Women were suddenly free from medieval subjugation there and in places like Afghanistan, thanks to our presence. And all of a sudden, after doing all that, bleeding and suffering and killing and dying for that, boom, we’re just leaving because this guy rolls out of bed and decides to crap out a Toot. So, I and my fellow American soldiers, who were being treated like royalty by the people there, suddenly we are ordered out, and we’re having shit thrown on us and being cursed. I can tell you, Kurdish people know how to curse. And how to aim shit at you.”

“I can appreciate how that might be…maddening,” Vaneida said.

“The Kurdish leader I was working with predicted it, too,” Joe said. “I kept assuring him that America would keep her promises. He said to me, ‘Have you seen “Lawrence of Arabia?” I think you might need to watch that to see what happens over and over in this part of the world.’”

“Really?” Vaneida said. “My understanding is, that movie really romanticized the whole British effort to aid the Arab Uprising.”

“It did,” Joe said. “I did not watch it until I came back, but after watching it I can see why everyone wants to be ‘[Fill in the Blank] in Arabia.’ And that is dangerous. However,” he continued, “the way the film ends shows the whole cynical great-power land-grab and resource-grab thing triumphing over any ideals Lawrence started with. Now that I’ve seen it, I can see how Ahmed, the Kurd leader, was almost plagiarizing lines from the movie. ‘You are young, you have not seen how things always turn out in this region,’ he would say. ‘Young men fight wars, old men make peace, and by doing so they often betray the young men.’ And he was very big on the old Kurdish sayings.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, cryptic stuff, super-deep. ‘When a bald man dies, the mourners give him curly hair as a present.’”

“What does that even mean?”

“Beats the shit out of me. ‘Deal with your friends as if they will become your enemies tomorrow, and deal with your enemies as if they will become your friends tomorrow.’ That one was pretty painful to think about on the way out. The Kurds have really gotten the shaft throughout history.”

“Wow.”

“They are the largest ethnic group without a nation of their own. That’s what they like to say, anyhow. Thirty, thirty-five million people. About the size of Venezuela or Malaysia. Bigger than Australia.”

“They really got screwed after World War I when the Ottoman Empire was being carved up,” Vaneida said.

“Yeah. Their people all spoke the same language, but they ended up split between Iran, Iraq, Syria, and Turkey. Ever since, those four countries have been oppressing them and killing them to keep them from uniting. But they still succeeded in building a free-ish state within a state in Iraq, and another one in Syria near the Turkish border.”

“Where and when did you meet up with them?”

“Iraqi Kurdistan. It’s by far the best place in Iraq now. Irbil is a real city, safe, great restaurants, they’ve done an unbelievable job. But they have a sword dangling over them at all times. ISIL took a lot of their territory, and we – the United States armed forces, including yours truly, helped them get it back.”

“They must have been grateful.”

“They were. For a while. The mala – Ahmed – almost treated me like family. The hospitality there is amazing. The mountain villa he took me to was pretty over the top. I got a whole wing to myself. He even talked to me about how he needed brave battle-tested husbands for his daughters. He was looking at me almost like he was talking about me.”

“Wow. That has to be rare, with a foreigner.”

“I think it is. Though I think you would like the Kurds. The Pesh Merga, their fighting forces, are completely gender-integrated. I met some women there who could absolutely kick my ass. Really impressive people. History has just completely scrubbed all the bullshit out of their society. They have no time for phony distinctions.”

“So why did he take such a shine to you?”

Joe paused.

“You don’t want to talk about it?” Vaneida asked.

“I’m… uncomfortable with it,” he said.

“I don’t want to pry,” she said. “Of course, I say that after I rifled through your belongings.”

Joe laughed.

“Well,” he said, “I think he obviously liked me because we fought side by side against ISIL. Or as he called it, Daesh, a name that ISIL hates. I guess it’s insulting in Arabic.”

“Was that October 2018, or whatever that thing said?”

“October 2017. That was probably when he began to trust me. We came under attack from Daesh forces unexpectedly, at a time and place we thought was secure. We were resting and all of a sudden four vehicles were headed for us. The guards started shooting at them but they kept coming. I had been asleep, but I woke up, saw what was happening, and I don’t even know how or why I did what I did, but I grabbed an anti-tank rocket launcher that was near me, scooped up some rockets, and ran up the nearest hill to a big rock.”

“Jeez. That is some GI Joe stuff right there.”

“It was pure panic,” Joe said. “If someone didn’t stop those vehicles, we were all going to be having a very short, very bad day. I set the thing up and started firing on the vehicles. It was pure luck that my first shot hit the lead vehicle. It blew up in just a huge explosion. That held up the vehicles behind it for just long enough for us to start firing effectively on them.”

“’Firing effectively.’”

“Yeah, that means something specific in the military. We have our own language. It makes things easier when things get kinetic.”

“‘When things get kinetic.’”

“See? And don’t get me started with acronyms. They save time, and also make it pretty much impossible for civilians to understand anything we say.”

“So how did things end up?”

“Honestly, I am not sure what the hell happened. There was so much smoke and noise and confusion, it was anyone’s guess who did what to whom. And of course, I was being shot at, which can be a little distracting. When the smoke cleared a little, they decided that I had disabled every one of the enemy vehicles. All I remember is shaking, getting shot at, and firing that rocket launcher continuously until I was completely out of rockets. I’m just happy I didn’t kill any of our own guys.”

“So that must have made you some fast friends among the Kurds.”

“Yeah. Ahmed seemed pretty impressed. I think he liked the fact that I refused to take credit for anything I was unsure of. That’s when I heard my first Ahmed Kurdish saying. ‘Only those away from the battlefield boast about their swords.’”

“Heavy.”

“Yeah. He was a heavy guy. Spiritually, anyway. Still is, I hope.”

“And you kept fighting alongside him for how long?”

“We were attached to his Pesh Merga group for several months then. Getting the area free of Daesh…” Joe paused for a moment, staring into space. “I don’t know what it was like for the American army in World War II to liberate towns from the Germans in France, but it must have been something like that. I’ll never be hugged or kissed like that ever again. It was a great feeling.”

“So when you were told you had to leave right away, that must have been a real letdown,” Vaneida said.

“It was. I felt so ashamed. I never thought I would be ashamed to be an American. I mean, I’m a patriot. But I’m not the sort of in-your-face America-Love-It-Or- Leave-It obnoxious type. I hope not, anyway. But when we were ordered out of Syria, where I had gone next, I felt like shit. We were leaving these people to be slaughtered by three different armies. Syrians, Russians, Turks. Even some Iranians. They had developed this sort of amazing mini-state on the Syrian-Turkish border, Rojava, they called it. It even had dual male-female leaders. They called their system ‘Libertarian Socialist Federated Semi-Direct Democracy.’”

“Wow. That’s a mouthful.”

“So technically I was fighting to preserve a socialist state, right? Pretty good for a Midwestern semi-Republican meatball, huh? But the Turks saw Rojava as a threat, thought it could be a rallying point for all the Kurds, including 12 million of them in their territory, to try to carve out a Kurdish nation. We were the only thing keeping the Russians and Turks from attacking, this little American force. We were only big enough to keep the Russians from risking World War III and the Turks respecting a NATO ally and arms supplier. And suddenly the President pulls the plug. It was a terrible feeling.”

“I bet.”

“So, I’m getting pelted with shit on top of my HUMV, and all I can think is, ‘I agree with you – keep throwing.’ Then I get a call on my cell from Ahmed. He had heard what had happened. Before I could even apologize, he said, ‘Remember what I told you. Young men fight wars; old men make policies. I know you had no say in this. You are not responsible for a foolish leader. We have a saying, “Fear an ignorant man more than a lion.” I’m sorry it ends this way for now, but some day we will meet again, to drink tea in Amed, my town.’ That’s what the Kurds call Diyarbakir, the biggest Kurdish city of all, but it’s in Turkey. Where his parents were born. Ahmed had never been there – few Kurds outside Turkey ever have. I got choked up at his generosity. ‘What will you do?’ I asked him. ‘We have another saying: “If you are a hammer, be strong; if you are an anvil, be patient.” We have much experience of being an anvil, we Kurds.’ So,” Joe said. “That’s the story of my grievance with this President.”

Vaneida half-whistled.

“His last words were, ‘Remember. Watch “Lawrence of Arabia.”’ I told him I would. It took me a few months to get home and watch it. He was my Feisal. But I was a pretty poor Lawrence. Lawrence got driven out of his war in a staff car. I had to creep through a traffic jam in an armored vehicle, tearing up, ashamed, getting dung thrown on my head.

“That makes me want to watch it again.”

“I happen to have it here. But it’s incredibly long. And it’s still boxed up somewhere. But listen, I need to talk to you about something.”

“I was wondering when you would get to it.”

“Yes. That speech after the State of the Union…well, that response speech by the Representative, it really did something to me. Wow.”

“It was powerful. But she was just saying what we all believe, right?”

“Yes. Well, for me it was, maybe more. Maybe because this stuff is newer to me. But that speech, well, it connected. It sounded a lot like what the Kurds told me wanted. Liberty. Freedom from tyranny. An end to lies and oppression and hunger and… well, everything bad.”

“That makes sense. That it connected that way. I think that’s great.”

“But there’s more.” Joe sat down.

Vaneida sat down also.

“What?”

“The people I work for, I have not talked a lot about that.”

“The security job?”

“Yeah… well, yeah.”

“What do you need to tell me?”

Joe paused. Do I really need to tell her everything?

“Well, they are not the type of people who show up at SNRM events.”

“No?”

“Not a lot of SNRM people in the military, which is where my boss gets all his people.”

“Or veterans in SNRM. Which is why I’m glad to have you as part of the organization.”

“Well, the people I work for, they have connections to the President.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Pretty direct connections. Like, my boss meets with him often.”

“Huh,” Vaneida said, leaning back in her chair.

“He – my boss – has this organization, company, that has a lot of connections with both the military and government, and I think he gave a lot of money to the President for his campaigns. He’s a really rich guy.”

“So, what do you have to tell me?” Vaneida said, this time with a bit of an edge to her voice.

“Uh, well… SNRM seems to be on their radar.”

“Whose radar?”

“Both my boss’s radar, and the President’s. Or, at least, people who are in the government and work for the President. I doubt the President knows anything about SNRM. Or much of anything else,” Joe finished, glad to end on a note of denigration toward the President.

“I see,” said Vaneida. “What does ‘being on their radar’ mean, exactly?”

Joe took a breath, and chose a tack.

“I overheard some people talking about you and SNRM. And it sounds like they think that SNRM is a very dangerous organization.”

“Dangerous? How?”

“Like, subversive, potentially violent, extremist politically, terrorist links, foreign government links.”

“How in the hell did they get that idea?”

Joe exhaled.

“I have no idea. Obviously it’s nuts.”

“What did you say when they said that?”

“Nothing,” Joe said. Then he continued on his chosen path.

“Obviously I couldn’t exactly say, ‘Gosh, I’m a member, nothing to worry about.’”

“No, I guess not. So, what do I do?”

“Well, maybe there are things I could do. Maybe I could be like a double agent for them. As long as I am there, they wouldn’t try to infiltrate SNRM with anyone else, for one thing. And I could tell you what they are up to.”

Vaneida considered this for a moment.

“I… I guess I have an instinctive revulsion to dishonesty. I don’t know.”

“Well, I think they might have bad intentions toward SNRM. From what I heard, they really have some crazy ideas about it.”

“That’s kind of alarming. I almost feel like inviting them to a meeting.”

“I think that would be a really bad idea,” Joe said. “These guys only see what they want to see, and at the very best, they will see SNRM as an organization that poses a political threat to them. You know the kind of slime they are capable of generating against innocent parties they see as a threat. How about you let me find out what their plans are, to the extent I can, and inform you about them.”

“Doesn’t this place you in a rather awkward position?”

It sure does, Joe thought. “To an extent. But it’s one I’m kind of used to. We were trained in intelligence-type matters. This is a lot more straightforward than a lot of stuff I have had to do, to be honest.”

Vaneida was silent for a moment.

“Well, I don’t like the sound of it,” she said, finally. “I like to be above board at all times. And I don’t like you being exposed like this. And when you’re a double agent… don’t you end up being compromised on all sides, somehow?”

“I don’t know about that. I think as long as you know which side you are really committed to, then you’re okay.”

“Well, this is all new to me,” Vaneida said.

“One thing,” Joe said.

“What?” Vaneida said.

“Please don’t talk about this to Janice or Jenna. Or anyone else. That is probably the only way I could get in serious trouble here.”

Vaneida thought for a moment.

“Secrets from friends. Life is getting complicated.”

“I like them both. I really do. And I respect them. But if they know anything about this, not only I could get in trouble, but so could they. These guys don’t play.”

“I guess that makes sense. I won’t talk about this to anyone, then.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it. I’m glad I could get this off my chest. It’s been bothering me ever since…”

“Ever since you heard about it?”

“Yeah, ever since they were talking about you,” Joe lied. “I wanted to tell you right then.”

“Well, it’s getting late,” Vaneida said. “And you probably have to go.”

“I do. Thanks for giving me a heads-up. And for the tea. And the stories. You’ve had quite a life already. I feel like I’ve done nothing at all by comparison.”

“And yet somehow we met up, and ended up doing the same thing.”

“Sounds like there should be a Kurdish saying for that. ‘The donkey comes one mile, the hawk a thousand miles, but they drink from the same watering hole.”

“That’s pretty good. You should lead a militia movement.”

“Well, it sounds like your boss thinks I do,” Vaneida said. “What’s his name, by the way?”

“Uh,” Joe said, his mind racing, “Maxfield King.”

“I guess I should Google him.”

“Please don’t,” Joe said. “I mean, god knows how they are tracking you.”

“Well, that is disturbing,” Vaneida said.

“Yeah, sorry,” Joe said. “I’m not a cyber expert, but I try to be a little paranoid.”

“You’ve introduced me to a whole brave new world,” Vaneida said, not entirely happily.

Joe got up and stretched.

“I’m sorry if I’ve disturbed you. I didn’t mean to. Just wanted you to know. Thanks for coming here. You know,” he said, “I never had a sister. I think I missed out on something there.”

“I have a brother,” Vaneida said, “but I can safely say he was never feted by some emir in Kurdistan. Or was a double agent.”

“Well, you’ll know better next time you choose your family.”

“Well, maybe I’ll see you again next meeting,” Vaneida said.

“I never even got to talk to you about basketball,” Joe said.

“Did you play?”

“Nah. Just playground. A fan, though.”

“Well, I haven’t played in a long time. I doubt I could beat you.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Joe said, as he opened the door.

“Good night,” Vaneida said. “Thanks again.”

“See you soon. Stay safe.”

The door closed.

I have to tell her the real truth, Joe said to himself. I have to tell her or I’m just like the people who betrayed the Kurds.

But when?