April, 2025 AD
I remember it all, vividly…a traumatic moment I shall never forget.
It was only two days until the end of Phase V. I was following the footsteps of my father, a Green Beret legend for his exploits in Afghanistan and Iraq.
I was good at avoiding capture by the opposing force, called the OPFOR. Of course, nothing is totally predictable, and, I never expected betrayal…by my own team.
I should have known though…they were all part of a standing good ‘ole boy network…who dreaded the idea of a woman wearing the Green Beret.
Led into a dark abandon shack, a lantern flicked on. I saw that I was surrounded by no less than five men…none of whom looked very friendly, at all friendly…including the ones who were supposedly on my team, the ones who led me here on false pretense.
One of them grabbed me by the arm while another came at me with rope. With my free hand, a mistake on their part, I reared back and let the dude who held my wrist, have it just below his eye…I missed, because I was aiming for the full flesh of his nose.
This only angered him and with the help from a third guy, they both held my hands behind my back…pulling my arms together. That was only a little painful because I am quite flexible.
The guy with the rope approached me and said, “Time to teach you some manners, girly…”
I did not give him a chance to finish. With a grunt, I mustered my lower extremities with a full force of energy, and placed a well-aimed kicked, right where it counts. “How’s this for manners?” I yelled in the process.
“GAHH!” He screamed like a baby, and doubled over to the ground…clutching his groin.
I was in survival mode…my adrenaline running in high gear. The punks behind me released their grip, either out of shock, fear, or both…or so I would have hoped. I went immediately into a basic shallow standing martial arts squat and waited. In hindsight, it would have been better if I had bolted for the door…but I hesitated…and it was a costly mistake.
I felt a sharp sting from a solid impact behind my right leg, just above the knee, that sent me crashing to the ground.
“Aaaahhhh! GOD!” That really, really hurt. I turned quickly to see a buffoon standing over me with a baseball bat. Before I could react with my lightening quick speed, which was now hampered, another guy came out of nowhere and kicked me in the back…the momentum thrusting me forward into the guy with the bat. I must say, it was not pretty after that.
Both of these guys picked me up and tossed me against the back wall, away from the door. For the first time…in a long, long, time…I felt fear. Sweat poured down my cheeks.
I tried to jump up…I really did…but when I put weight on my right leg, I immediately dropped to the ground. It hurt that bad.
I was now a “sitting duck.” The next thing I knew, my body was taking punches from every angle…there must have been four or five guys landing blows.
At this point, I tried my best just to cover my head and face…while my arms, shoulders and back took the brunt force, at least initially. When I tried to protect my mid-section from savage kicking, I momentarily exposed my face, and like bees chasing a honey thief, they stung my exposed flesh.
Everything began fading to black when I heard one of them yell, “That’s enough boys. I don’t think she’ll try kicking us again. Bill; Mike, tie her to the post.”
I was too weak to resist the dirt bags from dragging me across the floor and then tying my hands above my head to a wooden beam or pole. I will never forget the amount of pain I was in…and I remember trying my best not to groan, because to me it was a sign of weakness.
There I was, hanging with my arms extending above my head when the leader walked up to me and rubbed his nose on my bloodstained cheek. I could barely see out of my left eye, which was nearly swollen shut.
“Quite a kick you have there little darling. I betcha you can’t do it again.” He stepped back and nodded to someone behind me, which I quickly surmised was the one holding the baseball bat, because he swung his blasted instrument of pain again, striking my other leg. I will never like the game of baseball again “Aaaahhhh! Aaaahhh—JESUS!” I could not keep from yelling…as much as I wanted to stifle my screams. I panted for air like a thirsty deer running from a hunter. I wanted to remain defiant…a bad habit of mine.
When I slurred, “You—yourr crazy!” through my gasping, blood squirted from my lip and shot a stream on the leader.
The men snickered. The leader swiped his arm across his face and then reached around me to grab the back of my hair. Then he yanked hard, forcing me to look up at the wooden beams.
“Oh really sweetie? We’re just getting started here.”
The others laughed like a pack of hyenas…going in for the kill.
“Wha—whadoyou want?” I choked.
“Want? Why, you of course. Just you—the first woman who is about to receive the Green Beret. All of us here want a piece of you—especially the one still rolling on the ground. Oh, he’ll get up soon enough.”
“Yorr—eevil! Buh—but my God is stronger!”
“Well darling, where is he now, hum?”
“Yu—yull see.”
“Hear that boys? Her God is going to come get us,” he mocked.
I managed a weak smirk while trying my best to stare back through my good eye.
“You see darlin’, in these high-stake games, we must make it as real as we can. Unfortunately, people sometimes do tend to get hurt. We want you to be fully prepared for the real world...of a true Green Beret.”
I closed my good eye…I could not stand the sight of him…plus, I wanted to pray that I could hold back the tears.
But, it was too late…I felt a drop roll down my cheek and I remember thinking, I hope it is a blood drop…but it wasn’t.
“Aw, look guys. Our little warrior is crying. Boo hoo.”
There was more laughter from the others. I heard one of them say, “Ray, you sure ‘bout all this? I think maybe…”
“Shut up Jimmy!”
“They never said anything abo…”
“I said, shut up Jimmy, or we’ll do something to you too.”
Oh, good, a slight glimmer of hope…maybe, I thought.
“You’re in our neck of the woods now, ‘lil darlin.’ Have you ever heard the saying, “What goes on in Vegas, stays in Vegas?”
I forced my drooping head up a little and glared at my assailant with the best look of defiance I had left. Forcing a slight grin, I spit out…with blood, “Nah—not Vegas half twit moron.”
I know, not the brightest thing to say under the circumstances. The dark-eyed man grabbed me by the chin, moved inches from my face, and hissed, “You’re very right about that sweet thing. Like I said before, you are in our neck of the woods now.”
Instinctively, I tried to move my legs.
“Aaaahhhh, ma—ma legs! I think you broke them!”
“Such a pity, and so close to the end of selection too. Guys, remove her foot gear.”
While someone was busily removing my boots and socks…not gently, I might add, the ringleader grabbed my belt that was holding up my trousers, pulled out a large Buck knife, and cut it off. Then in one swift motion, he yanked my trousers down…over my throbbing legs.
“AAHH! GAAH! Help me Jesus.”
Then it happened…just when I thought bad would get worse, I suddenly saw a blinding light shine through the whole shack and for a brief moment, I envisioned entering the gates of heaven. Then I heard the boisterous and life-saving sound of helicopter rotor blades. The voice over the loudspeaker blared, “ALL CLEAR!”
The next thing I know, a bunch of soldiers burst into the shack. I barely saw them, but the first guy stopped and was pointing a .9mm pistol at the ringleader. “Get away from her, PUNK!” he snarled.
The leader nodded and backed away from me. One of the men behind me, must have cut the rope because I dropped like a sack of potatoes with a thud. Somehow, I stayed conscious, but barely. I only heard voices now…wanting just to go to sleep.
“Just following orders, sir.”
Someone came over and covered me with a blanket or his shirt…or something. Thanks, I tried to say…but couldn’t speak. He checked my vital signs and I heard him say, “Captain, she’s in a bad way.”
The Captain yelled, “Help him out. Secure a clearing to land the bird… now!”
The soldier helping me stood up and I heard a commotion. Then I saw the ringleader fall beside me. He was bleeding profusely from his nose. Good, I thought.
Then I heard the Captain again. “I will pull this trigger if you take another step! Now drop that bat.”
I heard that horrible pain stick drop to the ground next to me.
One of the bad guys said, “You can report us if you want, Captain, but we were ordered to treat her under the pretense of what she'd receive if captured for real by an actual hostile.”
“Well, you bastards succeeded.” The Captain then spewed out a flow of words that would peel the paint of a wall.
The big soldier who rushed to my side cradled me in his arms, scooped me up, and rushed me to the awaiting chopper.
That was the last thing I remembered before slipping into darkness.