I will always love you, he said, his voice echoing off the rocks.
Right after he spoke these words, the creek water began to bubble as if it were rising to a boil. The water turned cloudy with mud and began to rise around her feet and ankles. A flash flood. Hurriedly she began to fight her way to higher ground, grabbing at shrubs and vines. Suddenly she was startled by a voice from above:
“Climb up here quick, the creek is flooding!”
It was a young soldier. He pulled her up into the fork of a tree where he’d taken shelter. Together they huddled there as the rain grew heavier.
“You must be from the armory,” the young soldier said. “I’m with T10.”
But they didn’t talk much beyond this because soon the air was filled with the sounds of C130 Hercules planes. The flooded jungle began to tremble as gunfire and explosions rang out all around them.
“Don’t worry,” the soldier said, covering her with his body so she wouldn’t be hit by any shrapnel.
Gunfire tore at the tree, scattering bits of bark all around them. She could feel him pushing against her. His breath felt warm in her hair. She thought back to the feeling she’d had that night on the roof of her school. Without hesitating, she pulled the soldier’s head down onto her chest. She had already considered giving her virginity to him when the gunshots started. Actually the thought had occurred to her earlier than that, when she first walked down to the creek that morning.
She didn’t hesitate; she knew they could be killed at any second. He was so young.
Silently, she said a kind of prayer: Please accept this small gesture so that you can become a man and will never have to regret such a simple, unfulfilled desire if you happen to lose your life in this cruel war.
The soldier seemed a bit confused at first, but then he understood. Tremblingly he pushed his body against hers. He seemed suddenly lost in complete happiness. She held her breath and tried to enjoy the moment as long as possible. She felt it was her responsibility to share in his desire. Pure happiness. The blood ran warm in her body. The rain stopped. The floodwaters subsided. The guns went silent. There were no longer any signs of planes in the sky above them.
Afterward, time seemed to cease to exist. She felt completely satisfied. Later, when she would offer her body to other young soldiers so that they could become men, she would experience the same sense of total satisfaction and happiness as she had during this first encounter.
The young soldier was so moved by what she had done for him that he began to cry. He tried to speak, but she quieted him and gently caressed his hair.
“Please don’t cry,” she said. “Men don’t cry.”
“I will never forget you,” the soldier said.
“You don’t have to remember me,” she said. “I’m very happy just like this.”
Her satisfaction made her unusually confident. She wasn’t bothered by her comrades’ criticism of what she did. On the contrary, she felt content. She silently welcomed this unavoidable anger and didn’t try to defend herself or justify her actions.
My comrades, this is a decision I have made by myself. I am responsible for everything.
The soldiers left her with little keepsakes—a pen, a photograph that had an address scribbled on the back, the pink flattened petals of a dried flower, a comb made from salvaged airplane metal, and a silver ring that was supposed to prevent her from catching a cold. There was a face behind each item. And who among them had died?
She put her hands against her swollen belly. The baby was kicking.
She was going to become a mother. Her breasts had started to become fuller. She felt an unfamiliar warmth all over her body. She felt as if her soul were expanding. Whenever she was alone, she quietly sang lullabies to her baby. She wanted it to be a boy who would look like his father.
As she sat up late one night in the tunnel, stitching clothes for her unborn child, a shadow suddenly appeared in the entryway. It was a man. He aimed his flashlight directly at her. She brought her hands up to her face to block the harsh light. She recognized the man—he was an older soldier in her unit. She knew that he’d been wanting to sleep with her for a long time, but she kept refusing him.
His voice sounded shrill, almost like a shriek, when he spoke.
“Haven’t you heard?” he said. “The bombing yesterday killed eight of our comrades. And you’re sitting down here stitching clothes for your baby? You should be ashamed!”
She stood up immediately. She wouldn’t let anyone insult her child.
He ran the flashlight up and down her body. She had the sense that something bad was going to happen and turned away. The older soldier was breathing heavily as he moved toward her.
“Please,” she said, as he pressed closer to her. “Don’t humiliate my baby. Be respectful of the other soldiers. Some of them have already died. Let their souls rest in peace.”
She couldn’t find more words. Her voice felt weak, like she was in a daze.
The soldier pushed her against the ground. She fought back as best she could. She sat up and pulled an AK-47 from the wall, but it was no use. He was too strong and pushed her back down again, even more violently this time. She had never experienced pain like this.
It’s over now, she thought. My baby, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.
She had no real sense of direction as she ran afterward in the dark through the jungle. But finally she arrived at the creek. It was early morning. The water was covered with a silvery mist. It enveloped her body as she stepped into the creek. For a moment she stood motionless like
