The French Infantryman Stories : Worth it
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Hi again brothers and sisters. Even if the title changed, you might recognize me from my First Story, my Second Story, my Third Story, my Fourth Story, my Fifth Story, my Sixth Story (Pt.1), Sixth Story (Pt.2) and Seventh Story Once again, thank you for all your support. Writing is my therapy, you reading it is part of it. Thank you for your caring and loving comments. Merci beaucoup.
I’m French. I’m in the Army. I’m in the infantry and fucking proud of it. I do love embracing the suck and I always took everything with that « fuck it » mindset.
My military experience is what it is. It comes with happy memories, joyful moments, heart wrenching sights and shameful actions. It is just another life within my own life. Thankfully, it also comes with moments that fill me with pride.
Today's story is about a memory that gives me strength and gave me faith in humanity. Faith in people.
The dirt road is endless. A few turns but mostly a straight line that cuts through huge rocks formation, dry bushes and a few shepherd's territories. The sun is blocked out by sand in the atmosphere, there's a white grey veil everywhere you can look. Luminosity is intense and our breaths are heavy. Our truck goes smoothly in the endless valley.
Our mission, today, is to make contact with a convent and its nuns. They were sent in this war-torn region many years ago when it was still peaceful. A time I can't even imagine in this part of the world.
I grab a bottle of water in my backpack and let some of it drip on my face. The relief is instant but a few seconds later I regret it when I feel the wind and sand dry my face and lips. We have supplies for them. We bring them water, medicine, army rations, fruits and vegetables. There are also parts for their pick-up truck. I can't stop myself from thinking that I'm going into a religious place with weapons. What a weird world we live in.
The convent is located next to a road that crosses the country from North to South. This road is used by terrorists groups for resupply. Not really used for a combat purpose. Usually, they leave it untouched as we have an unspoken rule that says : "Don't fuck the peace here or we will fuck you up". We can fight everywhere they want but not on this road.
Our truck slow down and turn right on another dirt road with a wooden fence a little farther. The convent appears behind big trees and a surprisingly green landscape. It is an oasis. No one is outside and all the doors are closed behind black steel bars.
We begin to unload the truck from supplies and our gear. The driver put the truck facing the exit as to not lose time in case we need to get out of here quickly.
Meanwhile, an old nun comes outside. She greets us while looking for the steel door's keys. She has a sincere smile and a soft, yet, authoritative voice. She does not waste time telling us where to put our gear and supplies. She does take time to shake hands with each of us.
Everyone has a specific mission in our small group. One has to deal with the pick-up truck, another one has to help the nuns figure some IT issues with their one and only computer, some have to help carry some furniture around and other, like myself, pull-up security.
Everyone scramble and I give orders to my fire team to move into position. We try to do our job but we are cautious as to not make it like there's immediate danger. I tell them to be aware about where they sit and walk. We are in a religious place after all.
They are no believers in our group. I wouldn't call us atheists but we are not from any confession. Yet, I've always felt humbled by religious buildings and places. We are not in a cathedral or church like we can see in France. On the contrary, it is a really humble building with a simple wooden cross on top of it. I am humbled by the nuns that came here many years ago for things greater than them.
I wonder if they are that different from us.
I smoke a cigarette in front of the building, I watch the dirt road and let my thoughts run. I don't hear the nun coming behind me and I am startled. I try and hide my cigarette. I get red faced like I'm a kid who got caught smoking in his room. She laughs and tells me that it is fine but that I shouldn't do that to my body. She offers me a glass of water and I accept with an awkward smile.
She heads back to get me a glass of water and I observe her walking with her white and pale blue dress, her simple necklace made of a string and a wooden cross. She walks calmly, slowly like there's not a rush in the world. For some reason, it weirds me out and I go back to watch the dirt road.
I wonder what she must think of me.
She comes back a few moments later with two glass of water. She sits next to me and asks me about me. She tells me I can sit too if I want, I refuse telling her I need to watch the road. It is kind of a lie. I could see the road sitting but being close to her is too much for me.
I thank her for the water and I understand that she feels I'm uncomfortable. She laughs and tells me :
- "You know… Jesus wouldn't mind if you relaxed for a bit !"
I look at her not sure if I can laugh or not. I awkwardly laugh.
I am just a kid in full gear next to a nun that shares my French nationality. It makes me uncomfortable to have a fellow citizen with me. It is like she could judge me. Deployments is the space where no one can judge me. I do my work and that's about it. Not in the convent.
I shift the conversation and asks her when did she came into the convent. The Vatican sent her here around 10 years ago. She never went back to France since then. I am truly impressed. That is some serious dedication to a cause.
We talk a bit more about the region, where she comes from in France and if she plans to going back one day.
- "It went downhill about 3 years ago. This area was pretty safe but we saw the change. Your officer is actually talking with our elder about leaving the convent."
I keep talking to her because I wasn't aware about all of this. They had run-ins with Boko-Haram members, they are not as welcome as before. The population around here is converting to Islam, not sure if they are forced or not. I am impressed by how she is not angry about the situation. Islam isn't the problem here, extremism is and she makes sure I understand that. I do.
Soon, team leaders are called in for a briefing. I head inside with the nun, she guides me in the convent. We enter a dark room with a big wooden table. The eldest nun, that greeted us before, is sitting here, next to our squad leader. He waits for us to get confortable before talking :
- "Okay guys. So mission's changed. This convent is not safe anymore. Not for us, not for the nuns living here. Few weeks ago they got robbed at gunpoint. Things happened and one nun, unfortunately, lost her life. We don't have any official orders but as they are French citizens, we will get them out of here."
Fuck. She didn't tell me this. I look at the nun who brought me water. She gives me a sad smile. I feel so dumb for being so distant and self-centered on my own fucking emotions and questions.
I do find funny how my squad leader was particularly polite when talking to us. I'm not the only one that wants to put on a good impression for the nuns.
The eldest nuns wants to talk to the whole group. We arrange it to be near the front entrance so we can still have an eye on the dirt road.
- "My kids, your boss here said it, we have a problem here and I cannot ensure the safety of my people. Let's not sugarcoat it, some of us were raped, beaten and when some went to get help to the nearby village, they shot one in the back. She died. God bless her."
We are a bunch of non-believers in front of a nun who speaks the truth, harshly, without any detour. We are not sure how to respond and we are, again, little boys in front of a maternal figure.
So we are back to get our gear back in the truck, loading even more supplies and the personal items of the nuns. There's not much. We will be a bit squeezed in the truck but it's not a problem.
We are at the front entrance and laughing and one of our guys just jokingly says :
- "Well at least their God saved them. Wonder who will fucking save us hahaha !"
He takes a slap behind the skull by a teammate. The eldest nun is next to him and she heard it all. She looks at us and we just freeze and we are like little boys waiting for the punishment.
She doesn't smile, her eyes shift to each of us and she, calmly, says :
- "I don't care if you believe in God. We believe in you."
I vividly remember those words and I will for the rest of my life. People needed our help and we were here to provide it. A welcome change in our usual day to day activities.
When I feel a bit lost and wonder if it was all worth it, I think about the nuns.
When I look back on what I did, I saw, what my brothers and I experienced, I think about the nuns.
It was all worth it.
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