IRIS 3

Clerk tells me, "allowance out on patrol, 5 rupees a night. Teaching allowance, 2 rupees per day."
"That is an insult to the teaching profession. Surely they provide a service as valuable as a patroller."
Clerk doesn't have a ready answer, fetches Finance Officer.
FO steeples her fingers, puts on a professorial tone, "allowances make no attempt to measure contribution. It is a measure of hardship. Patrol is the hardship of sleeping out, less than regular mess food."
"What if I told you I find teaching more of a hardship than patrolling?"
FO rolls her eyes theatrically, as clerk coughs to cover up her laugh.
"Madam," FO says with a stern look, "take it up with the CO. Demand to patrol 5 days a week."
Clerk resumes, "allowance for the poetry reading, 2 rupees."
I can't help it anymore, burst into laughter. FO and clerk join in, as does everyone nearby.
As it dies out, clerk says, "check the addition and sign."
Wahida playfully punches me, "good show, did as good as the rest of us."

As I tell Nilofar of my adventure, she's shocked, "paid for reading poetry? Dis-gusting!"
I blush.
"Wanna keep any self-respect whatsoever, go donate that 2 rupees to Malalia Hospital." That's the unit charity of choice, for destitute women and girls.
"Wouldn't I look stupid, donating just 2 rupees?"
"It's a sealed box, Iris, sits on the secretary's desk. She always looks away, so as not to see how much people put in."
"Ok, I'll do it."

I've made my deposit, turn to leave. The secretary flashes a winning smile, "Lt, so very nice to see you. So few officers donate, most are into dope."
I blush hotly. Too late to throw in more now. Come back next week, donate 10.
Nilofar awaits me outside, "Iris you're blushing. She give you trouble? Hit on you?"
"She's not at fault. Just realized what an idiot I am. Gotta donate more next time."
Nilofar grins, "good thing she behaved. Else I go punch out her lights."
Oooo, is that jealousy? Sure sounds like it.
After this little encounter, I notice a subtle change. Nothing blatant, nothing you can argue with, but definitely sticks that much closer than before.

As I enter BOQ, Wahida drawls, "she ah lets you go to the can alone?"
"Thought it was just my imagination."
"Ain't friend. Whole unit is noticing. You're an old army type, know there's no secrets."
"Ye-ah."
"So she freaked when the secretary hit on you?"
I blush, "she didn't."
"Grow up, don't be an idiot. Myself and 2 other office staff saw it. Unanimous, 3 out of 3, said it was a hit."
"Oh."
She grins, "ever heard of James Michener, the author?"
I nod.
"Good, here's a story he told. During the Pacific War, World War 2, the Americans were on one particular island, the name escapes me. Wanted to build a runway suitable for the big bombers. Not enough manpower, went out and hired the tribe of headhunters. Within 2 weeks, they had em driving dump-trucks and bulldozers. Couldn't do the maintenance of course, Americans did that. So tell me the moral of that story."
"Technical skills are the easy ones to transfer. Cultural, lot harder. If they'd moved those same people to jobs and apartments in Detroit, they'd be 10 years adjusting."
She smiles, like a proud teacher whose student has aced the exam, "don't stop. Relate it to you here."
"Technical is patrolling and instructing verbal English, I do passable ok. Culturally, doubt if I'll ever fit."
"So ultimately, comes down to this. Long as you go out, patrol after patrol, half wondering if this time you hit the warp, get back to Ireland, you'll never fit. Gotta start by accepting it's history."
I blush, "thought I did that already."
"Mentally, yes. Emotionally, haven't even started."

Next day, as we roll through the evil moonscape, I see it different. Which cliff would be good?
As I play my binoculars across one, I feel Nilofar's hand on my shoulder, "don't even think it. And don't get outa my sight for one minute."
"Think what?" I ask innocently.
"Don't gimme that nonsense Iris, half the time I'm picking up your vibes."
Is that scary or what? Wonder what else she knows.
"Tonight Iris, sleep right up against the jeep. I'm next to you. You ain't going nowhere."
I blush, nod.

I'm a little later than usual arriving in BOQ, Nilofar and I had done some paper after supper.
There's wild frivolity as the girls discuss literature. I use the term loosely, Story of O.
It's way too early to go to bed, so I sit back, pretend to read the newsletter.
Zarmeena grins, "we could talk in circles forever. Instead, let's go to the source."
Ameena nods.
Zarmeena puts on a too-wide smile, "Iris, want your opinion."
"On what?"
"Don't be a moron, pretend you haven't heard. S&M of course. We want the westerner take."
"You realize of course I speak for only one westerner. Haven't asked the rest of the species."
This draws a huge laugh.
"Still, nuff stalling, your opinion, give."
Quietly I assert, "I cannot even in my wildest dreams imagine, fathom such people. Surely everyone on the whole planet already has enough paid and grief and suffering. Why look for more?"
With that, the 5'11" sultry sex-goddess Ameena simply picks me up. Hold me in her arms and starts in French-kissing.
I resist.
She pulls back just a bit, looks at me with those bedroom eyes. In a voice that sounds 30 seconds away from orgasm, "I'll tell you why. For high-voltage sex. Now you swing a paddle and I'm all yours. Worship you, give you anything you want in bed. How bout a weekend of smoking-hot sex in Married Quarters?"
It's a good acting job, but not good enough. See usually she looks at me like I'm a scrawny little disgrace to all of womankind.
I look around, see the faces. Obvious, she's got a bet. Get me for the weekend, she wins the bet.
At this exact moment, CO walks in, "oh ho, you 2 wanna key?"
"Yessss!" Ameena asserts.
"No," I state flatly.
I hear a loud chorus of disbelief, urging me to go for it.
"Last I checked," I reply primly, "I'm straight."
Ameena coos, "and so are we all. But don't think you'll ever get the chance. When in Rome."
Seeing my look, she sets me down, "ok, little one, play it your way. Play hard to get. Just makes the chase that much more fun." Absolutely wicked grin, "come on, admit it, you know you're tempted."
I blush, true, but I wouldn't admit that here.

As it turns out, next day's trip is a daytrip only, no camp out. Nilofar won't go, bad cramps. This is a third world place, very few drivers. Only other driver is in the brig, with a dozen others, following the big punchup with the MP's.
So it turns out I go on patrol alone. Only I don't patrol, just sit by a cliff, stare at it.
By now, I'm about one minute away from doing it. I don't imagine I have even one ounce of credibility with my sister officers after last night's events.
I stand near the edge, stare out to sea a long time.
And then, I leave. Got one friend here who'd be heartbroken if I did it.

I run into Nilofar in the mess, "so how are you feeling?"
"Bit better now," fixes a hard look on me, "stood there a long time, didn't you? Glad to see you made the right decision."
This is really scary. I blush hotly.
Kind smile, "Iris, get your stuff out of BOQ. Too many crazies in there. I booked us a room. Everyone knows you belong to me and I'm deathly tired of waiting for you to figure it out." Her smile robs it of any offence. She reaches out, takes my hands in hers, "so, glad you didn't jump?"
I nod, start to cry.