Dark Chronicles of Nooria 10

I begin, "first choice, join the French Foreign Legion; second, join up here."
"FFL doesn't take girls," derogatory emphasis on "girls".
"Everything changes, sarge, in a few years they will."
"Stand up. No, I mean stand up straight. So girls, look at this tiny little person. Who all thinks she'll make the size requirement?"
Loud chorus, mostly saying I won't.
"Shows what you know," I assert, "only God knows that, not you."
"Well now, I stand corrected, quite true. Sit and we'll talk bout it some more. FFL sounds lotsa fun. French citizenship, decent salary, don't hafta share cigarettes back and forth like here. Good coffee, dark. Buy one of them neat motor scooters. Travel all about, not stuck in one place like us. But best of all, get you a guy. Everyone knows they lots less trouble than women."
I must look aghast, "I heard otherwise. Every woman I ever heard talk says how bad they are."
Second one explains, "now you see Nooria, everyone in the whole world lies to each other. Men, go to work, lie to their buddies, say they're boss at home. Not true, any woman with an ounce of brains can lead em round like a little pet puppy; just hafta know how to ask." Ripples of laughter, "now the women, reason they lie, impress their friends. See, if you say your husband is real ordinary, nothing to brag about. Paint him up as the worst sinner on earth, and you look cool, real bad dude like that, you can outsmart. Heck, everyone on earth knows all this Nooria, except for you."
"I'm afraid that's outside my experience, sarge."
Second one replies, "right, and I can even tell why. Real heavy Corridor accent you got. Up there, struggle for survival, people just don't have time or energy for all the fun games."
First one seems even helpful, "better listen up, Nooria, see what if you don't grow big enough for FFL. Stuck here, hafta know all this stuff, jealous girlfriends, dope, stabbings and such."
"Sarge when I grow up, I'll live alone, less trouble."
Loud howls of laughter, second one grins, "easy for you to say. None of them hormones yet. Few years, you'll find out, in spades."
It musta been just a careless slip, "so if she stabs you? Aren't you better off?"
I see sad looks all around, they've figured I'm one of the suicide watchees.
First sarge looks sad, "kid we all just look out for each other. Only way you stay alive. Alone too much, you'll kill yourself. So, need friends and need a Friend, no option."
I gulp, "but sarge, what if you just can't fit? Mental problems or such?"
Second sarge sounds helpful, "come on Nooria, just look around. You're still new, haven't seen yet. Everyone in this whole place is nuts. And I mean everyone. So, there's always someone for you," wicked grin, "even if she does have a knife."
"Sarge why is there stabbing and such? Girls barracks peaceful, not even fistfights."
"Kid, once them hormones kick in, you'll understand. Jealousy with a capital J."
"But why sarge? Why jealousy?"
"In a marriage in the outside world, husband and wife each have their own circle of friends. He lies to his, she lies to hers, takes off the pressure. Here different. See in a little town the mens gossip circle and the womens one doesn't cross. Here, no secrets, everyone knows everyone else's business."
"Maybe I'll be lucky, not hafta grow up."
"Kiss goodbye to that idea, kid. So easy before, just fall offa mountain or starve. Here, no one dies, good chow, good medical care, and people like Arifa to watch over you."
Arifa nudges me, yeah, time to go, thank heaven.
First sarge casts a solemn look, "no you don't run away. No secrets in a place like this. We've heard the story maybe fourth hand, gets garbled. We want it."
"Which story, sarge?"
"Which story?" she mimics my accent, "come on, you know what we want, the dream, the mega Jew kill."
I look around, see total agreement. What can I do? I'm nervous admitting to being an officer. I need not be, their disdain is probably limited to their own officers.
I pause at the point of taking command of Police Battalion 83.
"No way kid, you don't jam out, give the Readers Digest condensed version. We want all."
I look around, see total agreement.
I start with the clown show at Jozefow. Several ops that followed as we gradually got more professional. And then the six week orgy of one op leading straight to another. Arguably the biggest toughest meanest killing streak in history. To that point in 1942 anyhow.
I end on a sour note, my capture by communist forces and execution.
Second sarge breaks the silence hanging in the air, "call a vote girls." I look, see every thumb up. "Congratulations Nooria, you're welcome here. Come anytime Arifa brings you, can't come alone of course."
Arifa takes my hand and we leave. She chuckles, "how bout that? You saw how hypnotized Amina was. Like she was there."
Without thinking I reply, "she was."
Gasp, "you mean in the dream. Well, in the dream, who was she?"
"Leutnant Peter Boppert, acting commander of 3rd Company."
Arifa laughs, "no wonder she dislikes officers so much."
We both laugh.
"You ah suppose Nooria, it's maybe just a little more than a dream?"
"Could be."
"How long you had that dream?"
"Every month or so since age six."
"Now that is curious. Same amount of detail?"
"Oh yes."
"Wonder how many other six-year-old girls have dreams that detailed? That graphic? One in a million, if that."
Just before we arrive at B14, she says quietly, "gonna do it, take you every week or so. Give Shauzia a break from guard duty and teach you bout us. You ain't never gonna grow big enough for the Legion." Then she breaks out laughing.
"What's so funny?"
"Irony, my friend, irony. You go from leader of a contingent of crazy homicidal maniac killers to leader of a contingent of crazy homicidal do-gooders."
"I do?"
"Sure, no doubt you're an officer, English that good."
"Arifa, do you believe I was really there?"
For answer she ruffles my hair, "kid, ask every girl here to detail a dream. You actually think one of them 2,000 will have that much detail? Dates, places, names. Dreams just aren't that way, more vague. Now you be honest with me. None of your officer type BS. How did you really feel DURING Jozefow?"
I blush ferociously, "we-ell, ..."

Two days later, Shauzia and I have just returned from afternoon class. Arifa sits next to me, "Thursday, you're going on a trip."
I raise an eyebrow.
"Yep," huge grin, "out on patrol, matter of fact. Now don't go getting any ideas. We don't trust you with an AK47. You're a tourist only."
"Tourist?"
"This here island chain belongs to France. They don't use it, let us do, give us some aid money. Part of agreement, we patrol, observe no one else is landing. So Thursday is a one-day trip. I'll take you for breakfast with Amina, you go from there."
"Amina?"
"Yeah, 2 jeeps, 6 people. She's sarge on one, there's a Lt on the other."
"So why they need me? Thing my ugliness would scare away invaders?"
Ruffles my hair, grins, "nah. Much as possible, we try to cater for individual member-student contact. Good influence, teaches girls a lot. Also make the patrol behave. Gotta be goody-goody when the little girl tags along."
"As in no dope?"
Ruffles my hair, "catch on quicker nowadays, than when you first came."
"So Amina asked for me to go?"
"Sure, how else would it happen? So enjoy the ride, listen to the conversation, learn. Change from watching your jailer alla time."
I blush, "you didn't tell her?"
"Come on Nooria, had to. She hasta know, so you don't wander away, have an accident."

I join the huge group of sgt's for breakfast. As we're done, Amina says quietly, "go to the can."
I know what she means, doesn't wanta endlessly follow me behind the rocks.
We go to the motor pool. "Now this here Parvana, she's the boss. I mean the pretend boss, I'm the real one. For a Lt she ain't too bad. And this, our little juvenile delinquent Nooria, princess of the cannibals."
Parvana grins, hugs me.