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It’s almost funny how it all started. I’d been with the 81st Airborne in vehicle maintenance for almost 6- months before our unit was sent to Iraq. Being one of only one hundred women in a battalion of over 5000 men had both advantages and disadvantages and I was getting used to both.
I was committed to making my career in the Army and this was my big chance to prove myself. Being in a combat area, even if I wasn’t a front line trooper, was a scary thing. Originally there were two women in our 6-person squad. My friend Carla was killed by a roadside bomb when transporting a vehicle to a small town, south of Baghdad. When they transferred her replacement in, it was a guy, so I was the only female in the squad and so now there was no one that I could really talk to any more.
I’m not saying that I didn’t get along with the guys in my squad because I did. As I write this, I can safely say that we’re pretty close, and as my story unfolds you’ll understand exactly what I mean.
After Carla was killed I became even more afraid of the hostile citizens of Iraq. I have a light completion and almost white-blonde hair, which makes me, stand out like a beacon. Being a female in the military makes the indigenous males stare whenever I’m out in public.
