The Good Guys

The 1st Sgt. is a huge man. He has what used to be called a crew cut, a thick neck and a slight limp. There is kindness in his eyes that dart everywhere while he talking to you. When he is sitting down his legs are always moving you feel the nervous energy unbound and relentless. You would have to be half crazy to fuck with him. There is too much of him. This is his seventh deployment. He has done time in Iraq and Afghanistan. War is his profession.
Sgt. Sugar looks like Woody Strode in the movies. He is 6’3’’ and moves with both power and grace. I first saw him shooting baskets outside the Red Cross office. He shoots the ball a little above his head his wrist cocked releasing the ball with a high arc. The ball sails through the hoop and you hear the crisp sound of the net snapping.
Big events are the basketball games on the broken concrete court. When the Sgt plays it is a man with boys. He drinks coffee with his sugar. He has both a calm and an interior ferocity. He is always measuring you with his eyes after your released he will give you an easy that’s cool smile.
Sgt. First Class is tall, lengthy and country. He could be Gary Cooper. He never raises his voice and has a naturally warmth. Like most of the soldiers with Task Force Bastogne he has been deployed multiple times. Somehow he kept a quality of innocence about him. How you do that is beyond my imagination.
SSGT. Ladyday is from the Caribbean islands. She handles the Red Cross messages that can flood into to TF Bastogne. She knows where all of her soldiers are at all times. She never gets testy over the messages. At the gym with her headphones on she sings Oletta Adams songs and swings her wide hips with an insouciant freedom.