My name is Derrin Evans, this is the story of the last aviation mission I had before I flew to Germany and became a dom. Enjoy.
To "John" I miss you, man. Thank you for the stepladder, 2 fans, and the motorcycle you left me when I was homeless."
To "Amy" ...74473891. Everest. See you then.
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North Afghanistan, 2013. As a late birthday present, Operators "John" and "Amy" wake me up after my shift. They say they have a surprise for me.
We get to the terminal. John brings me into their compound, puts a badge around my neck, and then goes into detail as my eyes take in a mid-forties Middle Eastern male, with some very nice tribal style military threads on, sitting Indian style on top of 13 cargo strapped bundle crates. He has some makeshift upper body straight jacket made of kevlar. Apparently this guy put up some struggle with just regular cuffs.
He has a clean-cut tribal man bun with one string of red and white beads strung throughout it. His face is hardened leather, but his scars are soft and moisturized. Also has bandages around his left hand and right side of his neck. Recent trauma. His eyes are bloodshot jade-green hazel coals as he smiles at me with perfect white teeth. If the Cheshire cat was raised by Sadam Hussein, that's what this guy looked like. Even while bound, I felt as if we would to fight this guy at any moment.
John turns to me and in a mocking Pashtu accent, he says.."tell the first black man you see, I want to talk with them before we both go off to different prisons."
Now, Amy is a 6 foot German Olympic athlete looking amazon. We hooked up twice. I barely survived.
She brushes her hand past my cheek and pulls me close. "Make sure you eat your vegetables and brush your teeth when you're done playing with your friend. Ha Ha. The outbound flight got bumped, we escorted this guy to his cell. He s+++ in it. We aren't flying with that in the hold. Prep my weapons and gear while you chat?"
For the record guys, a military woman will appreciate you cleaning the house and her weapon, more than flowers. Experience talking here.
She hands me her sidearm, knowing I'm not allowed to touch it. Her husband doesn't even clean her weapon. She gets close again. "I promise I won't tell anyone if you strip it down and..." John puts Amy in a headlock. They head off to midnight chow. John is Amy's supposed brother-in-law. I can't deal with operators.
The other guards play spades on the cargo ramp as we wait for the water truck to clean the cell.
Then I hear his voice. If Jafar decided to lift weights instead of scepters, that's what his voice sounded like.
-----Side note - the convo was at least a couple hours. He understands advanced calculus, American history, and trajectory algorithms, why is this guy in chains. the following is just the ending highlight.
"Born in captivity.... and now you call yourself a warrior because your masters let you wear a uniform while killing other poor brown people. Heh...I can only respect a man when he is true to his nature." - Afghan Warlord
I felt the triple-layered sting in my neck. In one breath, this man just disrespected America, black history, my family, my military service, and my personal journey through racist/sexist America, and now he DARES to....
My hand moves into a fist and then it clicks. Everything my mother told me about staying away from white women at all costs (didn't work), keeping my head down (and hands seen) when I pass police, being home by sunset, giving 2-hour warning to when I am going to leave to or leave from somewhere, never travel alone, not travel outside of a certain radius (sounds like a plantation rule but whatever), and avoid stereotypical behavior.
I take a deep breath and I let go of my internal aggression (a tool born from my bloodline having to discard their personal pride and public dignity in order to survive) as I explain to him.....
"I forgive your ignorance."
He smirks. but as I continue, the smugness fades.
There is no industrial prison system here. He's only known OPEN warfare his whole life.
At most, the deepest plot was a government or two. He's never been raised in America. Seen MILLIONS of people placed in iron cages, fed and made to do legal slave labor across a country three times the size of his f'ing awareness. He's never lived in a world ruled by hyper-consumerism, contracts, and legal consequences.
I take a deep breath and I stand on the bottom of the ramp with him looking down at me.
"Statistically speaking, as a black American, I'm 13 times safer driving past your house here in your country, or fighting you (here in your homeland) than I am in any major city in America."
He doesn't ask if that bothers me. After years of racism, horror, and violence, most people get used to it. He speaks about destiny, how the world should be if people just... I respectfully interrupt.
"When I was born, my mother knew, at 18, I would be a soldier, a corpse, or a slave. I chose to be a soldier at 5. All my other friends are corpses or slaves. I signed a contract with the Army. I aim to finish it because it ensures my survival when I return to America."
2 minutes of silence. "Well...I have something for you in my jacket if you're stressed."
His shoulders slump and I walk off. I see Amy when I turn around, she has my food from the DFAC. I thanked her for the plate. And we haven't seen or spoken to each other since.
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I am writing this to give perspective...I just now realized...
My last night as a real soldier. Before all my heavy injuries. Alone and in private, I stood before a full moon, with miles of empty desert reflecting its light all around. I pulled the faded green duct tape pouch and pulled out 7 nuggets of Afghan Kush. I put a light up. There's blood on it. I remember the bandages. And....I get it now.
I smoked cannabis under a full moon in a warzone. The same cannabis had a verified warlords blood on it. Don't know how I feel about that. Because at the time, I was just an aviation file clerk. What kind of world puts people like us in these kinds of situations?
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If I'm going to continue to be a dom, what is the best way to portray these experiences to my future partners?
