Fort Nabahood was located on the southwest side of Hackberry, Louisiana. The huge military base was built on the north side of Johnson Bayou. Fort Nabahood was constructed in 1942 in the middle of the Louisiana’s humid swamps to protect the southern part of the country from invasion during World War 2. Dangerous fearless alligators, deadly poisonous snakes, and many other loathsome creatures lived in the murky swamp waters of Johnson Bayou. These mosquito infested waters are also the home of the ferocious U. S. Army Ranger Covert Operations Division.

It had been about twenty-six hours since Jamal arrived on the large military base. The four-story brown brick building of C Company was built around 1968 to replace some older barracks that were destroyed by Hurricane Mary. However, because of the harsh swamp conditions and the humid temperatures, the old brick building had quickly aged. This co-ed building will be his home for the next few years or at least until he can save enough money to move off base.

The unit sergeant assigned him a large room at the end of the hall on the second floor. A dozen plain brown moving boxes littered the white vinyl tile floor of the room. A picture of his family hung on the white wall over his army issued gray metal twin bed. His black Dell laptop was plugged into the beige wall socket next to the small wooden antique roll-top desk. As Jamal finish unpacking his things, a breeze from the air conditioner slightly moved the sheer blue curtain by the only window in the room.

Tiny semi transparent waves of heat flickered from the hot brown brick windowsill. The summer on the concrete lined military base was extremely hot and humid. The temperature on an average summer day could quickly reach the three-digit mark. He reached over some unopened cardboard boxes to open the apartment-sized white refrigerator to get a Coca-Cola. The refrigerator was empty except for one half-empty bottle of tropical punch Gatorade.

‘You should have stopped by the store before you came to the room,’ He said aloud.

He was very hot and thirsty from the long drive from the airfield. He unpacked the last of his military field gear and stacked the empty cardboard boxes by the brown wooden door to his room. Jamal headed for the drink machine in the open recreational area of the coed barracks. During this time of the day, soldiers filled the room to watch television, shoot pool, or just lay around.

Jamal fished around in the faded pockets of his Levi’s 501 button fly jeans for some change, as he hastily strolled over to the large red Coca-Cola drink machine. After dropping six shiny quarters in the waiting drink machine, he carefully made his selection and waited for the cold drink to appear. It cost one dollar and fifty cents these days for a sixteen-ounce drink. Jamal could remember when it was a lot cheaper. That really was not to long ago.

A few seconds later, a cold clear plastic bottle tumbled into the opening. His hand reached in and retrieved his much-desired drink. Jamal held the cold wet bottle in his left hand and quick twisted open the cap with the other. He slowly brought the perspiring bottle to his open mouth and gladly felt the cold beverage drenching his parched throat. As he stood by the machine quenching his thirst, one very angry unit sergeant burst through the tan metal door of the barracks and saw him.

‘Private Walker, the captain has been looking for you. He want you in his office, like yesterday. What are you waiting for private? I said m. o. v. e, MOVE IT, MOVE IT,’ the angry unit sergeant loudly screamed at a startled Jamal.

Quickly, Jamal opened the tan door of the barracks and ran across the hot base. The captain’s office was located in the Special Ops building. It was built on a small hill overlooking the personnel building. The distance was about two clicks due west of the barracks. He decided to take a short cut through the green park where the soldiers played football. Running at top speed, Jamal reached the Special Operations building in about four minutes.