3.5★
“There was always something hedonistic about the International Zone in the aftermath of an attack. People drank more. Danced more. Shared other people’s beds. We had existential crises and bathed in the relief of being alive. We wanted to touch, feel, forget.”
The first part of the book, Pre-deployment, is a love story, and while I was interested in the circumstances in the IZ (we’re not taken into battle), it felt like a romance novel, and I considered quitting. The soldiers and civilian workers had the heightened senses of knowing their lives were at risk, so played hard when they could. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.
The book blurb outlines the situation, which, sadly, isn’t unusual: Girl meets boy in war zone, boy takes her ‘home’ to US and leaves her there while he goes back to Iraq, then returns, badly damaged.
English girl Emma tells the story of meeting American soldier Adam when he comes to the International Zone. She works there, assisting Iraqis who are applying for admission to the US to escape prosecution for working with, or for, the Americans. She loves the work, helping families who’ve already lost relatives to war.
But there were bombs and bomb warnings, and Hart did a credible job of describing the sudden terror when a warning would sound in the middle of a client interview. Emma is interviewing people who’ve been living unprotected from death threats that have been levelled against them, so they are even jumpier than she is. She has to draw their stories out, ask them to remember things as best they can so she can fill out their applications.
“. . . but for many the problem is that the memory becomes fragmented. For some it may splinter and for others it divides into delicate stretches of thread that are wound tightly together. They cannot reach one part of the thread without unravelling the part before. When you ask them ‘Who do you think killed your husband?’ they must first tell you about the food that their mother was cooking at the time, or the washing that their neighbour was hanging on the rooftop
. . .
If the erasure of traumatic memories is a coping mechanism, what happens when the experiences are brought to the surface again? Who helped to organise and fold and pack away the memories once I was done?”
Adam is a Special Forces soldier, also a trained medic, but we don’t see or hear much of his day-to-day. As they court, they spend their time on picnics and daydreaming about a future back in ‘real life’ where they aren’t risking their lives at work. They plan a normal life.
They marry and move to Fort Carson, near Colorado Springs in the US West, where the locals think Emma sounds like royalty. This is not home to her, but she does her best to fit in. Much is made of her making friends, but all too soon, Adam is set to deploy to Iraq, leaving her as an army wife with nothing to do and no purpose. Her father was a doctor, always helping people, and she is exactly like him. She can’t just sit still, but Adam wants her there, safe, protected, not back in Iraq where she knows she's needed.
The second part of the book is Deployment. He’s away, she’s in her new home – alone.
“People understand the difficult parts of war, or rather, they know that the bad bits must be beyond what they could ever imagine. But it is the good bits that confuse them. The reasons that we love it. That we miss it. That we keep going back. It is in the wistful looks of men and women who say ‘F**k, those days were awful, but damn they were the best.’ That is harder to explain. It is this feeling that bonds those of us who have been there and makes us different from those who have not.”
Emma understands Iraq, the culture, the people, and she speaks some Arabic. The American army wives don’t want to know about Iraq and are suspicious of refugees, some of whom live in Colorado Springs and to whom Emma naturally gravitates. People from Iraq are killing our soldiers, say the women. Emma feels more foreign than ever.
“It is safer to listen rather than talk with Penny. I do not talk about Iraq with her. I do not talk about the Iraqis I helped move to the States. To her, foreigners are a different species and she does not deal well with things she doesn’t understand. Iraq is a part of me that I switch off when I am with her.”
The third part of the book is Post-deployment, and I found it compelling reading. It’s not the individual characters I cared about so much as the circumstances. It is frightening to think what has been happening to generations of soldiers, probably since Vietnam. People come and go and come back and go back. Can’t live there, can’t stay put.
I have a hard time rating this one. Some parts feel a bit awkward and contrived, but others are well-written and excellent and feel very real. And it certainly asks the question, as with the escaping Iraqis who are trying to live with their buried memories, who will help the returned soldiers with theirs?
Thanks to NetGalley and Legend Press for the review copy from which I've quoted. It was shortlisted for the 2018 Costa First Novel Award.