Free Soldier Girls by Helen Thorpe

There was nothing unusual about her behavior, Debbie felt—everybody she hung around with in the Guard consumed large amounts of alcohol. And she was never late for drill. Debbie was proud of her ability to put away a lot of liquor and still make it to wherever she needed to be. She jokingly called herself a lush, but what she meant by that term was that while she depended on alcohol, she could still function.
    By the time she reported to the armory in Bedford, four days after the two hijacked airplanes hit the Twin Towers, Debbie had clocked fourteen years with the National Guard—fourteen years of drill, fourteen years of being overlooked, fourteen years of drinking. When Bravo Company divided in response to the tremendous uncertainty around what the future might hold, her greatest concern was not if they would go to war, but whether she would be included. Maybe she would finallyget to participate in a meaningful cause, maybe her life’s path would head in a more fulfilling direction. Debbie hungered to join with a purpose larger than herself. She wanted to see the rest of the world—what lay beyond the blinking fireflies and plentiful cornfields of Indiana.
    At drill, Bravo Company’s first sergeant called the clamorous group to order. Chattering ceased and the part-time soldiers gathered into formation, lining up in rows in the battle dress uniforms they put on once a month. The first sergeant kept his remarks short. “We don’t know anything,” he said. “Expect changes in your training in the future.”

3
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Drill
    A T ABERDEEN PROVING Ground, jittery soldiers on high alert reported a rash of false alarms. There was a van on the post. Two strangers were spotted lurking behind a building. As ordered, Michelle Fischer rolled underneath military vehicles to look for anything suspicious. She had no idea what to deem suspicious, though—everything down there looked pretty strange. For weeks she had been looking forward to changing back into her Roxy hoodie and her Paris Blues jeans, which she was supposed to be able to do during her fifth week of training, but such privileges were abruptly rescinded—it was easier to spot an intruder if everybody else wore a uniform—and that was when Michelle began to apprehend that she might not get her civilian identity back again. How had she misplaced something so vital? The soldiers in training assumed they might be sent somewhere soon, but they could get no hard information. In this fashion, Michelle came to appreciate the enormousness of the commitment she had made to the military.
    Three days after the attacks, Congress passed a bill called the Authorization for Use of Military Force, giving George W. Bush broad powers of response. “The President is authorized to use all necessary and appropriate force against those nations, organizations, or persons he determines planned, authorized, committed, or aided the terrorist attacks that occurred on September 11, 2001, or harbored such organizations or persons, in order to prevent any future acts of international terrorism against the United States by such nations, organizations, or persons,”the bill declared. Everybody at Aberdeen seemed to think the bill was a good idea; apparently Michelle was the only person there who did not want to give Bush such leeway. Michelle had been temporarily categorized as “active duty” while in training, and now she heard a rumor that all active duty soldiers were going to remain on active status indefinitely, even if they had only signed up for a part-time role. Michelle got into fierce arguments over whether this was even legally possible. She was stunned to learn that the contract she had signed would allow the military to do pretty much anything if she was put on active duty. She was a GI now—it stood for “government issue”—and could be moved around as if she were a Humvee.
    One lone elected official had opposed