There are good days and bad days in life and none more so than in the life of a soldier. We live by an axiom that states that the only easy day was yesterday. Damn sure if that aint the truth. Sadly enough, you get to a point that you cant remember yesterday, so no easy day exists for you. Sometimes it is definitely clear that you dont want to remember yesterday because yesterday only reminds you that today sucks.
It is hard to hear about those two boys missing in Iraq. It could have easily been me as could I have been any of the over two thousand deaths. Sure as hell that I didnt wish and still do to some degree that I could change places with them. I could handle it better than some 20 something. Having lived this long, miraculously somehow, I know that I have achieved all that I can in this life time; it seems desperately unfair that those young men should lose their lives so soon. I am unfortunately certain that a video will surface about those two men. It sucks sometimes knowing the enemy well enough to know that they are inhuman. I am torn about the utility of our civilized way of war. I understand well that to garner the greatest amount of sympathy and cooperation for our noble cause that we must treat with and demonstrate civility. However, our enemies there see us no better than goats that they slaughter for their meals. It always got me to hear Americans speak, especially our hunter class. They use high powered scopes and bazookas to blast bambi into oblivion, but I dont consider them hunters. I have stood and fought next to men who have hunted and killed other men and I have heard their stories of torture. Those men are hunters and killers.
In essence, I felt and still feel great rage towards these people. Some days it is better than others. Along my trip out here, away from the safety of Fort Bragg and the constant drone of the war, I learned a painful lesson: so few want to know or care. The cries of indignation and the antics of our hired monkeys in Washington are nothing more than a sideshow to the war, which few seem to pay attention to. I listened -okay, eavesdropped- in on conversations at restaurants while the propaganda network, AKA FOX, silently beamed the stories out of Iraq to an unsympathetic crowd. Hushed conversations of meetings this, and market share that, mommy I want, why cant we go later, .fucking blah, blah, blahthe unwashed masses pissed me off. I wanted to scream and point at the TV and yell, WE ARE FUCKING DYING! CARE, CARE, CAREGive a damn about something besides your new BMW or your most recent acquisition. Even now tears stream down my checks.
I am part of that abomination. I have done and said things that were more go along to get along. I had to in order to ensure that my soldiers got what they needed. I lied, cheated, and stole to ensure that they were protected from harm as best that I could. I received a Letter of Reprimand for circumventing a direct order in order to procure more equipment for my men. The letter was universally seen as crap because my soldiers attested in sworn statements that the equipment that I had procured was directly responsible to their survival. I resigned the day I received it, but my resignation was not accepted. Later I found out that the reason the Letter was to be placed in my local file only as administrative punishment was because the Group feared that I may contact my congressman in order to complain, which would have shed light on the bullshit training and equipping practices of the Group. I stumbled and fell people. I am smaller because I accepted this reward for my service. It kills me to know that I have done this. After 13 years, it is hard to be proud of my accomplishments because I feel like a bought man. I am sorry America.
