Today
Today is 11 September. Today is the third day in a row I've had to watch someone die.
Even though it makes perfect sense, I don't understand it. I've seen more blood and death in the last month at this hospital than I have in all the rest of the time I've spent deployed.
I searched houses in the tip of the Sunni Triangle in Iraq.
The Iraqis served me orange soda.
I drove like a madman through the streets of Kabul.
It may as well have been Amarillo.
I strolled through mountain villages in the Panjshir Valley, the most dangerous place in Afghanistan for the Taliban and the Soviets.
I was greeted with smiles.
But then I came to Bagram Airfield in Afghanistan. BAF, with all of its bullshit rules and regulations, a place so far removed from the conflict that I could swear I'm at Boy Scout camp. Except I keep finding myself literally praying that the human being lying in front of me won't wind up in a rubberized black bag like the others.
Tomorrow is 12 September. I have the day off. I'm hoping I won't have to watch anybody die.
Even though it makes perfect sense, I don't understand it. I've seen more blood and death in the last month at this hospital than I have in all the rest of the time I've spent deployed.
I searched houses in the tip of the Sunni Triangle in Iraq.
The Iraqis served me orange soda.
I drove like a madman through the streets of Kabul.
It may as well have been Amarillo.
I strolled through mountain villages in the Panjshir Valley, the most dangerous place in Afghanistan for the Taliban and the Soviets.
I was greeted with smiles.
But then I came to Bagram Airfield in Afghanistan. BAF, with all of its bullshit rules and regulations, a place so far removed from the conflict that I could swear I'm at Boy Scout camp. Except I keep finding myself literally praying that the human being lying in front of me won't wind up in a rubberized black bag like the others.
Tomorrow is 12 September. I have the day off. I'm hoping I won't have to watch anybody die.