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Rated: ASR · Monologue · Biographical · #1420779
the thoughts of a war veteran
    Do you remember when the worst nightmares your mind had to offer were Jason, Freddy, Chucky, Michael, and all the other horror film "monsters" that Hollywood showed us?  I miss those days.  I miss the days when I could walk down the street without looking up to the rooftops, wondering if there was a real life monster there, waiting to take me out.  And truthfully, I miss the days when the sight of a dump truck did not fill my entire being with dread, and the sound of a car backfiring did not fill my underpants with crap.
    In the movies, the victims are always unsuspecting people just going about their daily lives when, out of no where they get a strange feeling that something is about to happen.  In real life, that feeling is not always present.  There are always warning signs, that much is true, however, sometimes the people who are just too damned stupid to catch those signs are not present.  The follow is a real life example of what I am referring to:
      14th day of September, 2006.  Just outside of Baghdad, Iraq, Charlie Battery, 4th Battalion, 27th Field Artillery was guarding a small power plant that supplied the city with it's electricity.  An Iraqi man pulled up to the entrance gate inside of a new dump truck, saying that he was there to work.  Since there were trucks that entered the plant, it was natural that the Staff Sergeant and Private First Class that were on duty at the gate did not suspect anything at first.  However, after the day was over, their own words and actions would show that the signs were indeed there.
      As the PFC searched the outside, and undercarrage of the vehicle, the driver asked if he could have a bottle of water.  When the Soldier handed him the bottle, he noticed that the Iraqi did not drink the water, but instead used it to clean his face and hands.  The Staff Sergeant was impressed by the workers clean clothing and nicely trimmed hair and beard.  All of these "little things" seemed unimportant at the time.  But, if you learn anything from what you are reading, it is the so called unimportant things that get people killed.
        The Soldiers proceeded to let the vehicle thru the check point, as their comrades were in formation before the change of shifts.  No one voice curiosities as a new dump truck parked on the other side of the twelve foot concrete barriers that proctected them as it was a normal occurance for them.  And they had faith in the Guards posted on the entrance.  A young Sergeant left the safety of the barrier so that she could walk over to the area that was set up for her to cook the days dinner for the Soldiers.  Since she was the only female on the outpost, everyone snuck a glance at her as she left.  That was the last time anyone ever saw the young Sergeant.
          In the blink of an eye, what was a quiet afternoon, turned into hell on Earth.  The dump truck was a vehicle born improvised explosive device, a car bomb, and it's driver a suicide bomber.  The explosion caused some of the twelve foot barriers to topple over onto Soldiers, while others were sent flying into the building where other Soldiers were sleeping or playing cards.  The young Sergeant's body was vaporized in an instant, leaving only a boot and a piece of a rifle behind.
          Two other Soldiers where killed during that explosion, one of which was a very close and personal friend.  The Soldiers that survived, were changed forever, and I admire them so much for everything that they went through, and how they rose to worse possible challenge.  And as angry as I am at the Staff Sergeant, Private First Class, the suicide bomber, and anyone else who failed to react to the signs, they are not the monsters of this day.  They are not the cause of my nightmares.  That honor is reserved for the Sergeant who took a desk job and stayed on the safety of Camp Liberty while his comrades paid the ultimate price in service to their country, and their world.  He is the man who failed to be there to protect the people that he served with, and the people he had come to care for as brothers and sisters. 
            The true monster on that September day was me.
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