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My cousin's best friend was visiting this weekend. He's back from Iraq, after serving for 6 months. He had a few days to visit the family, and then he went to Texas, where he is stationed. He was very upbeat, showing pictures of himself in Saddam's palace. But that's how he is now.
He was terrified when he first got called to report. He called my cousin from Iraq crying on the phone. He has a huge scar on his forehead. One of his responsibilities was to be a guard at one of the US made prisons, and while on the guard tower one of the prisoners threw a rock at him, hitting him on his forehead. I guess he is one of the 'lucky' ones, because he 'only' has a scar, none of his body parts are missing, and he is alive. But all those months there he wasn't so upbeat, when he called my cousin and cried (you're talking about a 20 year old kid who wrestled), cried because he was so scared patroling the streets, knowing that they are walking targets.
I get so mad all over again...why? For what reason do these kids go there and suffer? Yeah, all he got is a scar, but you can bet that he'll have nights when he will wake up in cold sweat remembering the patrols, and the prisoner throwing a rock at him. And like I said, sadly, he's one of the 'lucky' ones.
Thanks for listening...had to vent a bit. (Chances are, at the rate this morong is handling this war, poor kid is going to shipped back again, at this point he doesn't know).
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