Michael

I don’t want to talk about this, but considering current events, I’ll share something I saw in 2006 in Iraq. Understand that I hate discussing this. Not a single day goes by that I don’t think about it. One night our PL walks in the enlisted tent inside BIAP around 2300 and asks for volunteers. Being the crazy bastard I am, I immediately got up and began to put my armor on without saying a word. I grabbed the M249, a few extra belts, and some extra hand grenades and followed the LT to the motor pool where our M113 was waiting. We performed all our radio checks, fueled up, called in to HQ, and left the front gate. It was dark. Really dark. The air had an awful stench of burning trash and the water in the canals smelled of feces. A dead dog laid on the side of the road under a dimly lit street light outside the gate. It was very quiet. Like the world was dead. Perhaps it was in that moment. We proceeded to our objective. A small home with a humble adobe brick wall outside its perimeter with some very dim lights barely lighting up the courtyard. Out came a middle aged man, carrying a little girl who was screaming bloody murder. We brought her in the M113 where our medic immediately began to stabilize the wound on her right hand. Two of her fingers were missing just above the knuckle. She calmed down considerably once our medics took possession of her. We proceeded to take her back to BIAP to receiver proper treatment with the father riding along with us. I was pulling security with the M249 but I would occasionally glance back at the little girl who had a look of sorrow and desperation on her face. It felt routine but in some ways something wasn’t right. The following day, about a dozen 60mm mortars landed very close to our tents. Luckily nobody was hurt. We later learned that the father purposely cut his daughter’s fingers off so he could gain access to the FOB and collect intelligence. Not a single day goes by that I don’t see that little girls face. Not a day goes by that I don’t realize what that look was on the ride back. Not a single day goes by that I don’t wonder if she is still alive. Point is…never underestimate the lengths your enemy is willing to go to in order to destroy you. Never forget the innocents who are caught in the middle.