A Death In The Family
Tonight, as I was returning to the coalition side of camp, Major Jaffre and an interpreter met me at the gate. The Iraqi major was quite uneasy. Through the interpreter, he informed me that the brother of one of my students had been killed today by insurgents. He needed to know if I would permit the student to return home.
So, tomorrow morning at 0500hrs, when we assemble the students, I will pull the young soldier aside and allow Major Jaffre to inform him that his brother is in the hospital and he needs to go home. Although I prefer telling the truth, Major Jaffre and the interpreter assured me that it is customary to lessen the shock of bad news; in this case by saying his brother is in the hospital. They told me that the soldier will know it is much worse than what he is being told.
Already my heart is breaking for this guy. He is a very nice guy. Just last night I walked with him and three other IA Lieutenants as they went from point to point on a 6 Km night land navigation exercise. I was impressed by their stealth and movement as I bumbled and stumbled across hundreds of old irrigation ditches and holes I could not see. It wasn't pitch black but I can't see at night anyway. These young officers cracked and joked with each other and took turns with the one compass and map sheet they had. As I observed, I would get so tickled listening to them argue and poke at one another each time we stopped at a point. After they'd had a cigarette they were ready to go and would quietly get their gear on and look to be sure I was with them. "Sadi, 1 Km and 100 and 75 meters, okay?" I'd say, "Hey man, you've got the map, let's go." They would just chuckle, knowing I was taking a beating. But it was their honor that the Mukadem was with their group. And I am honored to work with these young patriots.
As I left the interpreter and Major Jaffre at the check point, I asked myself how much longer will these people suffer. When will God remove this yoke that hangs around their necks, this blight that scars their land?
Later this evening, when I went back to get my clothes (it was laundry night for me and the laundry point is on the Iraqi side of camp) I crossed through CP1 again. As I entered the camp and handed my ID card to the gate guard, he handed me his last slice of orange. I swear. You see, he wanted to give me something and it was all he had. I ate it and the juice ran down my chin. It was very sweet.
Tonight, as I was returning to the coalition side of camp, Major Jaffre and an interpreter met me at the gate. The Iraqi major was quite uneasy. Through the interpreter, he informed me that the brother of one of my students had been killed today by insurgents. He needed to know if I would permit the student to return home.
So, tomorrow morning at 0500hrs, when we assemble the students, I will pull the young soldier aside and allow Major Jaffre to inform him that his brother is in the hospital and he needs to go home. Although I prefer telling the truth, Major Jaffre and the interpreter assured me that it is customary to lessen the shock of bad news; in this case by saying his brother is in the hospital. They told me that the soldier will know it is much worse than what he is being told.
Already my heart is breaking for this guy. He is a very nice guy. Just last night I walked with him and three other IA Lieutenants as they went from point to point on a 6 Km night land navigation exercise. I was impressed by their stealth and movement as I bumbled and stumbled across hundreds of old irrigation ditches and holes I could not see. It wasn't pitch black but I can't see at night anyway. These young officers cracked and joked with each other and took turns with the one compass and map sheet they had. As I observed, I would get so tickled listening to them argue and poke at one another each time we stopped at a point. After they'd had a cigarette they were ready to go and would quietly get their gear on and look to be sure I was with them. "Sadi, 1 Km and 100 and 75 meters, okay?" I'd say, "Hey man, you've got the map, let's go." They would just chuckle, knowing I was taking a beating. But it was their honor that the Mukadem was with their group. And I am honored to work with these young patriots.
As I left the interpreter and Major Jaffre at the check point, I asked myself how much longer will these people suffer. When will God remove this yoke that hangs around their necks, this blight that scars their land?
Later this evening, when I went back to get my clothes (it was laundry night for me and the laundry point is on the Iraqi side of camp) I crossed through CP1 again. As I entered the camp and handed my ID card to the gate guard, he handed me his last slice of orange. I swear. You see, he wanted to give me something and it was all he had. I ate it and the juice ran down my chin. It was very sweet.
posted by AWE, COL, USA | 11:02 AM
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