Tuesday, May 5, 2009

For whatever reason...

The Worst of It

He said that the majority of the time, the

average day to day, was like civilian life, a regular

9 to 5.  Occasional guard duty, but mostly working

on trucks.  Inside on a good day, out of the dust and sand,

otherwise you couldn’t leave your tools laying out, unless

you wanted 3rd degree burns on your

hands.  That was the worst of it, he said, the heat.

Day in, day out; 110, 120, in the shade.  But,

every once in a while (and here’s where his eyes became shaded and looked away) 

sometimes you saw other shit.  Like the time 

he was driving with a crew to some little town outside Baghdad and 

they saw a group of people on a huge pile of rubble up this side street, and 

from where they were it kinda looked like they were carrying rifles, and 

one of them had something else, but 

they couldn’t really tell, they might’ve just been carrying shovels or lumber 

(and some of ‘em looked pretty little, like fuckin’ kids) and 

they didn’t have orders to get any closer, but they called it in anyways, and 

they got the response back...

Light ‘em up.

So they did.

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