After seeing his roommate fatally wounded in a roadside bombing, an Army private wonders why the lives of good men are being lost when the Iraqis pose no threat to us and don't want us there. But HoJo Liarman's getting a 'deal' on sunglasses. Prob'ly, he'll pick up a rug or two for Hadassah?
...His face had been badly burned. His leg was horribly wounded. We placed him on a spine board and did our best to attempt "Buddy Aid". We heard him trying to gasp for air. He had a pulse and was breathing, but was not responsive. He was placed into a truck and rushed to the "Green Zone", where he died within the hour. His name was Michael K. Frank. He was 36 years old. He was a great friend of mine and a mentor to most of us younger soldiers here.
Now I am still here in this country wondering why, and having to pick up the pieces of what is left of my friend in our room. I would just like to know what is the true reason we are here? This country poses no threat to our own. So why must we waste the lives of good men on a country that does not give a damn about itself? Most of my friends here share my views, but do not have the courage to say anything.
There are some folks of my generation who once asked, and are still asking, similar questions, though I'd take exception to the claim (pretty standard fare in both the relevant conflicts) that Iraq (or Vietnam, in its time) "does not give a damn about itself."
Indeed, quite the opposite obtains--which is why your buddy's dead...