'I am too much like them,' the kid-soldier thinks as he acts on his orders, brings up his M-16 and fires into the doorway. Civilians die. They die. Like his friends. He learns quick to feel as little as possible; has no idea how those unfelt moments will come back to him over the years as mental monsters, raging through his nightmares and waking him screaming in the night.
THOU SHALT NOT STEAL THE WRITINGS OF JOHN SCOTT RIDGWAY... YOU CAN EASILY GET PERMISSION FOR A NON COMMERCIAL REPRINT BY CONTACTING MY EMAIL.
Monday, October 31, 2005
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