27 Sep 07
I'm running on the treadmill in the gym near the hospital, and Armed Forces Network is showing Dr. Zhivago. It's the original movie version with Omar Sharif. Too much wistful longing for my taste, but it's a decent war movie from a personal standpoint, which I think was Boris Pasternak's intention.
The scene I'm watching shows the Russians opening up the Gatlin gun on a bunch of white-clad "soldiers" running away. The weapon is quite effective and mows them down in no time. Off they go to survey the damage, only to find out it's a bunch of kids they shot up.
My oldest son is ten. He is awesome. Good looking, bright, fun, enthusiastic. He's good at sports and loves to draw. Tonight he told me about his campaign to run for school Secretary. Win or lose, he certainly has spent a lot of time preparing.
Back in the hospital now. I'm looking at an x-ray of feet. They are shot all to hell. But something is different.
It's a kid.
So, I walk down to the Emergency Room to find out what's up. Sure enough, there is a ten year old Iraqi kid looking scared to death. He's got bandages everywhere and our medics and docs are doing their usual outstanding job taking care of him. One of the docs comes over to tell me the rest of the story.
Our soldiers shot him. A lot. They caught him red-handed placing an Improvised Explosive Device (IED).