Hi, Guest
Good friend of mine just got back a little while ago from that god-forsaken region of Earth. Some of the soldiers are put on guard duty wherever they post up. Now travelling with certain platoons there is an interpreter to help communicate with the locals (this will play a part in the story shortly).
These animals (and I use the term loosely) strap bombs to kids on bicycles and they ride up to unknowing soldiers and these guys set them off remotely killing anybody in the vicinity. Now certain rules stipulate (with marked signs in various languages) locals are not allowed to approach the base entrance without some sort of permission. Well one night a young boy on a bicycle was riding past up and down the dirt road in front of my buddy and the interpreter. Both of them were un-easy about the situation because the little boy did not pass the "threshold" or the painted yellow lines in front of the base entrance.
Well that young boy got a little more courageous and started riding up towards my friend. The interpreter started screaming @ the boy in their local dialect to stop and turn around. He ignored the warning and kept proceeding, after a couple more attempts from the interpreter, my buddy figured it was him or them, raised his weapon and pulled the trigger!!!
NOTHING!!!!, The gun had jammed even though he cleaned it a few hours earlier before his "watch" started. The little boy on the bike wanted to give my friend some chocolate, and nothing more. Whispered into my friends ear in the broken english that the kid knew of "please mister take me back to Canada so I can play".
The interpreter told the boy not to do what he did for future safety's sake and shoo'd him off. On later inspection it turned out that, that one bullet that was in the chamber of his gun was faulty and the rest were in satisfactory condition. He basically broke down, was relieved of his duty for the evening, pondering how he ended up out there.
I've grown up with him, when he came back, I noticed a change, a dark change. I don't know what he's seen, I don't know what he's done, BUT I don't want to know. His platton is up in Petawawa right now, on stand-by, he might be going out to Manitoba to help with the flood relief, a much subtler change than the environment he came from.
I don't take any credit for any frontline heroism blah blah blah, working at the airport I've had the distinct honor of loading/offloading the bodies of fallen soldiers that have come through there. Believe me, military funeral processions on the ramp are not the easiest ones to stomach.
My heart & best wishes go out to ALL our beloved soldiers for a speedy return home.
P.S sorry for the long story.
These animals (and I use the term loosely) strap bombs to kids on bicycles and they ride up to unknowing soldiers and these guys set them off remotely killing anybody in the vicinity. Now certain rules stipulate (with marked signs in various languages) locals are not allowed to approach the base entrance without some sort of permission. Well one night a young boy on a bicycle was riding past up and down the dirt road in front of my buddy and the interpreter. Both of them were un-easy about the situation because the little boy did not pass the "threshold" or the painted yellow lines in front of the base entrance.
Well that young boy got a little more courageous and started riding up towards my friend. The interpreter started screaming @ the boy in their local dialect to stop and turn around. He ignored the warning and kept proceeding, after a couple more attempts from the interpreter, my buddy figured it was him or them, raised his weapon and pulled the trigger!!!
NOTHING!!!!, The gun had jammed even though he cleaned it a few hours earlier before his "watch" started. The little boy on the bike wanted to give my friend some chocolate, and nothing more. Whispered into my friends ear in the broken english that the kid knew of "please mister take me back to Canada so I can play".
The interpreter told the boy not to do what he did for future safety's sake and shoo'd him off. On later inspection it turned out that, that one bullet that was in the chamber of his gun was faulty and the rest were in satisfactory condition. He basically broke down, was relieved of his duty for the evening, pondering how he ended up out there.
I've grown up with him, when he came back, I noticed a change, a dark change. I don't know what he's seen, I don't know what he's done, BUT I don't want to know. His platton is up in Petawawa right now, on stand-by, he might be going out to Manitoba to help with the flood relief, a much subtler change than the environment he came from.
I don't take any credit for any frontline heroism blah blah blah, working at the airport I've had the distinct honor of loading/offloading the bodies of fallen soldiers that have come through there. Believe me, military funeral processions on the ramp are not the easiest ones to stomach.
My heart & best wishes go out to ALL our beloved soldiers for a speedy return home.
P.S sorry for the long story.