2006-12-06 11:58:09 ET|
Three more dead today.
One from my unit (as of right now).
I don't know who it is yet. The chaplain went over to where the guys who brought the body in are at. I didn't opt to go. I'd be lying if I didn't say I wasn't scared. Scared of the name he'll bring back. Somehow hoping that if he doesn't return -- it'll somehow reverse things. Though -- I know it won't change what has happened...
I used to think I was somehow privileged not to have dealt with much death in my life -- that all changed once I joined the Army. Its always the same -- you hear of someone got killed, and then you don't really want to hear the name. Sadly, you're somewhat more relieved when you don't know the person that well -- or want to bang your head on a wall and cry till you can't anymore when its a close friend. But -- I believe this is more relative -- because I know of those I don't know at all or too well have someone shedding tears non-stop for them.
Given my position/job I normally end up having to hear in intricate details about their deaths. Thus -- I get stuck with the mental image of my friends deaths. Then I get stuck with setting up the memorial ceremony and having large pictures of my friends look back at me -- realizing that I'm never going to see them again.
Though -- sadly, as a result I've become more calloused to death. It still hurts -- but the world doesn't stop. Even if you desperately wish it would.
The body is extremely resilient, yet extremely fragile. Life is truly a gift -- yet, I constantly wonder why I always find suicide within an arm length away.
Gah -- I'll end here before I find myself wandering on numerous tangents.
Simply -- I will not shed a tear for leaving the Army. I only have to stay alive 2 1/2 more months. Then I get the "normal" worries such a car crash, murder, hit by a vehicle, drug/alcohol overdose, etc.
Yeah -- cherish the time you have. Enjoy your friends and family. Life is far too short to get caught up on the petty shit. You never know if the friend you're talking to may be the last time you're able to speak.