Casualty of War Part Xii

Writing Home I miss you. We’re getting ready to go On patrol. We drive up and down the village streets looking for insurgents. But they look just like villagers or the Police. Sometimes they will look just like the military. We can’t get too Close To the people. We can’t Trust too many. Any one of them can be an insurgent. It’s tiring. I just want to be home, back in your Arms. I want to help an old lady cross the street without looking for a Bomb. I want to kick a tin can in the gutter without it exploding and blowing my leg off. I want to ride a bus without a suicide bomber Killing all. I just want to be back home, in your Arms. Our unit leaves in six months. Six months and then I’ll be home. But for now I must go on Patrol.