Faces of War

There are many faces of war. Some are seen daily, on the news. Others remain hidden from view. They range far and wide. The toothless old man fighting to save his home, a one room mud hut and an acre of parched sandy soil. The beautiful young woman with long thick, flowing hair and eyes of green, a belt of explosives wired to a cell phone that she carries diligently. The zestful young man who, along with his friends, attacks a lonely guard tower late one night, all in the name of Allah. The small, naked toddler playing in the water filled bomb crater, oblivious to the danger. A previously innocent twelve year old boy armed with a rifle, four bullets, and decades of hatred for the infidels passed down multiple generations, takes a stand against a well trained soldier. The innocent bystander on his morning commute, caught in the crossfire. I carry these faces in the back of my mind. They are etched in my memory by smoke and blood, incinerated onto my soul like the flames that stole their lives.