As I waited for the bus this morning to Walter Reed Medical Center, I was grilled by a young soldier who is recuperating from an attack in Bagram, Afghanistan. He has a young wife and a beautiful little girl.
He asked where I had been injured, who I worked for, why I do what I do, what my chances are for recovery, what type of vehicle I was riding in, which unit I was embedded with, where I was taken, how long I was in a coma, etc.?
It is a conversation we have amongst ourselves over and over again. Often before breakfast. It is NOT a talk most Americans would be comfortable with. But it is something we do with an ease that comes from being part of an exclusive club. We talk about the most personal things as if we were discussing a biology lecture. Any University professor would be taken aback at how knowledgeable we are on everything from H-fixes to infections.
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2 comments:
Hi, you don't know me, but I've been reading your blogs. I find your usage of words fascinating. Thank you for sharing your story and your bravery. God bless! :^)
Thanks!
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