17 October 2008

By Request

Right. In a few days I leave Iraq. In a few days I will leave a chapter of my life behind. It has been a very long 15 months. I need to clear something up.
Iraq was fine. Iraq bothered me sure. Kind of like a gnat. It was an annoyance. I laughed a lot. I worked with some great people. I did some great things. I am glad I did it. That said I am looking forward to December 15th when I leave the Army for good.
I come here, when I can, and I complain. I come here to vent. I use certain mediums in my life to vent and place things in perspective. So please know that I am fine. I feel great. My mind is sharp. My smile is bright. My hands are hard. I really cannot complain.
I had a hard couple months, but that was more over some broad than it was Iraq. Iraq just added to it. See, in Iraq, you never leave your head. That is sometimes a dangerous place to be. My mind is more dangerous than Iraq ever was.
So if you came here to worry about some guy in Iraq. Sorry to have wasted your time. I never needed or asked for your worry. If that sounds harsh or unappreciative, I apologize but it is true.
I earned a few awards being here. I made some money. I blew up a lot of houses. I blew up a lot of shit.
Iraq is stupid. We have no business being here. None. It is the fleecing of America right here. I will have to answer for that in my own time. I know that to be true. I also know that I myself, saved one dog’s life, created 137 jobs, supervised the construction of one Pepsi plant, dropped so many bombs I cannot even remember them all and saved one little orphan girl’s life. I will leave her in a few days. She won’t. She has to stay.
I do not know what I will do next. I know I will go back to the soul-sucking hell known as Army garrison life. I know I fear garrison more than I fear anything in Iraq. I HATE garrison life. I know that once I leave Iraq, I will be in Kuwait for a few days. I know I have a number of days of debriefings I must attend. I know I will out-process the Army and I know that by 15 December 2008, I will just be Yossarian. Not Captain Yossarian. Not Sir. Just Yossarian.
I do not know where I will work. I don’t know whom I will bone. I don't know if anyone wants to hear these stories I have. I don't know if my car still runs. I don’t know how much I can drink. I don’t know if anyone wants to see me. I don’t know when I fly to the States. I don’t even know if I really want to live there anymore. But I do know this.
I know that no matter how old that little Iraqi girl is when she dies, she will always know that she lived because of me, the green-eyed devil.