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Sunday, 18 March 2007
March 18, 2003

March 18, 2003
Critter

In the middle of the afternoon, I was dozing in a little hollow in the sand, my head on a sandbag in the shade of the maintenance deuce and a half.  Spec. Willie Cooke, who drove the medic track, and Spec. Emeka “Easy” Ezekwem, one of the mechanics, sat down beside me in the shade and began talking God and war. 

Easy: “We say, ‘The baby lion or lioness, it does not die in a strange land. If it must die, it must get to its own root, or house, to its own land to die. God knows why I am here. God has a purpose. You read that Bible, you see God’s promises.” ...

The word came that afternoon that it was time to break camp. GIs were breaking down the platoon tents.  We would sleep in, around or on the tracks that night.  The GIs worked into the night. Everything was going into the tracks. ...

Posted by Bill Faith on March 18, 2007 at 08:42 PM in Critter, Iraq, Islamism Delenda Est | Permalink

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