Dreams and Promises
I just found out that one of the Iraqi Police (IP) guys that I used to work with at my last AO got himself killed.
The reason for the title of this post is this; he dreamed of being an artist. He was pretty good at it, and was going to Art classes at the University. Think about that for a minute. An Iraqi that was going to college to be an artist. If that doesn't tell you that we are doing something important over here, I don't know what will.
We worked together several days a week for a long time. He was probably one of the nicest local guys I had ever met. We traded items, I'd give him a D-ring (an item usually used in rappelling, used by us to attach items to our gear), he'd give me a set of "prayer beads" (plastic beads on a string). I'd give him a cigarette, he'd give me a soda. Little things.
I promised him that if he ever became a "big" artist and came to the States, I'd come to one of his shows. Being as I've never gone to an art showing, that the kind of promise I never expected to keep. But he appreciated the effort, and now I'll never know if he would have contacted me and let me know when and where his art was going to be appreciated.
He recently quit working with the IPs so he could concentrate on his studies. And no sooner did he leave work, than he gets killed by a cowardly bastard that didn't even have the guts to face my friend when he killed him.
That's the kind of people we face over here. Cowardly little f*cks that kill a person because they "Protect and Serve" (that's not the IP motto, but it does fit). Bastards that attack G.I.'s who are over here to help them. Ungrateful ballsacks that couldn't give a crap less about what has improved in their country, they want the "bad old days" back.
Mixed feelings, much? Yeah, I guess so. This place has the same problems as everywhere else in the world. Good people, bad people, it's all the same, everywhere you go.
I gotta go.
The reason for the title of this post is this; he dreamed of being an artist. He was pretty good at it, and was going to Art classes at the University. Think about that for a minute. An Iraqi that was going to college to be an artist. If that doesn't tell you that we are doing something important over here, I don't know what will.
We worked together several days a week for a long time. He was probably one of the nicest local guys I had ever met. We traded items, I'd give him a D-ring (an item usually used in rappelling, used by us to attach items to our gear), he'd give me a set of "prayer beads" (plastic beads on a string). I'd give him a cigarette, he'd give me a soda. Little things.
I promised him that if he ever became a "big" artist and came to the States, I'd come to one of his shows. Being as I've never gone to an art showing, that the kind of promise I never expected to keep. But he appreciated the effort, and now I'll never know if he would have contacted me and let me know when and where his art was going to be appreciated.
He recently quit working with the IPs so he could concentrate on his studies. And no sooner did he leave work, than he gets killed by a cowardly bastard that didn't even have the guts to face my friend when he killed him.
That's the kind of people we face over here. Cowardly little f*cks that kill a person because they "Protect and Serve" (that's not the IP motto, but it does fit). Bastards that attack G.I.'s who are over here to help them. Ungrateful ballsacks that couldn't give a crap less about what has improved in their country, they want the "bad old days" back.
Mixed feelings, much? Yeah, I guess so. This place has the same problems as everywhere else in the world. Good people, bad people, it's all the same, everywhere you go.
I gotta go.
posted by USGP at 2:20 PM
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