I think about one of the guys I killed in Iraq. I’m an LT in the infantry. We needed to take down an radar station before the invasion. I snuck up and broke his neck. I’ve killed before, but never so close up and personal. And the thing is, when I saw his face- he was a kid. I know that by killing him I saved a lot of Americans by doing this. But everytime when I replay the image in my mind, it’s my little brother’s face (I am a father firgue to him).
And I don’t feel at all bad about the many other people I killed. Including the time when I slit somebody’s throat and was covered in blood for the rest of the mission.
And I feel bad about not caring.
