Thursday, November 04, 2004
The Damage Done - photo essay of American soldiers back from Iraq
Here's the story of one injured soldier:
I remember every detail about my legs. Every detail from the scars to the ingrown toenails to the birthmarks to the burn marks. I made it a habit, even before I joined the military, to cherish every part of my body, because I would always look at it like, "What if this finger was gone, would I be able to function without it?" I don't know why. Maybe it was God's way of preparing me for what was going to happen.
I've always thought about death—just growing up in Chicago and living out here in this world. I had a friend when I was six years old, his name was Charles. He was shot in the head—I think it was a stray bullet. My oldest sister was killed by a stray bullet when I was just a couple of months old, and my father was killed when I was seven. He was being robbed. So death has always been around.
I'm actually glad that I did the military the way I did—that I lived in the world for a couple of years....
I've always wanted to go into education and become a teacher but they just don't make enough to survive off of. So I figure with my disability now, and the money I'll get from the government, I can use that plus the money I'll get from being a teacher and live comfortably. So I want to go to college and study education.
I've been dealing with the military since I was a sophomore in high school. They came to the school like six times a year. They had a recruiting station like a block from our high school. It was just right there. I could have gotten any job I wanted in the military. But my idea of a solider is hard-charging, the guy with the guns. So I didn't want to go into the military and do anything else besides that -- I signed up for infantry. ...
Here's the story of one injured soldier:
I remember every detail about my legs. Every detail from the scars to the ingrown toenails to the birthmarks to the burn marks. I made it a habit, even before I joined the military, to cherish every part of my body, because I would always look at it like, "What if this finger was gone, would I be able to function without it?" I don't know why. Maybe it was God's way of preparing me for what was going to happen.
I've always thought about death—just growing up in Chicago and living out here in this world. I had a friend when I was six years old, his name was Charles. He was shot in the head—I think it was a stray bullet. My oldest sister was killed by a stray bullet when I was just a couple of months old, and my father was killed when I was seven. He was being robbed. So death has always been around.
I'm actually glad that I did the military the way I did—that I lived in the world for a couple of years....
I've always wanted to go into education and become a teacher but they just don't make enough to survive off of. So I figure with my disability now, and the money I'll get from the government, I can use that plus the money I'll get from being a teacher and live comfortably. So I want to go to college and study education.
I've been dealing with the military since I was a sophomore in high school. They came to the school like six times a year. They had a recruiting station like a block from our high school. It was just right there. I could have gotten any job I wanted in the military. But my idea of a solider is hard-charging, the guy with the guns. So I didn't want to go into the military and do anything else besides that -- I signed up for infantry. ...
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