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I did not have time to find the link this morning. Worth the read but sickening in the reality....
~snip~
On a drizzly Thursday morning, I meet Bandy in Alvey's room, where he's hanging out with a few other soldiers, debating whether to go running. "Fuck running," Bandy says, looking at Alvey. "You gonna run?" A tall kid in camouflage fatigues, Alvey looks at Bandy like he's nuts. A vet of the Afghan war, Alvey is a squad leader and, like Bandy, is twenty-three. He led fifteen soldiers through the battle of Fallujah, which right now he's reliving in a way: sitting on his bed and clicking through 500 or so Fallujah photographs that he's stored on his laptop. "Look at this guy," Alvey says, showing me a gruesome close-up of a corpse, mouth open in a ghoulish grin. "We called this guy Smiley, or fuckin' Cat Lips. His entire mouth had been eaten by cats." Alvey makes a lot of jokes about the things he saw in Fallujah. He looks at Cat Lips again. "You have that shit in your head, though," he adds. "I mean, this isn't the kind of thing you see every day."
Bandy snatches a peek. "I can stand seeing a dead haj," he says casually, using the GIs' all-purpose term for Iraqis. Seeing dead Iraqis is something he's gotten used to, he adds. "The first time I ever saw a dead guy was in April, and I was like, 'Oh, goddamn.' The dude's laying there, his arm's gone, there's a little bone stub sticking out...." It was sad, he says, because he didn't know if the dead man was an enemy. U.S. troops are often shot at from within a crowd, and when they fire back, it's often blindly. "So this guy could have been whoever," he says. But in Fallujah, "We heard that everyone was a bad guy. So when you saw these bodies...it was almost comforting. Like, thank God somebody whacked this motherfucker before he got us."
Bandy talks frequently about the fear that infuses their daily lives in Iraq. "Your life swings on a hinge," he says. As a result, "innocent people get killed." The previous week, for example, Bandy's platoon was guarding the highway near their base when an improvised explosive device nearly blew up a U.S. military convoy. Panicked, a soldier in the convoy opened up on a civilian truck that happened to be passing. "Splatters some dude's fucking head all over that truck," Bandy says. "The dude's brother is covered head to toe with brain matter, sinus goo, skull fragments -- whatever fucking flew out of that dude's fucking head. The locals come up and they're like, 'Why did you shoot my brother? Why do you kill Iraqis?' " Like a lot of soldiers, Bandy came to Iraq as an idealist. "I thought we were going to make things better here," he says. "But, I mean, what do you tell these fucking people? I've got a guy's fucking brains on me. He was just a civilian dirt farmer fucking casualty."
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