it takes a worried mAn (186)

Almost everyone had dies, and the others were dying.
it was a hard job, but we swept through the crowd dispensing hot rounds into the hearts and minds of the American people.
"Women and children first!" i heard the commander yell, as i took aim at an elderly woman struggling to hide beneath a car.
this was not a fun job, but over the last few weeks i'd felt myself becoming more and more detatched from the actions i was taking in my capacity as a soldier.
from town to town, taking out citizens with fire and lead. it was tedious work.
some would fight back, and we'd lose good men.
on some occasions some of the boys would decided to torture a citizen that had the nerve to fight for his or her life.
the commander discouraged this, though.
"Always take the kill shot." he told us.
"don't make this any worse than it has to be."
still, it takes a certain type of man to kill for a living in the name of God and country, and it takes a totally differnt type of man to do it and feel nothing.
but the type of man that did it and started to enjoy it- that was the man i was becoming, andd i didn't like it.
i didn't like it at all.
at night when some of the men were comparing their personal tallies, i sat quietly in bed and thought about my family. my Sister, my Dad.
they both lived in the southeast.

they were probably killed weeks ago.