I’m sitting under an old, gnarled tree hoping to find some solace form the ever beating sun. My kevlar is resting under my head like a pillow, albeit a very hard one. The Sounds “Living in America” is playing on my iPod while I lay sweating in the Iraqi heat. This has been the third straight week of temperatures over 90 degrees. Some how, this is not what I had in mind when I joined the Army.

When you’re a little kid you think of doing secret missions and flying fighter jets. Not this. Not innocent children dying daily for the prejudices of their elders. Not the constant fear of being attacked. Not minimal rations and no air conditioners. Somehow I think we would have been more help in New Orleans after Katrina.

“Johnson! Get your lazy ass over here!”

I quickly turn off my iPod and shove my head back into the helmet. Here we go again…