One minute, you’re riding in the back seat of a Humvee talking to Joe about his little girl back home. The next, you’re tumbling through the air as your friends turn to waste around you. Nothing but smoke and blood are left. You can hear the bullets fly closely overhead as you lay in the dust defenseless.
The screams… The smell of smoke… The sounds of bones exploding from the sheer impact of bullets, bombs, grenades, you name it. There is not a damn thing you can do about it. You just lay motionless the small hole you crawled your way into. Why? Because you’re too scared to do anything about it. You’re best friends just got murdered and what do you do? You hide! All you’ll ever be is a coward from this day forward, unless you do something about it! You grab your m16 and you raise yourself up to see the chaos around. Death is everywhere…

The gunfire stops you point your rifle into the dust to watch the line. The dust begins to clear, and you see a figure standing in the middle of the desert plain. You start to raise your rifle and BANG! You get your head blown off by the man you DIDN’T SEE. You were there for 3 days. You never fired a single round and still back home you will be thought a hero. Do you know why? It’s because of all the lies we tell those folks back home, because we don’t want little Johnny’s mother knowing that he barely made it out of the jeep. We don’t want Joe’s daughter to know that her father died slowly and painfully, screaming for his mother!
We lie to our people… for their own good.
All war depends upon it…