That day; one of many that seemed like any other was changed with a single site of fragile innocence. It was mid-day in Iraq our mission was to find and destroy any insurgent activity in the area The area was greener than anything I had ever seen; lots of palm trees and high greenery that made it almost impossible for me to see ahead. The insects that stuck to my sweat like glue did not make the heat any more desirable. We made our way to village after village, finding mostly empty houses, any homes that did have inhabitance were mostly women and children, but like always we kept our posture and pressed on looking for our enemy.
A fellow Marine and I came to our next target house; we were a little ahead of the rest of our platoon so we waited in the brush just in front of the lone house. Taking a knee I swatted the flys that had yet to stick to my face. I took a better look at the house in front of me. The home had large gardening tools; empty sacks of seed and rice piled by the front door, and some dolls carelessly tossed in a nearby garden. I noticed a little face looking out of the window at us. The face quickly left the window and the front door opened and out came a very young girl that brought me and my fellow Marine directly to our feet and our weapons at the ready.
She came directly to us not aware of our mission or our stench of not showering in almost a week. She stopped just feet from us and stared and gave a great big smile and a broken Hello She had light skin, her hair fell in brown curls, she watched with her green eyes as she waited for our next move I felt like a bunny that she had just found. She was no taller than the M16 I held tightly in my hand, and she reminded me of my little sister back home. She reached her fragile hand out to mine inviting me to follow her; she took my gloved hand and made haste back to her house, with the platoon just seconds behind us I had no worry but just to follow the girl who took my mind off of what I was there for. She brought me to an empty room with a single matt on the floor, the walls were covered in colorings of houses with trees, stick figures with great big smiles, and smiling suns, this was her room. She was proud of her drawings and proud to show me I told her These are great! I knew she couldnt understand so I showed a broken smile and she smiled back as she looked at all of her creation. The grip on my M16 loosened as I felt just for a moment like I was home again.
She looked up at me and drew a vertical line down the center of her chest... My face showed question, the girl then quickly pulled her shirt up and what I saw mad the grip on my M16 tighter than ever her skin from sternum to belly had been stitched together. Any normal life living person would think an operation, but we had reports of child suicide bombers. Could this little girl who had caught me off guard be the very end of me? The moment I saw the stitches and my grip tightened I thought it was over, But she smiled, pulled her shirt back down, and ran out of the room giggling. She came back in pulling her father close behind; by this time the rest of the platoon was well into the search of the surrounding area and house The father explained in broken English but understandable, that his daughter had just gotten back from Minnesota where she had open heart surgery. I was listening to him but couldnt help but look at her and see complete innocence in such a war torn world, oblivious to worlds decay, my stench, the Marines rummaging through her house for hidden Insurgents, not a care other than showing everyone her beautiful drawings of a perfect life.
I stayed in the room with her and held her hand and felt at ease an argument outside broke our peace, and the little girl let go of my hand and ran outside to her fathers voice, Her father was in an argument with one of our interpreters, over what to this day is still unsure, the little girl grabbed her fathers hand, following the girls tight grip on her fathers hand the interpreter smacks her father on the cheek,. The act would have been really nothing to remember but when the little girl that I was watching closely fell lifeless like one of the dolls in the nearby garden it changed the tone. No one including myself knew what exactly what had happen. Was it the shock of seeing her father being slapped or did her heart stop from the excitement? Our Corpsmen scooped her up and I followed close behind, followed by her crying mother We ran as fast as we could to a stream behind the house, our Corpsman kneeled down with her in his lap and gently scooped water from the stream and dripped in on her forehead. Her mother crying and praying behind me made me think the worst. My grip on my M16 tightened and I began to remember where I was and what I was there to do, no time to worry about the little girl- I had to complete the mission- couldnt be weak; Then a little breathe exploded into life a mothers cries turned to happiness, her green eyes were open not sure of where she was, The call to move on to the next house was made over the radio, the Corpsman put her in her mothers arms and continued his mission, I looked at the girl one last time in her mothers arms and safe and I continued mine.
A fellow Marine and I came to our next target house; we were a little ahead of the rest of our platoon so we waited in the brush just in front of the lone house. Taking a knee I swatted the flys that had yet to stick to my face. I took a better look at the house in front of me. The home had large gardening tools; empty sacks of seed and rice piled by the front door, and some dolls carelessly tossed in a nearby garden. I noticed a little face looking out of the window at us. The face quickly left the window and the front door opened and out came a very young girl that brought me and my fellow Marine directly to our feet and our weapons at the ready.
She came directly to us not aware of our mission or our stench of not showering in almost a week. She stopped just feet from us and stared and gave a great big smile and a broken Hello She had light skin, her hair fell in brown curls, she watched with her green eyes as she waited for our next move I felt like a bunny that she had just found. She was no taller than the M16 I held tightly in my hand, and she reminded me of my little sister back home. She reached her fragile hand out to mine inviting me to follow her; she took my gloved hand and made haste back to her house, with the platoon just seconds behind us I had no worry but just to follow the girl who took my mind off of what I was there for. She brought me to an empty room with a single matt on the floor, the walls were covered in colorings of houses with trees, stick figures with great big smiles, and smiling suns, this was her room. She was proud of her drawings and proud to show me I told her These are great! I knew she couldnt understand so I showed a broken smile and she smiled back as she looked at all of her creation. The grip on my M16 loosened as I felt just for a moment like I was home again.
She looked up at me and drew a vertical line down the center of her chest... My face showed question, the girl then quickly pulled her shirt up and what I saw mad the grip on my M16 tighter than ever her skin from sternum to belly had been stitched together. Any normal life living person would think an operation, but we had reports of child suicide bombers. Could this little girl who had caught me off guard be the very end of me? The moment I saw the stitches and my grip tightened I thought it was over, But she smiled, pulled her shirt back down, and ran out of the room giggling. She came back in pulling her father close behind; by this time the rest of the platoon was well into the search of the surrounding area and house The father explained in broken English but understandable, that his daughter had just gotten back from Minnesota where she had open heart surgery. I was listening to him but couldnt help but look at her and see complete innocence in such a war torn world, oblivious to worlds decay, my stench, the Marines rummaging through her house for hidden Insurgents, not a care other than showing everyone her beautiful drawings of a perfect life.
I stayed in the room with her and held her hand and felt at ease an argument outside broke our peace, and the little girl let go of my hand and ran outside to her fathers voice, Her father was in an argument with one of our interpreters, over what to this day is still unsure, the little girl grabbed her fathers hand, following the girls tight grip on her fathers hand the interpreter smacks her father on the cheek,. The act would have been really nothing to remember but when the little girl that I was watching closely fell lifeless like one of the dolls in the nearby garden it changed the tone. No one including myself knew what exactly what had happen. Was it the shock of seeing her father being slapped or did her heart stop from the excitement? Our Corpsmen scooped her up and I followed close behind, followed by her crying mother We ran as fast as we could to a stream behind the house, our Corpsman kneeled down with her in his lap and gently scooped water from the stream and dripped in on her forehead. Her mother crying and praying behind me made me think the worst. My grip on my M16 tightened and I began to remember where I was and what I was there to do, no time to worry about the little girl- I had to complete the mission- couldnt be weak; Then a little breathe exploded into life a mothers cries turned to happiness, her green eyes were open not sure of where she was, The call to move on to the next house was made over the radio, the Corpsman put her in her mothers arms and continued his mission, I looked at the girl one last time in her mothers arms and safe and I continued mine.