Where The Boys Are

In a time of crisis we start grasping for straws on what to do. Some seek wise counsel while others go gung ho to take on a role of a hero and attempt to handle the situation themselves. Caught in a losing fight for survival, these brave soldiers who were giving their all for what they believed in found a fate of one that might have belonged to a third world country with morals that could be counted on one finger. To stand up for what was right and take the fight to the enemy, even if it was a fight they did not volunteer for but went anyway because they knew it was their duty as a citizen, the very least that a family could have expected was to see that their son or brother or dad was given a proper burial if they could not send the body home. No one deserves to have their final resting place to be a large hole in a foreign land, occupied by several hundred other residents who had suffered the same fate. One can only wonder if there had been any soldiers with status blood from a prominent family back home, was he given the same treatment or was his body bagged up and shipped home for a proper burial? In a desperate attempt to save time or to save face so the enemy could not see just how many bodies could be accredited to them, a decision was made that dreadful night in June that one young soldier knew would come back one day to haunt the leaders and the politicians of today as it had him so long ago as he witnessed in the shadows of the night as the terror unfolded.