Today started out like just about every other day. We got up had breakfast and excercise then gathered our things and went to the ECP
(Entry Control Point) to meet with the guys from Wisconsin or Tennesse and leave the wire on patrol. As usual the IA was late and we just kinda sat around talking and joking. We finally met up with our counterparts in the IA, they had failed to bring any water for their men so Uncle Sam helped out, yesterday it was fuel they forgot.

As we rolled out the ECP onto the hardball (paved road) a voice came over the radio speaker,usually the voices are very military and not much for animation just quick and clear,this mans voice was clearly troubled, almost sad. The part that jumped out was "A child has been shot in the head and we don't know if he's going to make it".
There was alot more said but it was obvious what had caused such duress. All of us in the vehicle let out a collective "Damn it". It is the most difficult of things to endure, the children being hurt.

Just a few minutes later we came upon what seemed a traffic stop, but it was the wounded child. We were waved through and as we got closer I could see a small white pickup with American soldiers all around it and providing protection while our medical personel worked frantically to save the childs life. It's something that everyone here understands, espescially the Iraqis, if I child is hurt take them to the Americans, they will help. The child was a young boy perhaps fifteen or so, he was drenched in blood and things looked very bad. We took a passing glance,cursed out loud and went back to work. The boy did not survive and it was not Americans that shot him.

About two hours later we found ourselves at one of our very familiar villages and of course all the kids gathered and started with "Mister, mister give me mangaria". As the gunner and I explained to the kids we had no candy today and maybe tomorrow we heard some more disturbing things on the radio. Another voice came over and said "Someone get a hold of those idiots leaving LSA Anaconda,some civilian truck driver is throwning candy on the street and kids are almost getting hit, tell them to stop". My gunner let out a very loud
"F---ing morons". The road in question is the one I've often written about and refer to as "Little vittles road". Within three minutes the voice came back and said "Jesus,they just hit a kid". There was a flurry of activity on the radio trying to confirm what was said. Later in the day after our mission was complete we were told a child had been killed. Today was a horrible day and a day best forgotton but we won't be able to do that, and I won't want to talk about it again.

As I sat in the vehicle and talked to the little kids gathered at my feet, a little boy was holding my hand, I wondered about the last couple of days and the months ahead and hoped that none of these kids would ever forget they we came with kindness and never meant for any children to get hurt. I got alot of candy and stuffed animals yet to share but must remember there's a time and place.