body bags. You hear the screams of the wounded. You stab them with morphine until the medics can get to them. You really go crazy then because now you enjoy killing them for revenge. Sometimes you even laugh when you are mowing them down. You know you are going crazy but you can't stop. Then you get hit yourself. You are not special after all. You realize that you are already dead and have become a monster. You try to tell yourself you will seek redemption as soon as the killing is over. In the meantime the lucky ones try to help the new guys adapt. Be a big brother and get some of these virgins through this shit. You hope the fates see you being a good guy. You hope the fates spare you the pain of death. God is out of the question now so you pray to Lady Luck. More and more big scrapes with Mr. Death make you realize that your number has to be coming up soon. But it doesn't and you survive. That is when you realize that you died because now you have to live the rest of your life as a guy who once enjoyed killing. So put away the shoot m up video games, the SEAL movies and everything else that glorifies the charnel house. I hate guns now. I would rather die than kill another human being. Strong at the broken parts, I guess so. War broke my conscience but