A 9-11 Soldier’s Story By MJ

I work in an office. It’s a typical office, full of bad fluorescent lighting, soothing pastel cubicles, and no windows. For eight hours a day, I sit in a room with a group of men as we go about our daily lives, earning a living. And it is quite a variety of people that I work with. I am the youngest person in the office, 25 years old. The next youngest is a man who’s in his late 30’s. We run the gamut, from ultra conservative to ultra liberal, and even though we all get along, we can occasionally break out into a heated political discussion.

Like the discussion we had today. On September 12th, 2003. The day after the two year anniversary of 9-11. The anniversary of the day after my world changed forever.

In my office, there’s a man. He’s a good man, quick to joke, good at his job, and kind to me. In his youth, he was drafted into Vietnam. He fought in that war, saw his buddies die in front of him, felt the bullets whiz by his head. He fought in blood and mud, and he survived. He’s a Democrat. He’s anti-war. He doesn’t like Bush. He thought we should have stayed out of Iraq. He thinks we were fighting for oil. (Cont)

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