. . . what . . . ?

Is there a punch line to this? Were you expecting pageantry? Were you expecting anger? Were you expecting -- anything?

Oh, I see. The surprise is on Lindy.

Yes, Lindy. The U.S. Militaries are peopled by -- people. They come in all shapes and sizes, all colors and sexes.

And there they are.

Do they love war?

No, not particularly.

Do they hate war?

No, not particularly.

No, it's pretty much the opposite of both love and hate, Lindy. It's called apathy. If nothing's going on, they really don't care.

Do they wanna go home?

Sure. Hell, they'll beat a path to that Huey in a heartbeat.

If they ware running to that chopper, and there is a fervent cry fro help from behind, though -- 75% of them will stop in their tracks and return to the fight. The other 25% will feel bad, and probably 75% of them will eventually return as well. The rest? Who really cares about them, anyway?

The others just gotta do it, and that‘s all that really matters.

These are the heroes, Lindy. Unsung through the pages of time. You pulled them out. For you, it was an unexpected wildcard. For Parenti, it was a little -- like as not soon forgotten -- fluke.

A good write-up of life in Baghdad, though, no doubt at all -- as it would be expected by me.

Hell, without cable, what is there to do -- but "draw a large, intricate pattern on a female mannequin leg." And after a heated shootout, who wouldn't enjoy a semi-cool Coke?

But, death goes on.

Cheers,
Dan