Yesterday, in my math class, sitting one seat away from me at the end of the row was another student attentively taking notes on logarithms, preparing for our final exams. Our professor asked him why he hadn’t been in class recently and he said that he had been away on army business.
Professor: Have you been to Iraq?
Student: Yes, and I have to go back. I don’t want to go back.
Professor: Did you kill people over there?
Student: Quietly, almost like a whisper under his breath he said, “yeah” and nodded his head.
Professor: That’s terrible. If you don’t want to go back, I’ll take you to Africa. They won’t find you over there.
Student: They’ll find me.
This is just about as close as I get to the war in Iraq. Other than the Iraqis I know here in the US that are worried about their loved ones over there, and my time at the airport when we used to see military men and women shipping out and some coming home in small boxes and urns, the war doesn’t affect me on a day-to-day basis except that I know that the lives and money spent over there could be put to better use over here or elsewhere around the world.