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ID: dBANCokj/qst/6280454#6280454
7/26/2025, 5:16:04 AM
IRAQ, 1999
The worst day of my life
The desert wasteland is littered with the dying and deceased bodies of the soldiers who were previously fighting. Standing there among them all is a lone US soldier, tending to his wounded brother in arms. The dying man lays on the dusty, Iraqi field, sputtering blood out of his mouth and talking to the sky as if God will answer his prayers. The lone US soldier, Cole Everhart, does everything he can to try and aid the dying brethren. It's for nothing though. A final gurgle of blood escapes the soldier's mouth before he becomes motionless.
Cole picks himself up from the ground, leaning against a nearby jeep for support. He looks over at the body of his fallen comrade, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry," he whispers before turning away from the corpse.
Cole's uniform is tattered and bloodstained, and he bears a wound on his shoulder that's slowly oozing blood. His assault rifle lays at his side; his other weapon lost on the battlefield. He needs both weapons now more than ever, but that's just not possible. With nothing left to lose, he stumbles through the blood stained desert, heading towards the Syrian border. It's not much, but it's something.
He finally arrives at the border, having lost the majority of the supplies in the desert heat. Still, he makes it alive. Only a few miles ahead is friendly territory. A wave of relief passes over him as he finally sees the American flag flying high. For the first time in days, Cole feels a sense of relief. Maybe he'll make it out of this place after all.
But that was only the start...
>I came across an American base. After relentless questioning for hours from commanding staff, I was dismissed and scheduled a psychiatric exam, I failed it and was sent back home.
>My wounded shoulder got worse and I suffered from a major infection all throughout my arm not long after. There was no other choice but to have it amputated. No longer fit for service, I was discharged and sent packing.
>I came across an American base, after relentless questioning I was patched up by a medical unit shortly after. I served the remainder of my time, the people and environment around me indifferent to what I experienced. Throughout the remainder of my time, something in my head stopped clicking the pieces together. I became cold, indifferent to everything around me.
The worst day of my life
The desert wasteland is littered with the dying and deceased bodies of the soldiers who were previously fighting. Standing there among them all is a lone US soldier, tending to his wounded brother in arms. The dying man lays on the dusty, Iraqi field, sputtering blood out of his mouth and talking to the sky as if God will answer his prayers. The lone US soldier, Cole Everhart, does everything he can to try and aid the dying brethren. It's for nothing though. A final gurgle of blood escapes the soldier's mouth before he becomes motionless.
Cole picks himself up from the ground, leaning against a nearby jeep for support. He looks over at the body of his fallen comrade, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry," he whispers before turning away from the corpse.
Cole's uniform is tattered and bloodstained, and he bears a wound on his shoulder that's slowly oozing blood. His assault rifle lays at his side; his other weapon lost on the battlefield. He needs both weapons now more than ever, but that's just not possible. With nothing left to lose, he stumbles through the blood stained desert, heading towards the Syrian border. It's not much, but it's something.
He finally arrives at the border, having lost the majority of the supplies in the desert heat. Still, he makes it alive. Only a few miles ahead is friendly territory. A wave of relief passes over him as he finally sees the American flag flying high. For the first time in days, Cole feels a sense of relief. Maybe he'll make it out of this place after all.
But that was only the start...
>I came across an American base. After relentless questioning for hours from commanding staff, I was dismissed and scheduled a psychiatric exam, I failed it and was sent back home.
>My wounded shoulder got worse and I suffered from a major infection all throughout my arm not long after. There was no other choice but to have it amputated. No longer fit for service, I was discharged and sent packing.
>I came across an American base, after relentless questioning I was patched up by a medical unit shortly after. I served the remainder of my time, the people and environment around me indifferent to what I experienced. Throughout the remainder of my time, something in my head stopped clicking the pieces together. I became cold, indifferent to everything around me.
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