A sad story

I went to my gym last night.

On the way to the men’s locker room, I saw a man with a backpack and a walker; he was slowly making his way into the locker room entrance. I stopped and asked if he needed help. He said no.

I asked him what happened to him. One word said it all. Afghanistan.

In the next few minutes, he told me his story. He was blown up twice, and two of his best friends killed. The first time he got away with it. The second time, not. He said that his back was still riddled with inoperable shrapnel as some is too close to his spinal cord to remove. So, like another friend who suffered a similar fate, his physical problems will get worse.

He told me a story of how U.S. taxpayers built a new base for the Afghan soldiers, gave it to them and forgot about it. Some time later, they went back and found that the Afghans had stripped the base of anything of value. What a surprise!

We talked about our prospects over there and agreed that as soon as we leave, like the Russians, that Afghanistan will collapse again, and our ten-year weak-minded attempt at nation building will be another failure of treasure and blood. Blood of our youth, illustrated by this 30 year old, who was slowly heading to the pool for some therapy exercise.

It is a shame that the old men in suits order the best of our youth to fight for their country, when in fact they may be fighting, not for their country but, for their administration and its political agenda.

It’s a shame that the old men in suits don’t go to war and leave our youth alone. I suspect that if that happened, wars would end… fast.