Christopher Rushlau

I was in the Peace Corps in Kenya for a year in 1978-9, decided it was a crock of shit, came home, got recruited for the national guard while doing volunteer work at a VA hospital, 25 years later it's off to Iraq!  Same old shit, larger container, but I had to see it for myself to believe it, including the whole Arabs-are-scum garbage.  I think I still expected them to smell bad when I first was around them, which I was every day as a supervisor of casual Iraqi labor on FOB Marez in our battalion area.  Then seven weeks in Diyanah up in Kurdistan, no mortars, go to town on Sundays.  Then the door prize, the bombing in the dining facility that got me just wounded enough to get evacuated, while being close enough to the bomber to see major surgery conducted with kinetic kitchen supplies and appliances, none of it successfully.  I used to be a medic before I became a cook to get some action in my guard life.

I also had a law degree by the time I went back to complete my Peace Corps two year obligation.  I'm still three months short, and I don't think the Peace Corps will accept my war corps time as good time.

But a good time was had by all, including the guy whose both legs were dislocated and folded up behind his head.  He was in a different universe, but smiling.  Like our President.  Enjoying life is the important survival skill.