Temporary Home

I'm home in Westville for a few hours today. Lieutenant Corporal Josh Birchfield died in Afghanistan last week. The story we heard is that he was kidnapped by the Taliban early last week. We got him back but the next day his troop or group or whatever was ambushed and many were killed. Josh got caught in sniper fire. He was two years older than me and we had 3 or so classes together throughout school. But more importantly he was a family friend. His family now lives across the street from my house and he has been best friends with three of my cousins for many years. He would often appear at family gatherings and hang out with Steve, Mal, and Darren. He was so funny and he called me Charlemagne every single time he saw me after he heard Mrs. Swanson say it in our western civ class. "Hey! Isn't that Mrs. G's daughter?" Now he's gone and that's just incredible.

I went to a high school that had less than 200 students in it 9-12. Two of them have died in this war. There are half a dozen of them there now or getting ready to go. 30,000 more troops. Can't we just be done? I don't want to see my high school used for funeral services again. I don't want to see the entire town gathered together, crying again. I don't want to see anymore yellow ribbons tied to the street lamps. Josh will be remembered for his wonderful humor and personality. He certainly died a hero and he has made the whole town so proud of him. But I was proud of him before too, and I'd rather my heros be Superman and Batman.