Remember

Around mid July of the same year, I was in Sarajevo, for the second time. This time I was looking out a window of the 5th floor of the building I was working in and below I could observe some kids receiving or accepting some foods from some of my fellow colleagues, soldiers. The mortars started to rain again, and they rained down on the children. I was witnessing the mortar murders of hatred. The children below me were just torn to pieces by the hot shrapnel. I would see these kids again very soon. The stretchers I was working on, the boy had his leg ripped off by shrapnel. The remaining leg of the other, the other remaining leg I crudely removed, cause I couldn't control the bleeding.......The point of telling these stories, or even these true events I guess, is to remind you of the people that have an important role in this crazy world. The Mitch's, the Tracey's and the names of countless soldiers that are doing their jobs in the name of peace. The sad part is, these soldiers will never receive the respect or credit they justly do deserve. They are actually the heroes to be remembered.