I let him drone on a little bit more about transportation safety and other stupid regulations. He recited all the book answers for things he had no actual experience with. Amazingly I held back the expletives, and my fists. At the exact moment I had received enough ridicule from him, with a gesture for him to shut up, I yelled back at him very loudly from my smirking jaw, "Welcome to Iraq, Lieutenant " A moment later, the LT let go of his animosity and offered his hand. I extended my own arm and he shook my dirty fingered, stained and calloused hand. I accepted his peace offering and took particular notice of his well-rested eyes. It was uncommon to see eyes that were not yet sunken in and surrounded by dark circles. As we exchanged our single pleasantry from the trip, he relaxed his tone and thanked me for escorting him and his men safely. The camouflage cover on his Kevlar helmet was brand new. All of his gear was spotless. When he took his armored vest off, he wouldn't even put it on the dusty ground. I didn't even bother taking my vest off anymore. I had actually worn it directly into the shower a few times over the past year. I had become the war-torn soldier who I had met a year ago after getting off of the C-130 aircraft with Pawpaw. I was now the one with stained fingers, dirty smelly gear, was unshaven, had deeply sunken eyes full of anger, and lacked restful sleep. I was now the veteran introducing the new soldier to the war in Iraq. The year had been rough on me. I had triumphed and fallen, and triumphed again and fallen deeper. I had won many battles with qunbala (Arabic for bomb), and had lost at least one. I had given my very best in the form of constant dedication to mission. I had let lives continue by clearing IED's. I had also taken multiple lives. Conversation with the young LT was at a minimum. I was now the one who had lost personal skills over the last year of my life. I didn't want to talk to him. I knew that after the next twenty minutes, I would never see him again. Not another word was spoken. Radio silence...