Photo: The author, carrying a bag of samoon — a type of bread — while on patrol in Fallujah, Iraq, in late 2007. Courtesy of Matt Young
Matt Young, Time: I Hope the Military Doesn't Change My Brother Like It Did Me
My youngest brother leaves for basic training in April. I get it. The military fashions itself the last bastion of true manliness, and in a world that feels unstable, it promises four years of a steady job, decent pay, health care and moral high ground over those who didn’t serve. Then, they tell you, at the end of your active service you’ll be left with a marketable set of skills so desirable employers will be lining up outside your door begging for you to take their jobs. You’ll be wanted, a provider.
I’m eleven years older than my brother, who was four when the U.S. invaded Afghanistan. But we grew up in different places, with different people. My biological parents reunited years after they gave me up for adoption. They raised my brother and our siblings in a small, beautiful Massachusetts town. When he and I first met, he’d just ended his junior year in high school. He was quick to smile and humble. He loved his dog. He had two present and loving caretakers who kept him in line. He was a high school quarterback.
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WNU Editor: It is impossible to understand a person by just one post .... but this is one person who is not happy that he made the decision to join and serve.
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1 comment:
Wrong recruitment to begin with. Big warning clock that he used to harm himself with lighters when he was a te en and use a lot of drus till he passet out.
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