Well, it’s been 72 of the busiest hours I have ever seen out here. The town has pretty much erupted. It’s like a shootout at the OK corral out here, with people blasting away from every corner and every angle. The wind and the heat are furious, and from every direction you can hear the snap of a round or two passing close by my head. Strangely enough, we seem to be blessed and have avoided pretty much the whole thing. It’s not us that they want to kill, its each other. And no matter how hard we try how hard we always seem to be just a few minutes to late.
I can’t help but feel defeated. I think the level of violence is on everybody’s mind. We try so hard to train them soldiers to deal with it, to react to it, to try and identify possible trouble and stop it, but it’s all around them and it gets harder and harder every day to keep the charade going. I know I sound like maybe I have given up, but it gets to me. I want everybody to leave here with the thought that they did the right thing, for the right reasons. Not for politics, or WMD, or anything as profound as that. I want us to leave here believing in what we have accomplished; that we did something good for this country, and for the world. But I am surrounded by a sea of bodies, and we are just floating on the surface, getting pushed by the tides.
There is no solution anymore, from what I can see. The killings will go on until there is nobody left but us.