So, another person from my high school died the other day. In Iraq, I guess. Somewhere in the Middle East. I didn't actually know him. I met him, and I can put a face to the name, but we were never friends, or even aquaintences. But he was a life, the same age as me. He put himself into danger every day, which I suppose isn't too out of the ordinary. A lot of jobs are dangerous, but this is a different kind. I don't know why someone would do something like that --join the army-- knowing full well that there's a pretty good chance they'll get shot, or blow up, and will be disrespected by a lot of people in this country, and downright hated by people in that one. I can't imagine going somewhere, where I'm a complete minority in every way, and where I don't know which people are glad that I'm there, and which one's want to kill me, all the time expected to help them and represent an entire country. I wouldn't. I don't have that kind of pride, courage, or whatever it takes to be a soldier.