This story is from Jim Lee

This is one story of many that people normally don't hear, and one that
everyone does.

This is just one most don't hear: A young Marine and his cover man
cautiously enter a room just recently filled with insurgents armed with
Ak-47's and RPG's. There are three dead, another wailing in pain. The
insurgent can be heard saying, "Mister, mister! Diktoor, diktoor(doctor)!" He
is badly wounded, lying in a pool of his own blood. The Marine and his cover
man slowly walk toward the injured man, scanning to make sure no enemies come
from behind. In a split second, the pressure in the room greatly exceeds that
of the outside, and the concussion seems to be felt before the blast is heard.
Marines outside rush to the room, and look in horror as the dust gradually
settles. The result is a room filled with the barely recognizable remains of
the deceased, caused by an insurgent setting off several pounds of explosives.
The Marines' remains are gathered by teary eyed comrades, brothers in arms,
and shipped home in a box. The families can only mourn over a casket and! a
picture of their loved one, a life cut short by someone who hid behind a white
flag. But no one hears these stories, except those who have lived to carry
remains of a friend, and the families who loved the dead. No one hears this,
so no one cares.

This is the story everyone hears:
A young Marine and his fire team cautiously enter a room just recently filled
with insurgents armed with AK-47's and RPG's. There are three dead, another
wailing in pain. The insurgent can be heard saying, "Mister, mister! Diktoor,
diktoor(doctor)!" He is badly wounded. Suddenly, he pulls from under his
bloody clothes a grenade, without the pin. The explosion rocks the room,
killing one Marine, wounding the others. The young Marine catches shrapnel in
the face. The next day, same Marine, same type of situation, a different
story. The young Marine and his cover man enter a room with two wounded
insurgents. One lies on the floor in puddle of blood, another against the
wall. A reporter and his camera survey the wreckage inside, and in the
background can be heard the voice of a Marine, "He's moving, he's moving!" The
pop of a rifle is heard, and the insurgent against the wall is now dead.

Minutes, hours later, the scene is aired on national television, and the
Marine is being held for committing a war crime. Unlawful killing.

And now, another Marine has the possibility of being burned at the stake for
protecting the life of his brethren. His family now wrings their hands in
grief, tears streaming down their face. Brother, should I have been in your
boots, I too would have done the same.

For those of you who don't know, we Marines, Band of Brothers, Jarheads,
Leathernecks, etc., do not fight because we think it is right, or think it is
wrong. We are here for the man to our left, and the man to our right. We
choose to give our lives so that the man or woman next to us can go home and
see their husbands, wives, children, friends! and families.

For those of you who sit on your couches in front of your television, and
choose to condemn this man's actions, I have but one thing to say to you. Get
out of you recliner, lace up my boots, pick up a rifle, leave your family
behind and join me. See what I've seen, walk where I have walked. To those of
you who support us, my sincerest gratitude. You keep us alive.

I am a Marine currently doing his second tour in Iraq. These are my opinions
and mine alone. They do not represent those of the Marine Corps or of the US
military, or any other.

Sincerely,
LCPL Schmidt
USMC