CrackHead

An Iraqi kid that got to me

Every morning when we went on patrol he was waiting
We called him Crackhead
I'm not sure how that started
but that's what we called him
He'd come running up to us shouting
Bush! Bush! Bush! USA OK!
We had to teach him some other words
So we taught him "GET SOME!"
The grunt's cry for everything good in life
GET SOME!!
Then we taught him "Marines"
So then he'd run up to us shouting
MARINES GET SOME! GET SOME MARINES!
That we liked
For weeks he never missed a day
He'd be happily walking beside us
Sometimes he'd hold a Marine's hand
I held his hand many times
He's look up at you smiling with big bright brown eyes
His teeth looked like a brush never touched them
and sometimes he smelt god awful
He always had the same filthy pants on
He did have a few different shirts
and a pair of red thongs on his feet
He was a little weed of a kid
He didn't look like he was getting well cared for
There were kids everywhere just like him
But he was our CrackHead
What ever we had we didn't want
We gave to CrackHead
Candy
Skittles we wouldn't eat from MRE's
Skittles are bad luck for grunts
Bottled water
White bread
Crackers we thought were from Vietnam days
We even gave him gauze and tape
He was always there
Our little Mascot CrackHead
One day he wasn't there
and the next day and the next
We never saw CrackHead again
We didn't like that at all
We had no way of finding him
We didn't know his name
We didn't know if he had parents
We didn't know if he had a home
Keeping tabs on CrackHead Wasn't our mission
Our mission was to win hearts and minds
and annihilate anyone stupid enough to f**k with us
Which is what we were trained to do
So we couldn't go looking for CrackHead
So all I could do was worry
Which wasn't a good idea
Worrying is a bad thing during a war
It's distracting
But I couldn't help myself
Soon after I started having dreams
Dreams about finding CrackHead Dead
Over and over again
I dreamed
CrackHead was dead
I still do sometimes
Jesus Christ CrackHead
Whatever became of you
I Hope you're Okay

Author's Note

I guess this is what's called automatic writing. It's not edited or anything. It's just my thoughts. This whole thing happened in the Iraqi town of Najaf when we were doing high profile walking patrols to send a message something like "a new sheriff is in town and we want to protect you but if you fuck with us we'll fuck you up."

Reviews

[Inda]

This is tough to process and painful and just hurts in my gut. Thank you for sharing this, while there's an instinct in me to try to comfort you, i feel i would fail; anyone who hasn't experienced something like this would. The best thing seems to be to keep writing, I'm sure it's helping. Thanks for sharing this Ricochet.

[Richard Man]

Here's a horrible thought .... what if his older cousin had told him to groom you lot... to build trust... so that eventually .. crackhead would have to come laden with fireworks... to send you all... and him... off... he got to like you guys and thus he stopped seeing you... to save you.

[Richard Man]

To be sure as I read this out at home... which is what I do with your writing about your life... I wept.... You and crackhead were both walking on a knife edge.

[Ama May Cooper]

I always find reading these almost journalistic writing pieces very interesting, and the way you are always so honest within your pieces is admirable. I hope the young lad is okay, despite how hard i find it to believe it.

[AYVID N]

This is just too sad...
Sorry Baby...I'm sure he's ok where he is.

[Carolann Dowsett]

This is so sad, brought tears to my eyes.

[James William Dyer]

i liked this, engaging.

[Frieda P]

I don't know what to respond to this Baby, sometimes you write things like this that just touch my heart in a special way, and I see that part of you that shines. I'm sure you made that kids's day more often than you know...this is special. So are you.

*Skittles are bad luck?*

[Annabelle Lee]

Hold up, had to stop YouTube, Ke$ha just isn't right to listen to when reading Ricochet. This story literally made me cry, I don't know why but I couldn't help but see a little boy of about eleven, just sicker than a dog and still hopeful and then my mind shifted toward my little brothers..... Damn, Ricochet. This hit hard.

[saratogaparty]

Oh My God.

This is f*****g beautiful.