A warm wind blew across the desert as a battle raged in the distance.  I heard explosions along with faint muzzle flashes out there where my brothers fought.  The communications radio brought many things — battle orders, a momentary celebration, a desperate call for a medic, a soldier calling out enemy positions.  I got to take it all in from afar.

Through my scope I saw you setting an ambush.  From behind cover you looked around.  “They’re not here yet,” you must have thought to yourself.  I saw a soldier, a warrior, a man with family and friends.  I saw a loved-one’s picture in your pocket.  I saw a common bond — a worn-out man longing for the comforts of home, longing for a warm meal, longing for peace.

In many ways, we were kindred, like others who had come before.  We both had jobs to do, duties to perform, orders to follow.  You sought to kill my brothers while I sought to protect them.  I know it was more complex than that, that war is not black and white but shades of gray.  We all have to live with the things we have seen and done.  Well, at least I do.  I saw your eyes widen when you heard the gunshot.  It was an honor to have met you in combat.