Makes me want to choke a liberal…

Via “The Spoons Experience” from “No Left Turns” comes this article: about an major in the Iraqi Army and his life since the end of the war. Here’s an excerpt:

“’Where are you going?’ he asked me,” Ahmed said in his accented but surprisingly good English.

“And I tell him, ’I am a major in the Iraqi Army and I was ordered to go to my house’” Ahmed said, finishing the backdrop to a life-defining moment he had not seen coming; and on what was supposed to be just a long 50-plus mile walk home to his wife and five children.

The encounter would prove to be a pivotal one for the military veteran because for the next two anxious minutes, Ahmed went through what must be emotions impossible to describe to someone who has never known he was about to die. It was more the result of the 33-year-old’s lifetime of experience with the ways of Saddam Hussein.

Ahmed, though, was actually two minutes away from a rebirth of sorts. “He looked at me for a while and I thought he was going to kill me,” Ahmed said. “But he didn’t kill me,” he added. “Instead he came to the position of attention and saluted me as an officer,” Ahmed said, “And said, ’Sir you can go.’”

“I took a few steps and began to cry,” he said, “Because I think, ’Why do I fight these people for ten years?[’â€?]

Just “Damn!” Why do we only hear about ticked-off mullahs and “insurgents” from the media? Why isn’t THIS story on the front page?

A second visit to France

The elderly American gentleman arrived in Paris by plane. At French Customs, he fumbled for his passport.

“You ‘ave been to France before, monsieur?” the customs officer asked sarcastically.

The old gent admitted that he had been to France previously.

“Zen, you should know enough to ‘ave your passport ready for inspection.

“The American said, “The last time I was here, I didn’t have to show it.”

“Impossible. You Americans alwayz ‘ave to show your passports on arrival in France!”

The American senior gave the Frenchman a long hard look. Then he quietly explained, “Well, when I came ashore at Omaha Beach on D-Day in ’44, I couldn’t find any f..king Frenchmen to show it to.”

(from an email from my much older sister)