CMoore.com

Start that oppo research, stat! He must’ve shaken hands with a Democrat at some point! Liberal liberal liberal!

“So we’re driving down the road and it’s midnight, so it’s pitch-black, and when you’re driving at night, you don’t use any lights,” says Terry Rodgers, “but we can see fine because we’ve got night vision goggles.”

He’s sitting in the living room of his mother’s townhouse in Gaithersburg, telling the story of his last night in Iraq. He’s still got his Army crew cut and he’s wearing a T-shirt with an American flag on the chest.

“We’re driving down this road and there’s this tiny bridge over a little canal,” he says. “They had rigged up this bomb and they had a tripwire running across the bridge and we hit it and it blew up.”

Like the rest of the 13,877 Americans wounded in Iraq, Rodgers has a story to tell. He tells it in a matter-of-fact voice, like he’s talking about making a midnight pizza run or something. He’s sitting in an armchair with his right leg propped on an ottoman, the foot encased in a soft black cast that reaches almost to the knee. His crutches are lying on the rug beside the chair.

“The Humvee finally comes to a stop and the right side is just torn apart and I hear my squad leader screaming, ‘I think I lost my arm!’ And my best friend Maida was in the front passenger seat where the bomb went off and he was screaming, ‘Where’s help? Where’s help?’ And then he went quiet.

“And me, I’m trying to crawl out of the Humvee and I get most of my body out and just this leg is stuck and I thought it must be caught on something in the twisted metal. I look back and I see it’s just laying there on the seat, so I’m like, ‘Why is it stuck?’ So I try to lift my leg up and it won’t lift. I just had to pick up my leg and crawl the rest of the way out.”
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“I didn’t have a political view,” he says. “I’m not into politics.”
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His real injuries were almost as bad as the ones he hallucinated. He had a broken femur, broken jaw, broken cheekbone. His right calf was blown away. Also, his right ear couldn’t hear and his right eye couldn’t see.
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One day a nurse came in to ask Rodgers if he wanted to meet President Bush, who was visiting the hospital. Rodgers declined.

“I don’t want anything to do with him,” he explains. “My belief is that his ego is getting people killed and mutilated for no reason — just his ego and his reputation. If we really wanted to, we could pull out of Iraq. Maybe not completely but enough that we wouldn’t be losing people — at least not at this rate. So I think he himself is responsible for quite a few American deaths.”
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Rodgers says he also declined to meet Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld and Condoleezza Rice. This wounded soldier has lost faith in his leaders, and he no longer believes their repeated assurances of victory.

Not to detract from what is a moving, powerful story of the sacrifice this soldier has gone through. I have nothing but the highest regard for him and his job. But when I read things like this, particularly the soldier’s refusal to meet the Cheney administration, I can already hear the clacking of the 101st Fighting Keyboarders coming up from behind, ready to smear a true patrio. And it makes me sick. They, the 101st FKs, make me sick.