Frank

This is a story about some of the struggles of a soldier.

I was walking through town and there was a soldier, with tattered clothes ,he looked as if he had not eaten in days.
No one would even recognize him as someone who served but I did, I knew this man named Frank once.

Frank had scars on every piece of visible skin, He was wounded in more than just the visible places, he was wounded in the heart, he was wounded in the soul.

I was captivated by how things had changed since the last time I saw him, so much so that it stopped me in the middle of the sidewalk. I couldn't help but stay and watch, hoping to learn how things had turned so bad for him.

He sat there for the rest of the day while people just passed him by, I guess he didn't leave because he must not have had any where to go. Still totally lost and wondering why things seemed so bad for him I walked home that night.
As I laid in bed, all I could think about was a question just burning in my mind "What happened to him, Why didn't he tell anyone that he was having trouble". After a few hours I finally fell asleep.

The next day I walked down that same street hoping to find out what was going on with Frank but he was gone.

For days I went back to see if he came back but no sign was left of him. I never forgot what I saw that day though, the pain I saw in his eyes, the worry I saw in his shaking hands.

One year later I spotted Frank walking down the street, looking a little better but still pretty torn. I ran up to him yelling out "Frank", It took a few yells to catch his attention before he turned around and when he did he looked as if he had no idea who I was. I told him a story from the past that sparked his memory and I asked him what happened that made things seem so bad for him.

He told me a story about the day he came back from Iraq, That day he found out his wife had an affair and wanted to divorce him and his three year old child didn't even know who he was.
He continued to tell me about the divorce and apparently she got the house and everything in it. His family abandoned him and his friends had moved on. He had no place to go so he just traveled until he ran out of money.

Frank started to cry as he told me how his own family told him they were ashamed of what he had been doing in Iraq and how they could not have any more to do with him.
I'm not sure if anyone knows how hard it is to watch a hero cry, I didn't until this day.

I talked to a few people and they helped Frank get a job, I gave him a place to stay until he worked for enough money to get his own place.

After he earned enough money Frank started packing his things to move into his own apartment,
As he walked to the door he turned to me and said "Thanks for being so nice, You saved my life.", I had to stop him and tell him, "No you saved my life".

To this day I'm not sure people understand what those men and woman go through out there in Iraq or any other war for that matter but I'm learning that while we are in our homes or doing whatever we want they are out there fighting to keep their lives and for us to keep ours, For that I am thankful.

Author's Note

Nothing is perfect, Don't be too harsh please!

Reviews

[Creepy Swine Guy]

'Tis a very complex blend of points of view, political agendas, motives and frames of reference. I don't see how one can be faulted for doing one's job. I am often dismayed at how some politicians will hide behind the soldiers, hoping that Americans will get confused about the difference between supporting fellow citizens doing their jobs and supporting a wrong-headed political agenda. Then there is the media and the public who exploit these men as egregiously as those who put them in harm's way for all of the wrong reasons. The media and the public ... looking for "feel good" stories hold these guys up as heroes when all they want is to get back to something in the same area code with "normal". When the lights and cameras go away, they are left to cope alone.

Sigh.

[Lady leah]

It's hard for many people to understand what our heros go thru on a day to day basis, for one can't know another until they walked in their shoes. the story you told touched me deeply.