Justin Cliburn (JC) and Deanne Cliburn (DC)

JC: One day we saw this child walking through the compound. His name was Ali and he did not want to talk to us.

DC: As opposed to a lot of the other Iraqi kids that you encountered?

JC: Yes. He was very shy. And the second or third time that I met him, he brought his best friend Ahmed. And Ahmed was much more outgoing. And so, Ali really opened up. And, once I met these children, it made every day something I looked forward to. We would play rock, paper, scissors. We would kick around a soccer ball. We were about as close as people that don’t speak the same language can be. I had never been really good with children and this was the first time I felt like I loved someone who wasn’t my family member. But one day Ali showed up and I could tell something wasn’t right. He kept saying, ”Ahmed, Ahmed…Boom.” We learned that Ahmed and his mother went to the gas station and a suicide bomber detonated. Ahmed’s mother is dead — she died instantly. And Ahmed is in a hospital somewhere. And so other soldiers and I collected what cash we had and gave it to Ali and said, ”Go take this to Ahmed’s father.” But later, I saw Ali walking up very slow and, uh…he sat down on the curb next to my humvee. He dug a hole in the ground with his fingers. He picked up a rock and put it in the hole and then he put the dirt back over it. And he just pointed to the ground and said, ”Ahmed.” And I knew that Ahmed was dead. And so I sat on the curb with him — Me in desert camouflage, carrying an M-4 rifle and him just a North Baghdad kid. Just sat there and cried. I don’t know what came of him. That’s the nature of war I suppose. But whenever I see any footage from Baghdad, I’m always kind of looking around, wondering if he’s in the frame.