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also didn't help that back at our camp in the desert region, the temperature was a balmy 120 degrees Fahrenheit. Adding the humidity of this topography and the 45 pounds of body armor that soldiers are required to wear only went to enhance the feeling of comfort I undoubtedly possessed.
"Get ready, we're coming up to the cloverleaf," yelled the truck commander Sergeant Edmondson over the roar of 51/50's engine. The infamous Fallujah cloverleaf is the most dangerous place in Iraq for its record of ambushes conducted in this area. It is surrounded by numerous apartment buildings that are incredibly easy to hide and shoot from. Our enemy, the so-called insurgents, have an added bonus knowing that our tactics will not allow us to fire in a populated area unless the target is properly identified, letting them easily shoot from darkened rooms unrestricted.

My head was on a swivel constantly looking for that puff of dust that would signify a poorly aimed shot, the only kind it seemed the insurgents knew how to make. Directly behind us I saw a black Iraqi sedan pull into our convoy, something that we do not allow for fear of vehicle borne improvised explosive devices. I motioned for the driver of the tanker to force the car off the road and that is when I saw who the passengers in this car were, a man, a woman and two small children no more than four or five years old. Regardless, this is war and I have seen kids barely out of diapers holding weapons, all precautions are taken.
The tanker swerved towards the sedan and I could see the face of the driver, nothing but fear for his family's safety, I instantly knew he was not a threat, but it was too late. When the tanker swerved, the Iraqi man slammed on his brakes and somehow flew out of the windshield sending the car directly underneath the tanker. The tanker subsequently jackknifed and skidded into the median propelling the tanker's gunner out of the top hatch, where he was mounted, into the road. Once the twisted metal destruction came to a stop the driver of the tanker jumped out and almost instantaneously a small fire broke out. Against all the training I received which told me to stay put on the gun, I jumped out of the truck and tried to help the woman and children stuck under the tanker. I knew there was no use in this action, but I tried anyways.
I got close to the wreck and knew Black Death was coming to take these kids from their fuel soaked tomb. The flames were getting bigger and I realized that time was

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