Unreliable narrator; Old memories

As a man of my word I can tell you one thing, I love my county, from the plains with them cows, to the great big woods up in the northeast.  The food here the culture the nostalgia of the fast life it’s all so intriguing. We are free we are alive every day without a dictator or a depot we are free, The bald eagle the very symbol of our country, wanna know what it is, It’s Free.  Of course that is the reason I joined the army to fight for the freedom that we have to allow this country to be free. I always wanted to be a war hero and be thanked by Americans for saving four men in a burning house while three hundred others die because the inexperienced dude took your place when you said that you needed to go with Charlie team because they were a man short. It’s not your fault but it chained off of you, Right?  Or is it just that kid’s fault, what was his name… ahh I just had it, well whatever I will remember later don’t let me forget, now it’s your turn to remember, what I want to remember so I can get you that name.  That kid gave the order to fire on militants of the Iraqi army, he set coordinates and exact mortar counts and poison initiated missile strikes so that each one would perish. The only problem was the fact that the militants where US and that it was actually a mid-sized brigadier force setting to the west to take out a high concentration of Iraqi troops. All 350 troops died, a message about the location was sent thirteen minutes and twenty two seconds before the attack, problem was the kid had left his transmitter in his way station not expecting to receive any messages. Rookie mistake I would say.  The Iraq war was a good one I had fun, I k now what you’re thinking, HE HAD FUN. Yea I did I’m a freak I guess but I didn’t kill too many people, I saved a lot and saw a lot of spectacular things.  Plus I had my good buddy with me Rodney. That dude was my man he was always doing something funny, but that’s what got him, he was doing funny things to avoid the pain. He went through some hard times in that war I listened as he told me about the little boy who came running from a house on a side road off of  the west side of  neo largo valley. The kid dashed in a fire fight Rod hit the kid with his .357 Magnum. Got him right in the femoral artery anywhere else on the kids leg and he would have lived. Rod cried for four days all he thought about was his son, he could never live this down now.  After a while he got better happier, too happy at that, always making a joke, but I loved them ya know. One day I recall the platoon was going through a hot little portion of desert that was really killing us. We hit a big set of trees and stopped in the grove.  It I later come to find was a vast forest.  But something around a hundred feet into the forest was one of my favorite memories. A waterfall seemingly innocent, well it was but it had a certain vibe like the fish could talk. The water was clear as glass a picture perfect view little miniature fish swam around I had to enter this stunning water. It was clean fresh water perfectly drinkable and clean, the best water I had ever tasted. The problem with the area was that this waterfalls pond bellow was endless I could never see the bottom just darkness.  This is the same reason sometimes I hate our military. We bomb beautiful places like this, why can’t we just live with what others say to us and be happy for once. I don’t know, but sometimes I hate America.  Actually that leads me to my next thought.  The war ended and I was back home Rodney was there, my son was waiting with his aunt, but I still couldn’t get the picture of the poor kid out of my head, the thing that scares me is my sons name is nee the name of the place I killed the kid I don’t think I will forget that place, nee larga valley. Rodney had post dramatic stress disorder, and I was devastated he wouldn’t ever talk to me about the days we had there he would act like it never happened. My best friend basically crazy.  The worst part about this whole thing is the after sequence when Rodney hit rock bottom, kills fifty, wounds three hundred, and attempts to kill himself but is stopped by a cop named Don.  All wounded would end up dying some sort of poison I guess, that’s what the report said. Rodney was a crazy dude my best friend, but a crazy dude.  Now the more I think about the war the more I remember and regret things I did. Those missile strikes where brutal how could a kid of my caliber do that?  I never figured out my own thoughts and feelings, Doney it says on my military forms, they spelt it wrong it’s Donny, whatever I guess. Wait was it, it was, yes! I figured it out, the kid his name was… Maybe don I don’t know it could have been Donny I can’t really remember They liked to call him Rod or something What’s that short for I can’t seem to recall what my name was then It was so long ago He may have been a Rodney, same as my friend But who knows what’s going on anymore this is a war story I’m Just trying to Remember.