Misbegotten

And when the fight was over
And when Old Glory raised
Among the men who held it high
Was the Indian, Ira Hayes

But he was just a Pima Indian
No water, no crops, no chance
At home nobody cared what Ira’d done
And when he did the Indians dance

Cho is what we Americans would call "screwed at birth." Half Mexican, half Native American, he was already bound for a life of hardship and racial profiling…so it certainly didn’t help matters to be born an orphan as well; soon to be passed around from one abusive foster parent to another, before taking the world on by himself at the emancipated age of sixteen. As you can imagine, the world was unforgiving to the poor lad, and he felt utterly empty and alone. Over the next few years he would make two friends, two real friends, and dub them his brothers. Paul, who lived on a farm house in the country, and Chad, who lived just a bit down the road. The three of them would hunt, and fish, and charm women together. An invincible force they became, and as such, they graduated high school and joined the Marines. They were all sent to Iraq the following year.

Paul received one care package per week, and Chad received one every two weeks. They always contained a variety of things; snacks, magazines, photos, letters, gadgets, and so forth…but ultimately served as a comforting reminder that somewhere in the world they were being thought of, and cared for. Cho received no care packages, ever. At one point Chad received a care package from his grandmother that contained ten individually wrapped catholic rosaries, and he passed them out to his platoon mates, who seemed to take a sudden interest in religion after arriving in the middle east. Cho took one eagerly, excited to have something to call his own. A gift, of any kind, was welcome and heart warming to him…it wasn’t until a day or so later when he returned, holding the device, confessing he had no idea how to use one of them, and asked his friends how. They laughed at him, and inquired as to what his beliefs were, to which he replied;

"I think God only put me on this planet to give himself something to laugh at."

Later that week Cho and Paul were out on patrol, investigating a house. Paul walked around the perimeter of the building while Cho went inside to look around. They accidentally caught sight of one another through a front window as Paul was walking across the porch. Cho was just beyond it in the living room, looking around at children’s toys. They smiled at each other, and Cho pointed his rifle at a stuffed animal in jest, through the glass, and Paul began to laugh. As they were gazing affectionately at one another through the glass, laughing like boys, a sniper shot Paul in the spine. He died soon after. The following day Chad and Cho were arriving at a check point centered on a bridge, when a truck full of explosives drove underneath it and detonated, killing many, and delivering massive head trauma to Chad, who no longer remembers who he is. Cho received minor injuries, and is currently back on active duty. Alone.

He died drunk one morning
Alone in the land he fought to save
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch
Was a grave for Ira Hayes

A drunken wretch, perhaps
But this land is just as dry
And his ghost is lyin’ thirsty
In the ditch where Ira died