"Snow or sand? Write a poem or story where snow or sand plays a major part."

Sgt. Lynch, he was the guy you could go to for anything. He was the embodiement of an NCO, he never judged and always understood. I remember him as being a fatherly figure, the one that every man grows up wishing his dad was like. He had a way of looking at a person and figuring out what they needed as far as friendship. he was a chameleon, constantly changing his ways as he met each of his friends, yet he was able to maintain each of his personaes amongst a large group of men. he was everything to everybody. We weren't suprised when we got the call to deploy, most of the others of our division had been called. this was what i had been waiting for, what i had been training for since i stepped moff the greyhound at 30th AG to begin my military life. At first deployment was sorta fun, the excitment of being in a new place with different people. I was ione of those rare indivuals, my drill sargeants called me stupid. I liked talking with people, the thrill of meeting someone from a strange place and learnign their costums, this was what kept me going. It's hard to find someone like me in an infantry unit, i like to say i am one of a kind. patrols were always fun, being in town, talking to the locals and learning more about their beliefs. Kids though, kids were my weakness; everyone reminded me of my neices and nephews at home. i looked into their eyes and saw how happy i could make them with something so simple as giving them a piece of candy. Naturally this has gotten me in trouble many times with my superiors. It was this weakness that got Sgt Lynch killed. we had just hit the halfway point of our patrol when we stopped for a breather, some of us got out and set up a perimeter, me i foolishly walked away ffrom the group. i headed for a somewhat secluded spot to eat my MRE. As i was beginning to eat i heard the sound of children, naturally i turned and watched as the group started coming over to me. i had earned quite a reputation as the candyman in these parts, they soon surrounded me each one begging for some little piece of sweets. i never saw the grenade; it still kills me to think that someone trained the child to give up their life, their future wasted to inflict damage to people who were sent over to bring peace. Sgt Lynch had just begun to walk toward me to tell me about changes to the duty roster. He had a way of seeing everything in a crowd, he didn't over look the grenade. he made it just in time to shove me down. i got up to the horror of dead and dying children, at first i though Sgt lynch was still alive, he was wearing all of his equipment. grenades are a horrific weapon, they shoot out tiny fragments of metal; it was one of these that drove itself through his temple and right into his brain. there was nothing i could do, by the time the medics got there he was gone, lost along with his leadership. they went on to save some of the kids, but nonone could have saved them all. Even as i think about it,, the image of the sand comes back to me, red, clotted with the bloodof innocent children and a good man. it was seeing this surreal imagine that i took it upon myself to contact his family and to hopefully bring to peace the the images that have plagued me.