Wednesday, July 04, 2007

Toy soldiers......

'What's wrong with you?'
'What do you mean pal?'
'For free, are you stupid?'
'No, just apathetic.'
'Full of shit more like, how old are you really?'
'Young, put it that way bro.'
'You alright, going home?'
'Sound as a pound my friend, as always.'
'Matcho man.'
'Something like that, so long chap.'

As she sat infront of you, two black eyes, bruises on her face, she maintained he didn't mean it, she didn't cook his food right, the way he liked it to be served. Even when she had been subjected to such degredation and humiliation, she found a way to blame herself, she found a way to exonarate the guilty. The training taught you how to arrest the person who hit her many times, slammed her head into a pedal bin and an ash tray over her head, but not how to deal with a victim, a real victim. That you know, can never be taught, and it can never be mastered, every victim is different, and every time you walk through a door, you know you'll fail to deal with the situation in some way, but every time you do fail, you feel like you at least win another opportunity to try again.

When you were younger, before you joined the Police, you used to believe that anyone could change their life around, with help from the right people, with enough time, anything could be possible. Some people who you come across when you are on duty however, just can't be helped, no matter what you do for them, the police in general, what social services do, the courts and the charities, it never works and it never will.

Sometimes as you look at the victims, you ask yourself is it best to be a toy soldier, doing what you can, with what you have to offer, taking the flack, the abuse, the accusations, or is it best to walk away, and leave it all behind. One day you know you'll have to answer with the latter option, and that, if you had any feelings at all, would scare the hell out of you.

'Step by step, heart to heart, left, right, left, we all fall down, like toy soldiers. Bit by bit, torn apart, we never win, but the battle wages on, for toy soldiers.'

Martika - Toy Soldiers.


At 10:35 PM, Blogger totallyun-pc said...

Deep.... very deep....

Good writing dude.

At 7:22 AM, Anonymous "gunner" said...

that photo was taken by michael yon, an independent journalist with 1bn 24th infantry, the "duece-four" a.k.a. "the punishers". the child was wounded by terrorist action and the major in the photo was trying to get her to a helo to evac to a hospital, she died enroute in the helo. see:

for the bare bones of the story and/or michael's archives for a full report on that days action.
n.b. i was not there, nor claim to be. my time in service was long, long ago.


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