Charro **Reader discretion is advised**

**My intent in posting this is not for sensationalism, but rather to show that war is not a sterile event, and that a consequence of war, even one waged on the principle of just cause, is that some people die horribly.  Never forget that.

          This picture was taken in a slum of Baghdad known as Saddam City, which was oppressed by the Saddam regime due to the large proportion of Shi'ite Muslims that inhabited Saddam City; after the invasion Shi'ite cleric Muqtada al-Sadr came to power in the region and this area was re-named "Sadr City" instead.  India Company had set up defensive positions along this stretch of road, there were other infantry units operating in the area as well, though I don't remember which ones in particular.  The burned out van in the foreground was there when we arrived, I don't know if it was hit by a missile or rocket, shot by a tank, or set alight by a machine gun.  Inside the van, laying across the driver and passenger seats was a horribly charred body, whose age and sex were unknown due to damage from the fire.
          I was escorting our company executive officer, Lt. D'Amico, to link up with a lieutenant from an adjoining unit when on the way over we stopped by the van to see the body.  As we approached the passengers side of the van a great swarm of black flies rose from the body and buzzed around us; this Iraqi had met a violent demise: the entire top of the body's head was shorn off from just above where the upper jaw would have been, the arms were gone at the shoulders, and the body's legs were snapped off mid-thigh; brown splintered bone jutted from what was left of the thighs, which resembled two large overcooked and burnt pot roasts.  There was a small dog that was using the underside of the van as a den and we assumed that the dog had found the body to be a ready source of food; some Marines were friendly to the dog if it approached but I was disgusted by the thought of the dog eating parts of a human, so if it approached my fighting hole I would throw large clumps of dirt at it to scare it away, though I suppose I could have shot it just as easily. 
        We quickly nicknamed the body "Charro" and after we returned small groups of Marines took turns walking over to gawk at Charro and to take pictures.  I didn't have to take any pictures of Charro, I've never forgotten what he looked like.