I couldn’t believe that my dad was training to be on the front line. Why? Mostly because he clearly could have died and that I never thought my dad could even do that.
I was thinking to myself during his story time, as impatience as I am, Well how did you get here?!
This was the kick off to it all. If my dad could be awarded anything it would probably be “The Luckiest Man Award”.
During his time in the army, he came home for a couple days to see his family. During this time an old man (who was looked up to as the wise man of the village) told my dad with such urgency and happiness that there was a way out of the army.
Now let me tell you this, no one, I mean no one, could ever get out of this army. He was clearly drafted and was putting in his time. There were men in there that had been serving for over five years and had yet to find a loop hole in the system.
But for my dad there was a loop hole.
Because my father’s village was so far north in Iraq it was legally considered too close to be drafted. So there was a way out but he had a lot to do in such a short time.
Go to the village “lawyer”. Get the proper paper work. Take a taxi into the city. Sleep on the roof of a hotel. Wait until the he place opened where he could check get his paper worked check out. Wake up on time (without an alarm clock!). Get himself checked off. Then take a taxi back, all this just in time before he was sent back to base to get the official ay okay.
My father had it, The Golden Ticket, the ticket that everyone wanted.
Just like that, after not even a full year, my father was discharged.
Did I tell you my father was lucky? Make that blessed.
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