I lived on Leavenworth as a freshman and ended up being best buds with this guy we'll call Urban. After 9/11 and Band of Brothers came out, we made a pact to go Infantry and try to get to the 101st together. I ended up moving a couple of times and we lost contact completely.

Two years later and we somehow both end up at Fort Sam. The pact was still on, but I got kicked out of my house, got a GED and went on to enlist while Urban was still in senior year. We lose contact again.

I got my "wish" and ended up at the 101st, but in a cruel twist of fate, they send me to 2nd BCT. This was just in time for the great 05-06 Yusufiyah shitshow. As soon as we got back from that, everything just fell apart for me. I was shot out, just completely done. I get a random phone call one night. It's Urban, who had just gotten assigned to 1st BCT that month. It was fucking crazy how the odds kept playing out like this. We link up and shoot the shit, catching up on everything. This was the fated moment we had looked forward to for years as kids, both of us Infantrymen in the 101st.

And I didn't give a single fuck. I wasn't even the same guy anymore. The only people that mattered to me at that point was my crew. Urban goes on to tell me that he pissed hot that week and how he's in a world of shit for it. That pretty much shatters whatever common ground we had left at that point, just for the sheer stupidity of what I was hearing. I don't see Urban being around for much longer if he's pulling this kind of shit right from the start. We agree to stay in touch and go hit the bars sometime. I ignore his calls and we lose contact again.

The last I heard from him was when he found my MySpace years later and messaged me. He said an IP had an ND on patrol and shot Urban right through his arm, so he was in recovery. I messaged back "That sucks" and never heard from him again.