By Robert Dean
Guest Columnist
The kid sits up as morning light isn’t even out of bed yet. Soon, there will be rumblings of the others within the troop. They’ll come awake with the shaking noise of commands and voices—boots on concrete, bellows from sergeants, the frantic movements of those scrambling to be a soldier when there’s still sleep in their eyes.
He moves faster; his uniform is on. His boots are pristine; the pants tucked correctly, his uniform pressed.
He’s heard rumblings about lunch—that they’re getting crab legs, steaks, the good stuff.
Joining the Army wasn’t a lifelong dream, but he needed to get ahead. His parents didn’t have money for college, and prospects back in his hometown weren’t great. He wasn’t a steel mill kind of guy, and everyone within 100 miles wanted that job, anyhow. The Service would pay for college, give him skills, discipline—a real chance at life.
His name is Danny, but the guys on the base have started calling him “Rooster” because, as one put it, “you got a long neck, dude.” And so, Rooster was born.
Danny is only 20. Can’t even legally buy a beer or cigarettes. But he can strap on a weapon.
The news of shipping off to Iran gets more real by the day. As he sits down to a plate of bacon, eggs, a piece of toast, a cup of coffee, his mind wanders. The others talk about the big budget ask—over a trillion dollars. Trump has asked for a big, big check to keep up fighting.
Trump wants a trillion-dollar war chest—an almost abstract number until you remember what it buys. It buys time, power, and policy, but it’s kids like Rooster who pay the price. That money buys their graves and coffins, too.
America is alone on a geopolitical island. The Iran war is a gift to Israel, and even they don’t know what’s going on, as Iran is a much stronger enemy than Iraq or Afghanistan ever was. Israeli officials have privately acknowledged there’s no guarantee the war will topple Iran’s government, despite weeks of bombing. They killed Iran’s leader, and what did they do? Put his kid in charge. As much as they want regime change, it isn’t going to happen. Even as Trump signals the war could end soon, Israeli leadership doesn’t believe the finish line is anywhere close.
Rooster’s boots; the rubber soles of other kids from places who just wanted to get ahead in life and not die in a war with little meaning.
Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth forced Army Chief of Staff Randy George into immediate retirement, cutting short a term that was supposed to run through 2027. The abrupt move—along with the removal of other senior officers—adds to a growing shake-up of military leadership during the ongoing Iran conflict, with no clear public explanation given.
Rooster is supposed to trust this chain of command, that he won’t die because of their choices, or if he does, it will be for the greater good of the world. What happens when a kid looks at his phone, talks to his peers, and that feeling of “greater good” can’t be strip-mined out of him, despite their patriotic programming?
Danny’s mom keeps an eye on the news back home. She gets nervous talking about it with her friends. None of their kids are the ones who signed up. They went to the mill.
Danny’s dad doesn’t say much, but the anxiety he won’t talk about lives inside of him like a live wire.
As Danny sits over his breakfast, the others chatter about their duties to the gig—that it’s part of the job. For some, it’s a sense of duty. For others, it was a way out. For everyone, it’s their reality.
He can’t legally buy a Miller Lite. He can’t legally buy a pack of smokes. But we can drop him into a quagmire in Iran, and if he doesn’t come back, we’ll fold a flag and hand it to his mother and call it an honor. No one in Washington sending Rooster to die in battle has a kid named “Rooster.” They have a Daniel.Contact us at news@cartercountytimes.com
