Five years, I served. Canadian Armed Forces. Generic, not important: Enlisted. I fought in Afghanistan, in the sand and the dirt and the hate. I saw what man can do, what it can do wrong. My superiors did not. I was ordered to do things I would never have imagined I could; I did them. Most of them. I'm not proud of it, of course-- But with what's become of the world, I guess that there are gonna be a few more awful things before the world kicks it.
I was dishonourably discharged at the end of my service: Refused to obey a direct order. Struck my superior officer, too; Though he'll always say he didn't fall to the ground and grovel. I was homeless for a while after that. Got a job in construction, wanted to see the world; The infection hit a while after that. I got out while I could; Took a plane to Europe. Figured I'd see if there was a place I could fit in the broken world that was beginning to form. Found my way here, eventually. I wonder what I'll find.
Guess I dont know, yet.