It was the summer of 1983 and eight-year-old Danny Brown was having a terrible time. A shy and serious only child, he had recently been forced to move with his parents and, as far as he was concerned ... [+]
He would have to settle for an unmarked grave, if you could call it that, and his bleached white bones, stripped clean by wild dogs in a dry riverbed on the outskirts of Kabul, not unlike the one he was sitting in with Gonzo, would serve as a reminder to the other interpreters. A promise from the U.S. federal government is like wet tissue paper blowing around in a house made of scissors. He would not get the new beginning he had been promised. Despite years of service and the gratitude of countless soldiers. Rohim had traveled far from his home, Mazari Sharif in Northern Afghanistan, to be a