There is more to life – and Government – than just Europe

There was a commotion by the back gate. I grabbed my rifle and headed over. The week beforehand I was shooting in through the hinges at insurgents trying to over-run the base that was now my home for another hot summer in the Afghan desert. The gate was covered by a sentry. I shouted up to him. He told me there was a man at the back gate seeking medical help for something in his arms. 

I opened the gate cautiously. The young Afghan man started shouting at me in Pashtun. I caught the odd word, but was comforted by the presence of my translator who had appeared behind me, having been summoned by the sentry. 

The man dumped the bloody rags in his hands into my arms. I peeled them back to find a dead baby girl in my arms, her face almost entirely removed. I checked for vital signs, but she was clearly dead; a bloody mess.