Too close to home

A coworker's brother was shot halfway to hell in Fallujah today. (Yesterday? I don't know the time difference.)

His squad was marching down the street when a car bomb was detonated next to them. The guy behind him died, but in doing so, sprayed my coworker's brother with bullets. He (the brother) also has some nasty shrapnel wounds.

Thanks be to the Army medics who got there first. They're still working on him in a field hospital in Iraq, trying to find the internal bleeding that's keeping him in critical condition. After they do, he'll be airlifted to Europe for further surgery.

When the Red Cross called her as she was on her way to work, all the person could tell her was that her brother'd been shot. They had no details. Wouldn't you hate to have that job?

Any prayers on her behalf, on behalf of her brother, and on behalf of her two siblings--also in the Army, also near or in Fallujah--would be gratefully accepted.

Any political emails will be tossed back to the senders so hard that the electrons bounce. I'm too upset by her upset-ness to be rational.