" Who here thinks,' I asked the small group of Marines who'd gathered for Sunday Mass, 'that when you get back to the States no civilians will be able to understand what you've gone through?'
A few hands went up.
'I had a parishioner whose six-month-old son developed a brain tumor. He watched his child go through intense suffering, chemotherapy, and finally a brutal, ungraceful death. Who would rather go through that than be in Ramadi?'

...'Now, I wouldn't be surprised if this man supported the insurgency...But clearly this man has suffered. And if this man, this father, does support the insurgency, it's because he thinks his suffering justifies making you suffer. If his story about his beating is true, it means the Marines who beat him think their suffering justifies making him suffer...All of us suffer. We can either feel isolated, and alone, and lash out at others, or we can realize we're part of a community. A church. That father in my parish felt as if no one could understand him and it wasn't worth the effort to make them try. Maybe you don't think it's worth trying to understand the suffering of that Iraqi father.'

...'We are part of a long tradition of suffering. We can let it isolate us if we want, but we must realize that isolation is a lie. Consider Owen. Consider that Iraqi father and that American father. Consider their children. Do not suffer alone. "

― Phil Klay , Redeployment