There was a shot of Nanda Devi’s gun truck exploding, me running out to the helicopter, and the final shot of me standing on one leg with my pistol,...bleeding like crazy. Most of it was in black and white, and I didn’t know if anybody would understand any of it.Stephanopoulos: “Sergeant Reaper, welcome to Good Morning America. Thank you for coming.”Me: “Thank you, Mister Stephanopoulos.”Stephanopoulos: “Sergeant, can you describe what happened that evening for us?”Some of the questions we had. Sometimes, I felt as if he were reading my thoughts, he would watch as I gazed out the tower windows, knowing I missed the life I left behind. Memory has a way of exemplifying the good times and dimming the bad. All I could think about was the sweetness I had missed, my heart cried to be free. My sensibility warned me to stay safely in the tower, but my heart won out. Trembling and taking a deep breath I crossed the threshold, intoxicated by the summers gentle caresses. With open arms and. More

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