Unfortunately, few remember that the attack on the Kurds was backed and supplied with materials from the United States. At the time, Iraq was our friend and we were concerned with Iran -- the country whose name ended with "n".

I just came across a series of photographs by Ernst Haas. He made many photographs of returning German soldiers. No "shocking" gore, just everyday images of a soldier in uniform, semi-silhoetted from the rear - on crutches with only one leg; a short, dumpy woman, holding a photograph of a soldier, and pleading with her expression for some information; a man in a military overcoat, walking with his arm around a woman; an older woman praying....

Nothing explosively emotional, but, taken together they speak of the loss of hope, the anxiety of "not knowing" ... the bleakness and horrible, penetrating boredom, and waiting.

"My" war was Korea. I spent most of my time in the Combat Engineers, training others to blow things up. Back then, I learned a song from a 33 year veteran.
It came from the first World War, and probably describes combat more eloquently than my photography ever could:

"Where the whiz-bangs are flyin'
And comforts are few
There brave man are a-dyin'
For bastards like you."

This applies to those getting shot at - on either both side.