Well, in Iraq, the insurgents' bombs were hidden in the trash. To this day, I can't walk past garbage without reflexively thinking it's going to explode.
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"Oh, he's got the robot out again. Must be trash day."
So, yes, after a tour or two or 12, you eventually leave the military and return to the nice relaxing world where no one is trying to kill you, but your brain isn't about to take your word for it. It would be one thing if we were just talking about instinctively ducking whenever you hear a car backfire, but after you've been nearly blown up by a roadside bomb disguised as trash? From that point forward, any sight of garbage will rile you up more than a Native American in a public service announcement.
So, you wind up crossing the road to avoid it, sometimes more than once in a day, because holy balls, we have some filthy-ass cities in this country. Sure, you know that there's absolutely no way you're some kind of secret target, but avoiding it is often preferable to clenching your ass cheeks together while you walk briskly by. And that's just garbage bags. Insurgents can hide bombs in any-damn-thing. We even saw a donkey with a couple of explosive rounds strapped to it. So for once the animals at the petting zoo may make you feel as uncomfortable as you make them feel.
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"Except after this you guys get to go home, right? Like, to a place where people aren't molesting you all the time?"