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The Love that Led Us to the Privilegeof Shedding Our Blood for Country and Comrade
Since my semi-successful Southeast Asian adventure four decades ago, I've read millions of words in hundreds of books and articles and poems and philippics in a vain attempt to understand war. Actually, what I was really searching for was a way to understand myself. I went off to war as a person I thought I knew and knew well. But I returned a stranger - both to myself and to many of those around me. I sought and still seek to know what happened to me in that evolution but I realize I might never know.
I used the word "vain" to describe those attempts and vain they were and shall forever be. It is foolish to read the sterile, bloodless narratives of wars that cost us our blood and that of our enemies. For it is blood that triggers our memories, scarred our bodies, mark the boundaries of our personal histories, and haunt our dreams.