I have, uh, a couple of people who never returned from Vietnam in their heads.

They're crazy.

They can't be around other people.

You see him drop down into a crouch and fire an imaginary machine gun.

People that I spent a lot of time with when I was a teenager, they didn't deserve that kind of stuff.

I don't know.

I just think that, uh, those people that I lost, they're lost and they're okay.

But I feel really badly for the ones who are still here and just can't cope with the world around them.

It's It's a crying shame.

It's worse of a lost in life.

Send my 18 year old friend war.

He's in a group home.

He's 40 years old now.

I maintain a relationship with a family.

I think of the dad is is my substitute dad.

I'm sure I fill a role for him as a son, but it's a shame.

I know a lot of people, and I know a lot of people who have friends in that situation.

The pain of death goes away or it becomes tolerable.

But the pain that goes along with somebody who's mentally or physically lost never goes away.

The reminder is always in front of you.

It's home.

My father's generation Hey was a chaplain in the Air Force during World War Two and afterwards for a while, and they they had a sense of completion about their war.

They did the right thing, they knew the right thing.

And But I believe they did the right thing.

We don't we still think we made a terrible mistake, the war itself, the way we don't want war.

Um, there's still, I think, a sense of futility, and you and me about what we can or what we did do about that war.